Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Paige
The tunnel is cold. Not in temperature but in every other way possible.
It’s stale and echoing, the thick concrete pressing in from all sides as we wait near the back exit—the second spot we’ve migrated to after getting asked to “move along” by security trying to clear the foot traffic.
I’m pretty sure they only allowed us to stay this long because they recognize Noah.
We’ve been standing here too long already, not a single sign of what’s really happened other than the quick text from Chase that said, “I’m okay.”
My arms are crossed tight over my chest, but it’s not doing a dang thing to keep my nerves at bay, especially when every couple minutes, a new face emerges from the locker room, none of them the man I’m waiting for.
I keep glancing at the tunnel doors, willing Chase to walk through them. If I could just see his face…
I pace three steps one way. Three steps back.
He’s okay. Stressed, undoubtedly a little sad—my eyes snap toward Mr. Harper and a literal ache shoots through my chest.
A lot sad…for more reasons than one?
I spin.
Noah shifts where he stands with his hands resting on Ari’s stomach, his expression tight.
“You think he’s hurt?” I ask.
Noah glances my way, then at the tunnel, a long breath leaving him. “Physically? I don’t think so. But even if there isn’t an injury…he’s going to be disappointed.”
I wring my hands together. “But he played so well. Maybe the best I’ve seen him play.” I glance to his dad, waiting for him to agree, only to get a small, tight smile before he looks back at Noah.
“That’s true, Paige. He should be proud of what he did out there tonight.” Noah pauses.
“But?” I ask.
His features soften and he offers a sad tip of the lips. “But he won’t remember a single good play he made, at least not right now. The only thing he’ll be able to think about is what went wrong.”
My mouth clamps tight, and I close my eyes, my teeth clenching as I run my hands over my head, digging them into the length of my hair. “This game is everything to him.”
“Not everything.” Mr. Harper touches my arm and I nod, closing my eyes.
“Mommy, I want down,” baby Deaton whines, and my attention slides his way. He’s on his mom’s hip, pushing against her chest with one hand, rubbing his eyes with the other.
Payton meets my gaze as she pats his little butt. “I think I’ll take him to the parking lot, let him play in the back of Brady’s truck while we wait.”
Guilt falls on my shoulders. Of course, she’s been chasing him up and down the tunnels for nearly an hour now.
While a few others nod, no one moves, not until Mr. Harper lets his hands fall to his side and clears his throat, his eyes meeting mine. “Maybe some fresh air would be good? And there’s only one direction for him to go.”
He turns, nodding toward the exit, and one by one, we trail behind, Noah taking Deaton from Payton’s arms and whispering softly to the little boy.
Deaton hangs his head on Noah’s shoulder, reaching out to high-five Ari when she smiles up at him.
We step out onto the asphalt, the buzz of the crowd long gone, replaced with night air and the quiet tap of footsteps. Every few feet we go, I can’t help but look back at the doors.
Cameron walks up, wrapping her arm around me for a side hug, and my lips twitch a little.
Noah climbs into the bed of the truck with Deaton, and I try to focus on the two as they play little clapping, sing-along games, but I’m too anxious to keep my attention on any one place.
Finally, the creak of the heavy metal doors echoes in the night, and we all whip our heads toward the sound.
Mason is the first to step out, and I’m already dashing across the parking lot.
He looks down at me with a small smile, and then a frown pulls at his features as his eyes scan the space behind me, just as mine do behind him.
Brady is there, Fernando too, and I hold my breath in anticipation…but the door is closing behind them.
I spin, a scowl on my face. “Where is he?” I nearly demand.
Brady frowns, his eyes bouncing from me to the group, to the parking lot around us. “We got out as quick as we could, but—”
“Where is Chase?” I say a little louder, a little frantic.
“He was the first one out the door, snuck out before Coach could see him leave. He still had his pads on.” He looks to Mason and back. “We thought he was already out here with you guys or his dad or something.”
My heart lodges in my throat. “We thought he was with you this whole time. How…how did he get out before us? It only took us maybe five minutes to get to the tunnels.”
Mason’s mouth tips up to one side, but there’s nothing happy about it. “He ran in and ran out,” he says quietly.
The boys hesitantly move forward, heading toward where the others are piled around Payton and Brady’s vehicles—all three boys rode with Mase today, so Chase’s truck was never here.
