Winning Brynn (Seattle Strikers)

64. Chapter Thirty-three

Chapter Thirty-three

Leo

Practice sucked sweaty balls today. My head wasn’t in it, which Coach Carter reamed my ass for, and the boys wouldn’t stop looking at me with pitiful expressions. After my eighth sympathetic clap on the shoulder, I was ready to throw in the towel and resign from the team.

I didn’t do it, but the urge was there.

So, it’s a relief of epic proportions to breathe in the warm air of home when I finally make it through the door at long past seven p.m. Practice had run late today, which wouldn’t have been so bad, but I had to see our team physician who really loves to chat. And boy, did he have a lot he wanted to chat to me about today.

Salem sees me first, her mouth curving into an enormous smile as she flaps her hands and calls my name. “Dada!”

“Hey, baby girl, still awake?”

Beyond the windows, the sky has darkened to inky black, brightened only by a small dusting of stars and technicolor city lights. It isn't much brighter inside the apartment, with only the warm, gentle glow of lamplight.

Salem yawns, as if in response to my question, triggering one from me.

Brynn turns her head away from the window she’d been staring out to look at me. “I waited to put her down so you could see her.”

I drop down beside her on the rug and lean back against the couch. Hooking my arm around her shoulders, I pull her into my side and press a kiss to her mouth. “Thank you.”

She attempts a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Her gaze dips, first to her lap, then to my daughter, who’s currently heaving herself into my lap. She’s hiding something. How she’s feeling, probably, but the way she’s gnawing at her bottom lip makes me wonder if there’s something else going on.

With Alex and me out of the apartment complex today, there was nothing stopping Isabella from showing up here and demanding to see Salem again. It was a realization that had anxiety churning within me all day. I saw glimpses of empathy on Brynn’s face last night and her sadness for her friend. She would have opened the door at the first sight of fresh tears.

She has a soft heart, and she cares about people. She’s a protector down to her soul, and while I love that about her, it also leaves her open to be taken advantage of.

But she knows how I feel about Isabella and the depth of my disdain. She would never let that woman around my child without my knowledge, I’m sure of it.

“How was practice?” she asks, resting her head on my arm.

“Fine.”

She grimaces. “That bad, huh?”

“Your brother took it upon himself to alert everyone and their dogs to our situation.”

“He’s good like that.”

“Tell me about it.”

Stretching her legs over mine, Salem falls back on my abdomen and blinks up at me with wide, sleepy eyes. “Dada! Sweep.”

“You wanna go to sleep?”

She nods, closing her eyes and pretending to snore. I do the same, leading her to erupt in a symphony of giggles that has me smiling for the first time today. Lifting her under the arms, I set her on her feet. She wraps her hands around my fingers for balance until she feels steady on her own.

We’re still no closer to seeing her first steps, but I’m confident they’ll come soon.

“Should I get her into bed?” Brynn sits up, pulling the material of her t-shirt over her knees. She’s in the same one she wore to bed last night—the one that belongs to me. I like the sight of her in my clothes.

“No. I’ve missed her today, so I’d like to do it.”

“Okay.” She smiles, and there’s a little more truth to it this time. Reaching over, she scoops Salem off her feet and pulls her into her arms. Peppering kisses all over her chubby cheeks, she rests their foreheads together and sighs through her nose. “Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

I take a little extra time putting my daughter to bed. Knowing Isabella is in the same building, only two floors down from where we are, makes me want to cling to Salem and never let go. So, I read her one story, then start another, even though she’s struggling to keep her eyes open.

I just need to hold her and know that she’s safe. Remind myself that so long as only my name is on the paperwork, she can’t be taken away from me. Not legally, anyway. And there won’t ever come a day in Hell when Isabella has an opportunity to take her in any other way.

She needs to go back to Bali, and maybe then, I’ll be able to breathe again.

“Did she go down okay?” Brynn asks as I stumble back down the hallway, my eyes squinting from the transition from dark to light.

