Chapter Sixteen Carter
Chapter Sixteen
Carter
Olivia curls up on her couch, knees pulled to her chest, staring at nothing. She hasn’t spoken since we got to her apartment twenty minutes ago. She sat down and retreated into herself.
It’s killing me.
“Do you want coffee?” I ask, moving toward her kitchen.
“No.”
“Food?”
“Not hungry.”
I sit on the coffee table in front of her, close enough that our knees touch. “Talk to me.”
“What’s there to say?” Her voice is hollow. “My career is over. My reputation is destroyed. And it’s all because I fell in love with you.”
The words slice through me. “Olivia—”
“I’m not blaming you.” She finally looks at me, and the emptiness in her eyes guts me. “I made the choice. I knew the risks. But that doesn’t make this hurt any less.”
“We’re going to fix it.”
“How?” She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “The internet has already decided I’m a gold-digging manipulator. Mark’s put me on leave. And even if we prove I didn’t leak anything, people will always wonder. They’ll always question whether I slept my way into that job.”
“Then fuck what people think.”
“Easy for you to say.” Her voice hardens. “You’re Carter Storm. You’ll always have your career, your reputation, your legacy. But me? I’m replaceable. And now I’m also toxic.”
I reach for her hand, but she pulls away. The rejection stings more than I want to admit.
“You’re not replaceable,” I say firmly. “And you’re sure as hell not toxic.”
“Tell that to the team.” She stands, wrapping her arms around herself. “Tell that to Mark, who couldn’t wait to get me out of that office. Tell it to every person who’s tweeted about what a terrible person I am.”
“Those people don’t know you.”
“But they think they do. And in this industry, perception is everything.” She stands and moves to the window, staring out at the city. “You were right to worry about what comes after football, Carter. Because once your reputation is gone, you have nothing left.”
The defeat in her voice breaks something in me. I cross to her, standing close enough to feel her warmth but not touching. Not when she’s made it clear she doesn’t want that right now.
“I’m going to fix this,” I say quietly.
“You can’t.”
“Watch me.” I wait until she turns to face me. “Tomorrow morning, I’m calling a press conference. I’m going to tell them the truth, that we’re together, that you did nothing wrong, and anyone who has a problem with it can deal with me.”
“Carter, no—”
“Yes.” My voice is firm. “I let you walk into that office. I let Mark put you on leave without fighting back. But I’m not letting you take the fall for this by yourself.”
“If you do that, you’ll make it worse.” She shakes her head. “They’ll say you’re being manipulated. That I have you wrapped around my finger. It’ll just fuel the narrative.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, I do!” Her voice rises, frustration bleeding through. “I care about your career, your legacy, everything you’ve worked for. And I won’t let you destroy it for me.”
“You’re not destroying anything—”
“Yes, I am!” Tears stream down her face now. “Don’t you see? Everything they’re saying, I’m a distraction, I’m bad for you, I’m ruining your focus, maybe they’re right.”
The words hang between us like a death sentence.
“You don’t mean that,” I say slowly.
“Don’t I?” She wraps her arms tighter around herself. “You got benched today, Carter. Because of me. Because Mark thinks I’m a liability. And maybe he’s right.”
“He’s not—”
“When’s the last time you had a good practice?” she interrupts. “When’s the last time you weren’t distracted by this, by us? When’s the last time football was your only focus?”
I open my mouth to argue, then close it. Because she’s not wrong. The last few weeks have been chaos. My head hasn’t been in the game the way it should be.
But that’s not her fault.
“Football isn’t my only priority anymore,” I say carefully. “You are.”
“That’s the problem.” Her voice breaks. “I can’t be your priority, Carter. Not when it costs you everything.”
My chest tightens. “What are you saying?”
She’s quiet for a long moment, tears sliding down her cheeks. When she finally speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper.
“I think we need to take a break.”
The words hit like a blindside tackle. “No.”
“Carter—”
“No.” I step closer, desperation clawing at my throat. “We’re not doing this again. We’re not running just because things got hard.”
“This isn’t running. It’s being smart.” She wipes her eyes roughly. “You need to focus on football. On finishing your season strong. And I need to figure out how to salvage my career. We can’t do that if we’re together.”
“Yes, we can—”
“How?” She looks at me, and I see the exhaustion in every line of her face. “How do we make this work when being together is what caused all of this?”
“We fight for it. That’s how.”
“I’m tired of fighting, Carter.” Her voice cracks. “I’m tired of feeling like I’m drowning. Like every choice I make is wrong. Like—” She stops, shaking her head. “I just need space. To think. To breathe.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
The uncertainty in her voice terrifies me more than anything else. Because I hear what she’s not saying, this might not be a break. That this might be goodbye.
“Please don’t do this,” I say quietly. “Please don’t push me away again.”
“I’m not pushing you away. I’m trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need protection. I need you.”
She closes her eyes, fresh tears spilling over. “I can’t be what you need right now. Not when I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
The admission guts me. I want to argue, to fight, to make her see we’re stronger together. But looking at her now, at how broken, exhausted and barely holding herself together she is, I realize that pushing will only make things worse.
So, I do the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I step back.
“Okay,” I say, even though the word feels like swallowing glass. “If you need space, I’ll give you space.”
Hope flickers in her eyes. “You will?”
“But I’m not giving up on us, Olivia.” I hold her gaze. “Take your time. Figure out what you need. But know that I’ll be here when you’re ready. Because I love you. And that’s not going to change.”
She sobs, covering her face with her hands. I want to pull her into my arms, to comfort her, but I know it’s not what she needs right now.
So, I do the only thing I can.
I walk to her door and open it.
“I’m here,” I say one more time. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Then I leave, closing the door softly behind me.
And as I walk down the pathway, my chest feels like it’s caving in. Because I just lost the woman I love for the second time.
And this time, I don’t know if I’m going to get her back.
My phone buzzes as I reach my truck. Derek.
Saw the news. You okay?
I stare at the message for a long moment before typing back.
No.
Three dots appear immediately.
Need company?
Need a drink.
On my way to your place. I’ll bring the good stuff.
I climb into my truck and sit there for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel, trying to process everything that just happened.
This morning, I woke up with Olivia in my arms, thinking we could face anything together.
Now, I’m alone, and she’s asking for space.
And I have no idea how to fix any of it.
My phone buzzes again. This time it’s an email from Mark.
Meeting tomorrow. 9 AM. We need to discuss your statement to the press.
I delete it without responding.
Because right now, I don’t give a damn about press statements or damage control or any of it.
All I care about is the woman I just walked away from.
And figuring out how to prove to her we’re worth fighting for.
Even if she doesn’t believe it yet.