Page 114 of Scoring Eden

I just love you.

But now isn’t the time to tell her that, not when she’s coming down from a panic attack. Not when her greatest fear in the world has just been realized. I’ve already waited too long to tell her how I feel. Waiting a few more days until this shitshow has been sorted out isn’t going to hurt.

“I know I can.”

She doesn’t argue, but I know she doesn’t believe me. That’s okay. She doesn’t have to. But I won’t rest until that man feels every ounce of the pain he’s put Eden through, one thousand times over and then some.

Plotting his downfall is all I can do to keep myself sane as I lie with Eden shaking in my arms until, gradually, her breathing begins to settle. Once I’m confident she’s deep enough asleep not to notice, I extricate myself from her death grip.

I have a lawyer to call.

And another to destroy.

I have dinner cooking on the stove when the phone rings. The sound jolts me out of staring into space, where I’m stirring pasta sauce at the island as it bubbles from the too-high heat.

“Coach Carter?”

“Wolfe.” I know from the biting growl of that word alone how this conversation is going to go. “Before I start, is there anything you need to tell me?”

He knows.

“I’m not sure, sir.” I fight to keep my voice steady, but it trembles at the end. And Coach knows me well enough to read into it.

“You lied to me.”

A rock sinks from my throat into my gut.

“You looked me in the eye, and you lied.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuccckkk.

I can’t cope with this. There’s only so much a dude can take, and I think I’ve hit my limit.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can think of to say, but then, like a dam splitting, the truth comes gushing out. “It started because I was desperate. Soccer has been my anchor for twenty years. It’s what I leaned on when my parents died. It was my escape from the grief and responsibility I took on when they passed. And this team…the Strikers…fuck. If I couldn’t play for them, then I didn’t want to play for anyone, because you guys have been like my replacement family. And with Brynn marrying Leo, she didn’t need me anymore, sir. She doesn’t need me anymore. So, without the team, what did I have left?”

“Wait, Alex, what?”

“So, I asked Eden to be my fake girlfriend. I knew it would help me turn my media image around and maybe help me win the favor of the investors, but it turned out that she needed me even more than I needed her. Her ex-husband is an asshole. No, he’s worse than that. Forgive me for saying this, Coach, but her ex is a cunt. And now, he’s got her little boy, and I don’t know if we’ll be able to get him back.”

“He’s got the kid?”

“Yeah.” I sniff. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. “He’s got Macon. And Macon’s the coolest little dude in the whole world, and he calls me Uncle Alex, and he sleeps with this little hippo called Mr. Snuggles, but his dad makes him feel shitty about it. And that cunt, Sebastian, is gonna keep making him feel shitty about it if he gets his way, because he’s somehow convinced a judge to remove Macon from Eden’s care. I mean, it’s only until the official custody hearing, but if he’s managed that, then the court case isn’t looking good for us. So, yes, Coach, I’m sorry I lied. I’m really fucking sorry. And if I’ve lost my place on the team because of it, then so be it. But I have worse things to worry about right now. My girl is distraught, and her son is gone.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the phone. I only know Coach is still there because I can hear his deep sighs and the padding of his sneakers pacing on the linoleum floor of the training offices.

“There’s a lot to unpack there,” he says finally.

I huff a sad chuckle. “Yeah.”

“Your parents died?” His voice is hesitant and slow, like he’s speaking to a frightened child.

“Um, yeah.” I clear my throat. “When I was ten. Jack and Libby are my adoptive parents. I…er…never used to like talking about that part of my life, so I didn’t really tell anyone.”

“What’s changed?”

“Them.”

I guess he understands my meaning because he releases a low hum in response. “You could’ve told me, you know?”