“She was asleep before I even got her in the crib.”

“Are you hungry?”

I nod, moving toward the kitchen to fix us something.

“I already ordered pizza.”

My chest sags in relief. I really couldn’t be bothered to cook, being as physically and mentally exhausted as I am. “Have I told you lately that you’re amazing?” I say, flopping down onto the couch beside her and pulling her legs into my lap.

“Some would say I’m the best.”

“Would they? That's interesting.”

She throws a cushion at my head with a light laugh. It’s refreshing. I haven’t heard it in over twenty-four hours, and my heart was starting to feel the effects.

The pizza arrives—mine with meat, hers with extra pineapple because she’s a psychopath—and we eat in silence on the living room rug. It isn’t an uncomfortable silence, per se, but I once had a more relaxing colonoscopy. She’s fidgety, and it’s putting me on edge.

I toss a crust into the box between us and pin her with an expectant stare.

She wipes a smudge of pizza sauce from the corner of her mouth, eyebrows tipped as she waits. “Can I help you?”

“You gonna tell me what you're thinking about? Or are we going to keep pretending you're not thinking yourself into a panic attack?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"The only other reason you could be fidgeting so much is if you have a yeast infection." I pause, cocking an eyebrow. "Do I need to get you some anti-fungal medication?" I pretend to get up. "Would you prefer an oral or vaginal suppository?"

"Sit down."

My lips twitch as I plop myself back down on the rug. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Brynn. And it was bound to happen, really, given all the friction from the sex we've been having."

She covers her eyes with a groan. "Please stop."

"I'm serious. Yeast infections are common, but they're uncomfortable, so we should get it sorted as soon as possible.."

"I don't have a fucking yeast infection!" she fumes, her cheeks a bright shade of scarlet. "And why the hell do you know so much about them?"

"Saw a commercial once about an egg thing that you put up there." I nod my head toward the space between her legs. "I first thought it was a sex toy, so I was intrigued and did some research. Wasn't as fun as I first thought, but I guess it wasn't wasted time after all."

"I don't even know what to say."

"Well, if a yeast infection isn't the problem, you could tell me what is."

She blows out a long sigh then stands and takes the empty pizza box to the kitchen. She takes her sweet time collapsing it into a small enough size that it will fit inside the recycling box, facing away from me so I can't see her expression. Wiping her hand over her forehead, she finally turns back to face me.

"This wasn't how I was planning to start the conversation." She rubs the material of her shirt between her fingers, her voice soft.

It isn't lost on me that she's using the island between us as a barrier, so I heave myself off the rug and take a seat across from her instead. Reaching my hand across the marble countertop, I weave my fingers through hers.

"What's wrong?"

Her face twists, her eyes dipping with something like regret. "Issy was here today."

The words jolt through me like lightning. "What?"

"Salem was asleep," she says quickly. "Napping in her bedroom. I wouldn't have let Issy in if she was awake, you know that, right?"

I nod but say nothing. My heart is racing, my palms sweating so profusely I'm sure I'm drenching Brynn's hand, but she doesn't pull away. I'm grateful for it, but at the same time, I almost wish she would.

She swallows, and I can feel her working herself up to say something. "I think you need to talk to her."

"No."

"Leo..." she pleads, her tone sad and beseeching.

"No, Brynn. I have nothing to say to her, and I don't want to hear anything that she wants to say to me."

"But—"

"She didn't tell me she was pregnant. She fucking abandoned Salem! And she couldn't even be bothered to do it herself."

I'm so sick of saying the same thing over and over again. Of having to explain why what Issy did hurt me so badly, why it scarred me so deeply that I'll never be able to forgive her. I thought Brynn understood.

I thought she was on my side.

"I know she's your friend, but I really need you to look out for me with this."

Her eyes soften. Gently, she releases my hand and walks around the island to stand in front of me. Taking my face in her hands, she soothes her thumbs back and forth across my cheeks. "I am looking out for you."