“Brady, check his location,” Cam suggests.
I inhale deeply, swinging my eyes his way. Yes, perfect.
He waits until he gets to his truck and sets his bag down, digging his phone from the inside pocket. He scrolls a little, and then he sighs, looking up from where he’s crouched on his knees.
“Phone’s off.” He looks up at Mason.
Panic twists in my gut, and I press a hand to my stomach. “Should I…should I go look for him? What if—”
“Honey.” Mr. Harper cuts off my spiral, and when I look at him, I already know what he’s going to say, and my eyes start to sting.
“I’m sorry, but he doesn’t want to be found right now,” he says quietly.
His expression is worn but kind, as is his voice when he adds, “He’ll want to be alone for a little while, but only so no one tries to make him feel better before he’s ready. The moment he is, he will come to you.”
The tears come then, falling without permission, as I nod and press my fingers to my lips.
“He needs you, honey,” his dad says, stepping closer to me. “He just needs a little while to breathe alone first.”
I let out a quiet sob, and Cam wraps her arms around me, tugging me gently toward the truck. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s go back to our place. Noah can make us some snacks or something.”
I nod, unable to speak past the knot of worry lodged in my throat.
In all my panic about how the game ended and my need to see him, to hug him and make sure he wasn’t beating himself up too bad about it, I completely forgot to remember the other issue of the night—his mother showing up with another man.
God, the look in his dad’s eyes when he saw her caused a physical reaction inside me.
I slide in beside Cameron, and Mason closes the door behind me.
As we pull out of the parking lot, I press my forehead against the window, scanning the grounds as we roll past, hoping I might catch sight of him.
It only takes us five minutes to pull up in front of Ari and Cam’s dorm, since there was no traffic getting out of the stadium.
I drop onto the couch as she goes into the kitchen to get some drinks, and Brady disappears into the bathroom, the shower turning on a moment later.
It will take Ari and Noah at least another ten minutes to get here, having walked back, and I think Mason was dropping Chase’s dad off at his hotel before joining us.
Unable to help myself, I pull out my phone and send Chase a text. His phone might be off, but at least he’ll see it when he’s ready to turn it on.
Me: I’m so proud of you.
I stare at the screen long after it’s sent, but it never does show delivered.
Chase
A quiet shuffle of footsteps stops a few feet away, but I don’t look up from the spot I’ve taken up on the cold concrete floor.
But then familiar boots move into my peripheral, and he slides down beside me, resting his arms on his bent knees.
His head falls back to mimic mine, and I close my eyes tight.
My dad doesn’t say a word, just rests quietly at my side against his hotel room door.
We sit in silence for a long time, and I find a sense of gratitude rolling through me as the time ticks on. He’s always known what I needed, even when I didn’t. Even now.
It hits me suddenly how often he’s shown up just like this—quiet, steady, and always present. And how little I ever noticed the contrast until this very second. How loud the absence of it was in the woman who raised me.
The memories start to become clearer.
My ninth birthday, when she forgot the cake but blamed the bakery. The few practices she was supposed to pick me up after when my dad had to cover someone at work, only to forget until I called to see if she was on her way a half hour after everyone else was already gone.
The college fund she said was “locked up” until it wasn’t there at all.
“She’s always been a little unhappy, hasn’t she?” I murmur, breaking the silence for the first time.
My dad exhales slowly. “She was, is, a complicated woman. Maybe a little more than I realized back then,” he admits.
“There were times she was glowing, lighting up every room, projecting the kind of energy people gravitate toward.” He looks off at the dark parking lot.
“But light like that…it flickers sometimes, and when it does, it can leave shadows behind.”
I don’t say anything.
“She loves you, Chase.”
“No,” I say quietly, shaking my head. “Don’t do that. Don’t defend her.”
He glances at me, soft sadness in his smile. “That’s what you do when you love someone.”
My chest feels tight. “How can you still love her after all of this? After tonight, seeing her with—” I cut off, swallowing.
“How could I not?” His gaze drops, and when it rises, it’s filled with the wisdom that only a man who has lived a full life could carry. “Just because someone breaks your heart, Son, that doesn’t mean it’s not still theirs.”
I hold his eyes a moment before pressing the heels of my palms into my own. I hiss, yanking my hand back and looking down at my taped-up hand.