CHAPTER 55 Miller Banks
What if it Was
“What the fuck was that?” Tanner yells at me.
He doesn’t usually yell at me, but I dropped an easy handoff. Twice. I probably deserve to have him in my face.
It’s Friday morning. I tried calling her yesterday on her release day, and she never answered. Maybe she was busy. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to me.
I texted her instead. I wished her good luck on her release day. I texted her again later in the day to celebrate that her book hit the bestseller charts after I pulled it up to check it.
I told her I can’t wait to read it. I said I love her and miss her.
She didn’t reply.
I think she’s really angry with me, and I don’t know how to fucking fix it when she won’t pick up the goddamn phone and we’re forced to be apart.
I fucking hate this.
“Sorry,” I mutter .
When it happens a third time, he walks away and heads toward Coach. A minute later, he’s guiding me off the field and toward the locker room.
“What the fuck are you doing, bro?” he asks me.
It’s just the two of us in an empty locker room, and I sink down onto a bench.
“I’m distracted. I slept like shit the last couple nights, and shit’s hanging in the balance with Soph, who won’t talk to me, and it feels like my life is falling the fuck apart and there’s nothing I can do about it.” It feels like a weight off my shoulders to confess all that to my brother.
“Do I need to remind you what happened to me last season when I let a woman distract me?” he asks through a clenched jaw.
“No, I remember. You got a year off to fall in love.”
“Fuck off with that. You know that’s not what happened.” He sits beside me.
“Maybe not, but it was the result, wasn’t it?” I shoot back.
He sighs. “This isn’t about me. Don’t you see that you and Sophie belong together?”
“Then why aren’t we together?” I ask.
“Because you’re being a fucking idiot.”
“Thanks, man,” I say dryly.
“Go get her, Miller,” he says quietly. “Tell her how you feel before it’s too late.”
“I’m here another week,” I remind him. “I can’t just walk out.”
“Coach always says family comes first. You know that. You’re already a starter. He will understand. You know where you stand on this. You’re just too fucking stupid to see it for yourself, so I’m here to tell you. Go fucking get her.”
“She won’t talk to me, man. She doesn’t want to see me,” I protest. “I need to be here. ”
“You said she released a book yesterday, right?” he asks, and I nod.
“Then isn’t it plausible she was just busy yesterday?
Maybe she had an interview and couldn’t pick up.
Maybe she was on Instagram Live. Maybe there are a thousand reasons she didn’t answer that have nothing to do with you—the same way you not answering has nothing to do with her. ”
I know he’s right. But it’s easier to believe the negative. It’s also easier to live in the what-ifs than to be disappointed with the truth. There’s still a chance she’ll walk away from this. From us.
There’s always that chance.
But what if I’m letting her do that without fighting for her?
This is all I’ve ever wanted. She is all I ever wanted. And she’s right within my grasp. All I need to do is reach out and cling to her.
“Did you ever think that maybe she took that test?” he asks quietly. “Maybe she knows the answers you so desperately want to know, and she’s too scared to tell you that over the phone.”
The thought never occurred to me. I figured she’d wait and test when we were home together.
But maybe not.
Maybe she took it. Maybe it was negative.
But maybe it wasn’t.
What if it wasn’t, and she’s had to live in loneliness knowing that for the last few days?
What if it wasn’t, and she thinks I don’t want kids?
I blow out a breath. That last thought stabs me like a knife.
“What if she did and it was positive?” I finally whisper. Tanner is the only person in the entire world I’d feel comfortable having this conversation with. I don’t do vulnerability, but for some reason, with him, I can.
“What if it was?” he repeats .
Is that just what he does now? Repeats my questions back at me?
Well…it’s pretty goddamn effective, that’s for sure.
I never was the guy who was adamant about not wanting kids—at least not until I found out Eddie was my father. That changed a lot for me, but the truth is, Tanner could be right. Maybe I’m not destined to be anything like him despite having his blood in my veins.
I don’t want to be like him. He abandoned us and paid our mother off to ensure we’d never know he fathered the two of us.
The only reason we found out was presumably because he no longer wanted to pay her off and decided he’d slip the news to his youngest son, Asher…
the one who orchestrated telling the two of us just after he informed Lincoln, Grayson, and Spencer.
What if I’m more like Lincoln, the man who took on a ten-year-old kid as his stepson and has two beautiful children with his loving wife?
Or maybe if I’m more like Grayson, who loves his wife so much that he gave up the game to help her run her bakery.
I could be more like Spencer, who is quietly logical and helps run the books at his wife’s vineyards.
Or maybe I’m more like Asher, who had a baby with his wife, and now he’s about to have another one.
I could even be more like Tanner, who married a woman seven years older than him and is the greatest stepdad in the world to her two children.
Or what if I’m just me…the guy who will do anything for the woman I love?
Anything for the woman I love…and any future we create together.
Anything .
Maybe we did make a baby together. It was meant to happen if it did. We tried using protection. But sometimes, what’s meant to be will be. Sometimes these things are out of our control, and we’re powerless to stop them.
Maybe I want to have children with her. I’ve been so blinded by the thought that I’d be just like Eddie that I never stopped to think that maybe I wouldn’t be a damn thing like him.
Maybe I’m just me.
“Look, you made things happen when Cassie and I were apart,” he says. “This is me paying it forward, okay? You need to see her. You need to work this out.”
He’s right.
I need to see her.
It’s Friday. She’s going to Vegas today for her book signing at the Harts and Harps Book Nook—the shop owned by a player on the Vegas Aces and his wife.
I know Travis Woods. I have his number. I can get in touch with him, see if I can launch this plan that’s suddenly coming together in my mind…
“Your wheels are turning,” Tanner says. “I can see it. I see the fire in you, man. Don’t bother with Coach. I’ll cover for you. Go fucking get her, and then get your ass back here and get your head back in the goddamn game.”
I nod, and I can’t help when a grin breaks out across my lips. “Thanks, man.”
He smiles back at me, and he punches me in the shoulder. “Anytime, bro.”