Chapter 14
KENDRA
It’s fair to say that fate hasn’t exactly been on my side lately, and apparently, not much has changed as I push through the entrance of Rise Up to find Tyler already seated at the same table I shared with Jack not all that long ago.
With coffees and cakes already in front of him, he waves his arm in the air to attract my attention.
“Hey,” Tyler greets me cautiously as I take Jack’s previous seat and hang my jacket on the back of the chair, setting a duffel bag down beside me.
“I, um …” He points at the blueberry muffin and millionaire shortbread on the plate in front of me. “I wasn’t sure which one you preferred, so I went with both.” He smiles. “I know you like blueberry and chocolate, so I figured they were the best options.”
I continue staring down at the treats in front of me, not really processing what he’s saying, consequently allowing my mouth to get ahead of my brain. “I’m actually going through a bit of a scone phase right now, but these are also delicious. So, thank you.”
Tyler tips his head to the side, his hands clasped together on the table. “You’ve never mentioned that before, but if you want me to change it …”
“No, no, it’s fine,” I rush out and then clear my throat, frustrated with myself for saying anything in the first place. “So, you wanted to talk?”
With his left hand, Tyler scratches his temple. “Yeah, I do.”
“What about?” I ask, determined for him to show his cards and lead the conversation if only for once in his life.
The time it takes him to speak again is probably only a couple of seconds, but it feels like forever. “About us.”
Adding a sweetener to my coffee, I pick up my spoon and begin stirring—any excuse to avoid eye contact. I don’t want to be rude, but the atmosphere between us feels awkward, and I’m struggling to sit through it.
Return his bag to him and find closure, Kendra.
I draw in a breath before I speak. “There isn’t an ‘us’ anymore, Tyler. I thought I was here so we could clear the air and move on.”
Reaching down, I pick up his duffel bag and hold it above the table between us. “I think this is everything you left at my place. There wasn’t much, so I could fit it all in here.”
I continue holding the bag on an outstretched arm, but when Tyler doesn’t take it, I finally find the courage to look at him.
“Take it, please.”
His face is full of frustration when he reaches out and hooks his hand around one of the straps. “This is your bag.”
“Keep it,” I reply, waving a hand in front of me. “It’s an old college one I don’t use anymore.”
General conversations go on around us, punctuated by the clatter of plates and noise from the coffee machine as I wait for Tyler to speak again.
He pulls at the back of his neck and looks toward the ceiling. “I’m sorry.”
I nod my head in acknowledgement. I wasn’t necessarily looking for an apology, but I appreciate the fact that I have one, even if it’s years overdue.
“Can we at least try and be friends?” Tyler asks.
I think we both know the chances of us being friends are slim, especially since the only thing we have in common is the city we live in. But I don’t want to risk another argument.
“Sure,” I reply, offering my best but ultimately weak smile.
Tyler pulls out his phone and starts scrolling. I force back an eye roll. He never could give me his full attention; the pull of social media and engagement updates on his latest post always proved way more captivating to him.
He presses his lips together in thought.
“In that case, I think it’s a good idea for us to go to the gala next week as a couple.
I know we’d be friends, but my mom and dad have been asking questions about us since they read rumors that we’d parted on bad terms, and Dad’s concerned that it reflects badly on my character.
So, if we go together and make it clear we’re attending as friends, then I guess that would help. ”
“Gala?” I ask on a long breath. “What are you talking about?”
Tyler’s brow furrows. “The annual pro athlete gala, Kend. The one we attended last year. You know, the one for chari—”
“I remember.” I cut him off.
Fuck.
My stomach drops. With everything going on, I somehow managed to forget that the NYPAG—New York Pro Athlete Gala—was scheduled for next Saturday night. All the email reminders about it are still unopened in my inbox.
Taking a sip of coffee to buy myself another few seconds of thinking time, I set my cup back down and look at Tyler.
“So, you want me to go with you to help with your reputation?” My voice is incredulous.
I never liked Tyler’s dad, but now I’m starting to see exactly where my ex-boyfriend gets his egotistical hang-ups. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
I take another sip of cool coffee. “Because I’m not a pawn in your PR game.”
“Huh,” he huffs out and strokes his rough jawline. “Is it because you have a date to the gala?”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Why would you think that?”
