CHAPTER 1 DANNY
I sit on the balcony of my second story room as I stare out over the ocean.
Is this what heartbreak feels like?
I’m not sure since I’ve never dealt with this kind of thing before, but my chest is heavy with a constant, dull ache.
I’m tired since I didn’t sleep all night, and my head hurts—also for the same reason, probably, unless it’s because of the heartache.
My stomach is in knots, and I have no idea how to cope with all this.
I shouldn’t be heartbroken. She made promises to me. She loves me. But all the same…
She’s marrying someone else today.
I should order lunch.
I never ate breakfast.
I can’t eat.
I think about calling room service for a drink, but that would require me to get up.
I can’t get up.
I glance at my phone again. It’s cemented into my palm, ringer volume at full blast, and still…nothing.
She hasn’t called.
She hasn’t texted.
Maybe she actually wanted Brooks after all.
Maybe I’ve just been a fucking idiot believing in the lies, believing that she wanted me too. Maybe I was the other man this whole time, and she played me for a fool.
Those thoughts sneak their way in, but I know the truth.
She loves me. She loves me the same way I love her. It’s devotion and adoration. It’s pure and simple. It’s everything.
And yet, she’s marrying someone else today.
It doesn’t spell the end for us, which is something I never thought I’d say given my painful past regarding infidelity and my very strong beliefs when it comes to cheating.
But I still had this little glimmer of hope somewhere deep down that she believed enough in us to end this sham and choose me.
I gave her my blessing to go through with it. I told her to do it. I shouldn’t have. I should have fought harder. I should have begged her to stay. I should have done something, anything.
So I sent bacon.
What the fuck more could I have done?
The answer is lost on me.
I thought bacon and donuts might’ve gotten through to her.
I guess I was wrong—about a lot of things. Not just the bacon.
And that hurts more than it should.
I’ve been right here for most of the day, waiting to hear from her as a pit of despair knots my stomach.
I can guess why I haven’t heard from her—not that it makes things any better.
I’m certain her father is hovering over her.
Maybe he even took her phone. Maybe he saw my message.
Maybe he never showed it to her. Maybe he deleted it and she doesn’t know I’m thinking about her—only her, nonstop as anxiety plagues me that she’s marrying the wrong man.
I could go stop it.
I could fight my way in somehow.
But I also know security is tight. It should be, after all. One of the biggest stars in the world is getting married, and she needs her protection.
And meanwhile, the bride who always is a vision of beauty is being primped and primed for her wedding day as she prepares to marry the wrong man.
My phone rings, vibrating in my hand as my heart lifts with hope, but it’s only Rush calling.
I send it to voicemail.
He knows today’s Alexis’s wedding day. I’m sure the coverage is all over the place. I haven’t brought myself to look yet.
I can’t imagine seeing her in a wedding dress as she walks toward the wrong man.
My phone dings with a text, and I hurry to check if it’s from her. It’s not.
I scratch at the beard that I’ve grown over the last week. I haven’t been in the mood for facial grooming, exactly, and every time I let it go for more than a couple of days, my face itches like hell.
At least it’s a feeling. At least it’s not numbness. That’s what I keep telling myself.
Maybe I’ll get used to it.
Rush: Are you okay, man? Your sister is worried.
The text is evidence enough he’s worried, too.
My sister tries calling, too, and I wonder how long they talked about which one of them should call me first and how they decided on Rush instead of Anna.
I can’t find it in me to reply.
Cooper calls, too. I don’t answer.
My mom calls, and I nearly answer her call, but I don’t.
Instead, I keep staring out over the ocean.
You know who doesn’t call?
That’s right.
Caroline Alexis Bodega.
It feels good to know I have a network of people who care about me, but that’s little solace right now as I think about what our future will look like.
Can I really wait around until she’s untied from him?
I hope I can. I told her I will. I want to be able to.
But I’m not sure.
What if it’s more than a year? What if it’s forever?
What if I end up alone when I had her right there, when we were so goddamn close we could taste it?
There’s a knock at my door, and I lift to my feet. Is it her?
I race through my suite, look through the peephole, and sigh as I open the door. “Can I help you?”
“Sorry to bother you, sir,” a maintenance man says. “We had a work request about a lightbulb. We can come back later.”
“It’s fine,” I say, opening the door wider, and I move to return to my chair on the balcony.
Before I get outside, though, the man says, “Congrats on your win.”
Do I look like I’m in the mood for conversation? “Thanks, man.”
He nods. “I’ve been a fan of yours since your days on the Rockies. Helluva ballplayer.”
“I appreciate that,” I say, heading out to the balcony.
“My kid is a big fan, too,” he hints.
I draw in a long breath through my nose and exhale through my mouth. I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t want to be doing this. I’m not here to sign shit for this man. He didn’t ask, probably because he’s not allowed to, but I get where he’s going.
I grab the room service menu and the pen on the nightstand. “What’s your kid’s name?”
“Maddox,” he says.
To Maddox. Your dad got this for you. -Danny Brewer
My signature is illegible, but it’s legit.
I hand the menu over to Maddox’s dad. “Have a good day,” I say, and then I escape to the patio, my phone still clutched in my palm as I wait.