Unintentionally, I feel myself leaning into her touch. "Then why?"

"Because there's more to the story than you know. And I think, if you heard her out, you might change your mind about her. You might...you might consider letting her back into Salem's life."

I rear back, my chest heaving in disbelief. Her hands drop from my face, hanging between us with a weight equal to the one in my stomach. “Whatever she said to you was bullshit. Surely, you can see that. She’s just saying what she thinks you want to hear so she can get what she wants.”

“No.” Her voice is so small, full of conflict and guilt. “I understand why you think that. But her explanations made sense, and she took accountability for the hurt she’s caused everyone, and I believe her. I know that’s hard to hear, and I fucking hate that I’m hurting you with this conversation, but I do, Leo. I believe her."

"I can't believe you're asking this of me."

Her eyes tear, and fuck, it kills me when she cries. But I'm too wound up, too angry, to do anything about it right now. "I wouldn't be if I didn't truly think it was the right thing."

"I don't understand how you possibly think this is the right thing."

"Because she's Salem's mom. "

"Salem already has a mom!" I roar.

Maybe it's too soon to make such a statement and to believe it so wholeheartedly. But it's true. And it has nothing to do with my feelings toward Brynn.

The relationship between them runs so much deeper than Brynn simply being her nanny. It's woven into every one of their interactions, in the looks between them, in the way Salem finds instant comfort in Brynn's arms, and how Brynn is always so in tune with what Salem needs and when.

It was there the moment they first met, even if I didn't recognize it at the time. They were like kindred souls finding each other for the first time.

Brynn staggers backward, her tears finally spilling from her eyes to run heartbreaking tracks down her cheeks. "Leo..."

The room around us appears to dim, though whether it's from diminishing light or the thickness of the air, I don't know. My hands slam down on the island, my head hanging limply between them.

Her hand whispers across the planes of my back, her touch tentative, before it gains confidence and strokes up and down my spine.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I shouldn't have yelled. But in my eyes, Salem already has a mom, and it sure as shit isn't the woman who gave birth to her."

I hear her whimper, but I can't see her face from my position.

"I told you I need a new nanny, because I didn't want that to be the reason you're here with us. I wanted..." My voice trails off, my throat blocked by a lump that won't shift. "I wanted you to be here because you want to be here, not because you have to. I wanted Salem to have a real family."

Her fingers wrap around my biceps, tugging until I'm facing her again. But still, I can't look at her. I'm sad, and scared, and pissed off, and I know one look at her beautiful face will wreck me.

"Leo, please look at me."

My jaw trembles as I shake my head. "I can't do this."

"I'm not going to make you do anything you're not comfortable with, okay? Salem is your daughter. You make the decisions. I just... I just think that, one day, she's gonna ask where her mom is, and you'll have to tell her the truth. That she wanted a relationship with her, but you didn't allow it."

"But she'll have you."

My eyes finally lift to hers, and the heartbreak I see inside them fucking destroys me.

She nods resolutely, sniffing as more tears fall. "That's true. No matter what happens between us, I will always be here for Salem. I love her like she's my own daughter, and god, how I wish she really was. But she isn't."

I shake my head, my mouth opening to reply, but she doesn't let me.

"She isn't, Leo. She isn't my daughter, and I'm not her mom." She sucks in a shuddering breath, her eyes scrunching shut. "But Issy is."

Unable to hold back any longer, I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my chest. Her entire body sags in relief as she cries into my shirt.

"I don't know what to do."

"Talk to her." She looks up at me, resting her chin on my chest. "And once you've heard her out, if you still feel the same way, then that's okay. Nothing has to change. The ball is in your court, Leo, and no one can make you do anything you don’t want to do."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

With a sniff, I kiss her on the head. "I'll think about it."

"That’s all I can ask."

“I’m not doing it for Isabella, though. You know that, right?”

She nods. “Good.”

And though she already knows, I say it out loud anyway. “I’m doing it for Salem.”