“Because, Kendra”—he holds out his hand, motioning toward me—“you seem to have gotten over us really fucking quickly. Four years.” His voice rises, and his eyes dart around the café to make sure no one noticed.
His voice drops to a whisper. “Four years of being together, and you’ve moved on like I never even existed. ”
For the first time since I can remember, I see something that resembles regret on my ex-boyfriend’s face.
“I’m not seeing anyone,” I confirm. “I’m just taking time for myself and setting boundaries right now.
A lot of my hurting came months, maybe even years before we split.
A year ago, you gave me an ultimatum—soccer in the UK or you.
I chose us and followed you to this city, only to be left out in the cold. ”
“Well, all I can say is, I’m sorry.” There’s an edge to Tyler’s voice that tells me his words might not be all that sincere.
I don’t need his pity. “It’s fine. All water under the bridge now.”
When silence falls between us again, I push back my chair, unable to stand the atmosphere any longer.
“Where are you going?”
I push the muffin and shortbread toward him. “Here, you have them. I think we’ve said everything we need to.”
I’m reaching for my jacket on the back of my chair when Tyler’s phone catches my attention. It’s on the other side of the table, but the message is unmissable.
Unknown
Just wanted to say the other night was amazing. You were amazing. We should definitely do it again sometime. *winking face*
When we were dating, the thought of Tyler moving on with another woman made me feel nauseous. To some extent, that might have been what stopped me from ending things between us sooner—fear of hurt.
But as I shrug on my jacket and pull my hair from the collar, I feel nothing. Complete indifference. The only emotion running through me is the simmering anger I feel at his audacity to have an issue with me potentially dating someone else.
This was the closure I needed.
I point toward his phone as Tyler continues to watch me, for once unaware of the lit screen to his left. “Looks like Unknown might be able to be your date next Saturday.”
The indifference I was feeling ten minutes ago didn’t last.
The second I walked into Jack’s apartment, I went straight for my bedroom, not even stopping to check if he was in the living area.
I’ve never been someone to cry, but as every possible emotion hits me like a tidal wave, the tears begin to flow.
What my life could’ve looked like right now if I’d only chosen myself over a boy.
The London-based team that offered me a contract has been at the top of the Super League since it got underway, making them current favorites to secure a place in the prestigious Champions League. Something that would’ve undoubtedly helped my chances of making the national squad.
I look around the luxurious room and run a hand along the Egyptian cotton duvet as I dump myself down on the bed.
I can’t stay here and live off Jack’s hospitality. These were decisions I made, and I can’t expect other people to pick up my pieces.
Trying to sob in silence, I sit up and reach over to the nightstand, uplugging my phone charger and stuffing it into the suitcase at the foot of my—Jack’s—bed.
A soft knock stops me in my tracks. “Kendra?”
“Just give me a minute, okay?” I ask Jack in an unsteady voice.
“Are you dressed?”
“What?” I ask, a laugh threatening to break through the sobs.
A long sigh filters through the door. “Are you decent?”
“Yeah,” I answer.
Jack’s face is full of concern when he opens the bedroom door and sets his eyes on me. He then looks to my opened suitcase. “Where are you going?”
I shove my long hair behind my ears. “I can’t stay here. I’m taking advantage of you.”
“You aren’t.”
“I am,” I counter, standing from the bed and heading for the dresser next to Jack.
In a hurry, I pull the drawer open, and Jack reaches out, placing his big hand over mine as I grip the handle in my palm. Anything to prevent the tears from flowing freely again.
“Talk to me, Kendra.” His voice is soft and understanding, like a warm blanket cushioning my troubles. “Did Tyler say something?”
“No,” I reply on a deep breath. “I just think my bullshit bucket might be at full capacity.”
“Bullshit bucket? That’s one I haven’t heard before.”
I press my lips together, my mood switching from desperate to kind of amused. “Can you not for just a second?”
“Not what?”
His hand is still resting over mine as I look up at him, and my attention snags on the popped dimple in his cheek.
“Not make me smile when all I want to do is throw my clothes around the room and yell into one of your unnecessary Egyptian thread pillows.”
His smile grows wider, and his blue eyes sparkle with mischief. “But you have to admit, Hart. Life’s more fun when you smile.”
“I’m not preventing you from smiling all you want,” I huff, trying to maintain my mood.
It happens before either of us can register it—his other hand reaching up and tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.