Chapter 9
SLANT ROUTE: RECEIVER RUNS A DIAGONAL ROUTE ACROSS THE FIELD.
“As excited as I was to explore the Piedmont region using Tenuta delle Ombre as my home base, I won’t be able to stay here with Bryce hovering between us like a ghost.” I state firmly. “I can’t look at you and not think of him. You’re his friend.”
Troy’s fingers clench around the stem of the glass he’d just picked up so tightly, I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter in his fingers. I suppose he is too because he places it back down on the table and pushes it just out of reach before replying, “That’s the very last thing I want.”
“What?”
“For you to look at me and think of him. He’s a piece of trash, Maya.”
Shock renders me momentarily speechless. Then I stutter, “But…but you were friends! Teammates! He always said there was nothing above the bro code!”
His head shakes back and forth. “That’s what Bryce liked to tell himself. I was his mentor when he first joined the Lightning.”
My blood freezes at his words. “You mean you’re the one who showed him how—”
Troy cuts me off. “I taught him nothing.” His dark eyes bore into mine. “I’m not saying the guys were saints, but…Jesus, Maya. When I was on the team, personal business was just that. Personal. How and who a player was having sex with sure as hell wasn’t discussed by the side of a fire pit.”
I whisper, “Then what happened?”
He shoves his fingers through his dark hair. “Two things.”
“Which were?”
“Most of the older Lightning team was either replaced or traded—including myself.”
I wince in recollection of the career-ending injury Troy sustained the second year Bryce played for the Lightning. “Right.”
He sits back down on the stool before admitting, “But it was the second that changed the dynamic of the team to what it is today.”
“And that was?”
“Bryce.” Troy says nothing else. Instead, he just holds my gaze, waiting for me to bring the picture into focus.
I do so fairly quickly. “He assumed a bigger role as a mentor when he became starting quarterback.”
“Exactly. All these kids straight out of college eagerly looking to one of the best players in the league who was teaching them not the best way to manage their money, nor social responsibility. Instead, they were learning how to manipulate the people closest to them.” Troy shakes his head in disappointment.
“Then why did you stay friends with him?” I challenge.
“I didn’t. Not really,” he hedges.
“Yet, you were going to stand up for him at our wedding.”
“I was because I assumed you were happy.” His eyes hold mine when he asks, “Have you watched any of the videos making their way around the internet?”
“Living through it the first time was enough. Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Understandable. If you had, you would have seen me call Bryce out for being such a complete asshole.”
“Excuse me?” I’m flabbergasted.
“What was the last thing you remember from that night?”
It’s like a punch to the stomach when the memory hits me. “You.”
“What about me?”
“You're saying you never cheated on anyone because you never…overlapped…women,” I paraphrase.
Troy pulls out his phone and scrolls his finger from left to right before handing it to me. “Press play.”
Nausea churns in my gut as I recognize the setting. It’s Bryce’s backyard the night of the engagement party. I try to shove his phone back at him. “I don’t want to watch this.”
“You need to,” he insists.
“No, I don’t.”
“You do, because I need you to know I’m not an asshole.” The words lay between us, casting one of the many shadows the castle boasts as part of its brand.
I look down at the screen for a long minute before pressing play. That’s when Troy’s voice comes through the speaker, loud and clear as if the past him were sitting in front of me instead of trapped in the permanent legacy of the internet.
“I refuse.”
“What?” Bryce squawks. “What do you mean you won’t stand up for me? You’re supposed to be my friend.”
“Because you’re a piece of shit, Parry.”
“What? Why?”
“Maya deserves someone better than you.”
Bryce scoffs. “Maya knew who she was marrying.”
“Did she? Does she know about all your other women?”
“She’s smart.”
“That’s right. And one, five, ten years from now—hell, five minutes—I want her to know I didn’t stand by and sanction you knowingly ruining her life.”
“Fuck you, Walsh!”
“No, go fuck yourself. It might be a novel experience if you use your hand instead of filling some random hole.”
Bryce’s face is puce; he’s so livid. “If you think I’m not going to marry her, you’re crazy. She loves me. She always will.”
“Keep deluding yourself,” Troy taunts.
I shudder as Bryce swings at Troy blindly in his inebriated state. Troy deftly avoids the punch before delivering a quick one-two directly to Bryce’s stomach.
Bryce vomits all over the patio. I hit pause before murmuring, “Considering how much I threw up listening to that conversation, I can’t say I’m sorry to see that.”
Troy’s eyes bore into mine. “Do you now question whether I supported any of the bullshit Bryce spewed that night?”
I study the intensity of his face before answering, “No, I don’t.” How could I when I’m looking at the live footage of his defense of me?
“Are you going to stay at Tenuta delle Ombre?” he pushes.
I hesitate on that question because seeing Troy, even knowing he stood up for me, is bringing up things I’m trying to shove into my past. “Let me sleep on it.”
He nods, his eyes not once leaving mine. “Then maybe it’s time for you to find your bed.”
Something flickers in the depths of his eyes.
Something I can’t name. Handing him his phone back, I make my way to the door of the kitchen before turning around.
He’s leaning against the counter, ankles crossed.
His handsome face, my photographer’s eye now easily discerns his thicker brows and more pronounced chin denouncing his Italian heritage, is staring at me intensely.
I feel my cheeks flush but attribute it to the warm sweater I’m wearing plus the wine I had with dinner. “Good night, Troy. Sleep well.”
“Buonanotte, Maya. You as well.”
Making my way through the villa, I head straight up to my room. Once I close the door, I lean against it with my forehead touching the smooth wood, my palm clasping the lock as if it can hold more than just my privacy but maybe it can keep me from reeling over what I learned tonight.
Troy said my ex was wrong. No, he did more than that. He defended me. Said I didn’t deserve what was happening. He cared about what I thought about him.
Then there is the way his low voice said “buonanotte,” that sounded like smoky whisky.
I shake my head back and forth. No, while I might be open to eventually exploring something new now that my relationship with Bryce is dead and buried, this is Troy.
He’s not just some random man I happened to meet.
He was once a legendary football player in his own right who still maintains many ties to the same world Bryce tried to break me with.
No, he didn’t succeed, but I learned my lesson. Shaking my head, I shove thoughts of Troy to the side and cross the room to the window. Outside, the hills of the Tenuta delle Ombre vineyard lay shrouded in darkness. The castle ruins are barely visible against the inky night sky.
Drawing the curtains shut, I murmur, “Tomorrow will come soon enough. There’s enough time to decide whether to stay or go.”
But after I complete my nighttime routine and slip beneath the covers, I can’t stop hearing Troy’s “Buonanotte, Maya,” over and over like a blessing.
And for reasons I don’t comprehend, that helps me slip easier into sleep than I have in months.