Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
Sorry for being anxious earlier. I have no idea if everything will be fine.
—Nettie to Boone
Boone
She was home, but she wasn’t.
It was the hardest thing that I’d ever experienced in my life.
Even worse, now we were on a plane to Miami, a day after she got out of the hospital.
Not to mention, she was seven and a half months pregnant, and the thought of her being on a plane really struck terror through my veins.
Luckily, she was insanely healthy. The baby was doing great, according to the best doctors in Montana, and the flight wasn’t overly long.
I strapped my belt around my waist and leaned over to make sure that Nettie’s was in place, too.
“You let me know if anything hurts, okay?” I ordered.
She held up her hand in the Boy Scout’s promise.
I rolled my eyes and stowed her tray table back where it belonged.
She squirmed in the first-class seat before saying, “This seat is really uncomfortable.”
I’d imagine so. Especially if I had a baby already restricting my movement.
“Did you go through my emails yet?” she asked.
We didn’t know why the team had been so overly hostile toward Nettie.
Well, memory-damaged Nettie didn’t.
But I was sure that non-damaged memory knew damn well why her team owner and manager were being so hostile.
She was probably trying to save me from feeling badly about knocking her up, that was why she was keeping me from it.
“No, but I have a buddy on it,” I said just as my phone dinged.
She looked at me expectantly, and I pulled my phone out.
“It’s here,” I said.
“Prepare for takeoff,” the pilot said to the flight attendants.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket and held out my hand for Nettie’s.
She’d never liked to fly.
I’d always worried about her when I knew she had to fly for a game.
I’d figure out a way to text her before she left, then when she landed, just to make sure she was safe.
It was nice to finally be on that plane with her so I could hold her.
I never wanted her to be scared, not for the rest of her life. Not if I could help it.
Nettie’s hand clutched onto mine.
I talked to her about her life as we started moving down the runway.
I told her about how I would text her every time she was about to take off.
How I’d make her really mad just so she had something else to focus on throughout the flight.
That’s when my Nettie made an appearance.
“You texted me one time and asked me if I ever thought about how much better life could be if I only forgave you.”
I had done that.
That’d been one of the last times she’d left me before we’d decided to give us another chance.
“I remember being really mad throughout that flight,” she said. “I stayed mad for a solid nine hours as we flew from South Carolina to Oregon.”
“Glad I could be of service,” I teased.
“Glad that I could finally get my head out of my ass.” She paused. “I can remember some things. Mainly being really mad, but I don’t know why. And I remember Margery. Her house smells like snickerdoodles all the time.”
It did smell like snickerdoodles.
“It’ll all come back in time.” I squeezed her hand.
“Read the file your friend sent,” she urged.
I pulled out my phone and held it between us so that we could both read.
Boone, fuck, man. Your girl is getting sued.
By her old team. They’re mad that she ended her contract with them early.
She still had two years. The suit is for loss of revenue and payment.
They want sixteen million dollars from her or she’s expected back next season.
The contract is iron-clad, usually. But there is a clause about pregnancy and ending the contract early for that and that alone.
Though, they have a little nugget in there that says if you get pregnant and try to terminate the contract early, you have to pay back what’s left in your contract, as well as pay for damages caused by that athlete’s early departure.
Nettie’s retained a lawyer who specializes in athletes.
The lawyer’s a good one and is currently looking into everything, so I’m not too worried.
But the concerning thing is that this owner is pissed as hell that they lost their star player.
Like really pissed. Overly pissed. He’s bad-mouthing her to everyone he knows.
Even Oregon FC, where she was going to go play.
If Beau hadn’t offered her a contract, she would’ve been without a team next year.
The owner, Kason Blaylock, has badmouthed her far and wide, saying she was an impossible team player and had a horrible attitude.
“This owner sounds like a complete dick.”
“Agreed,” Nettie hummed. “I don’t remember anything about him.”
The apartment was contractually supposed to be paid out for the rest of this year per her contract details.
The early termination goes against her contract, and I’ve already forwarded all the information I could find to her lawyer.
The apartment complex is also holding her things indefinitely because I sent them a strongly worded email with the contract terms and explained everything that happened.
They’re very apologetic. So if you didn’t want to leave right now, you could wait.
“Too late for that,” Nettie mused.
“Yep,” I agreed.
If you do decide to go today, be aware of the other players and the team manager that live in the same complex. They’re all pretty hostile sounding in the emails that I read through last night. They’re not happy with her, and think she’s the reason behind their upcoming losing season.
“Geez,” Nettie said. “They sound like a lot of fun. I’m sure I really loved playing with them.”
I thought about all the comments she’d made over the years that I’d overheard, or she’d said directly to me.
“I think that you liked playing there,” I said. “But only because of the warm weather. You always complained to Eddy about having no friends there.”
“Hmm,” she murmured.
Lawyer’s name is at the bottom of this email.
I summarized all emails from the lawyer, too, so y’all have something to go on.
He’s expecting the call shortly, so he can update you on everything.
Also, one last thing. I was looking through the contract and found a small insert at the end with an addendum that Nettie had inserted by her lawyer.
It was in the contract that she signed. And not in the contract that the Miami FC signed second.
All signed DocuSign, by the way. So I went ahead and sent that to the lawyer, too.
He’s aware and already making plans. He’s hoping to settle all of this out of court so y’all don’t have to go to Miami again seeing as Nettie’s big pregnant.
Still working on the rest, but if you need anything more, text me. Apollo.
“Seems like you forgot to tell me a lot,” I scolded her.
She looked up at me with those champagne eyes that I loved so much and admitted, “I kind of wish that I’d told you now. But if I was protecting you from this bullshit, after hearing about your mother…”
She had a point.
I’d had a lot on my plate.
“What a mess,” I sighed as I brought her hand up to my mouth to kiss. “We’ll figure it out, though.”
“Is the moving company there already, do you think?” she asked.
I’d called a twenty-four-hour moving company in Miami last night and given them the apartment manager’s information. I’d told them to meet us there later this afternoon after our flight landed.
“I wanted to get there first and get the lay of the land,” I said. “Plus, I’d think you would want to pick through some of your stuff and make sure that they weren’t touching any of your valuables.”
She pursed her lips. “I guess that’s true.”
It was really true when we got to her apartment seven hours later and found her collection of dildos.
One, in particular, caught my eye.
It was a direct replica of me.
I remembered very specifically when we’d done it.
I was seventeen and the thought of doing it had been so exciting that I hadn’t balked when she’d waved the kit in front of me a few days before she’d left for college.
I actually burst out laughing when I saw it in her nightstand drawer.
“Whoa,” she said as she picked it up. “Why are there four of the same one?”
I picked up the original and held it out with a huge grin on my face. “This is the one that I made when you went to college.”
She blinked.
“These.” I picked up the other three in assorted colors. “Are likely the clones of this one.”
She giggled. “Seems like I might have had an attachment to you.”
“I’d say,” I teased as I stuffed them all into a bag that would be checked on our flight back home.
She slowly started to rub her belly as she walked around the room.
She stopped in front of a photo and stared.
I walked up behind her to see one of the first photos that we’d ever taken together.
It’d always been attached to her vanity mirror every time I’d dropped in to see her.
Yeah, neither one of us had ever given up on the other.
That much was obvious.
She slowly reached out and pulled the photo free of the mirror.
It had years of tape lines on it. It’d been bent. But it was still her most prized photo.
Just like the one that I kept in my hat of her. Of the ones that’d been in my truck.
“I…”
She lifted her hand to her head and gasped.
I froze, my hand halfway outstretched to catch her if she fell.
Then she whirled.
I caught her when she threw herself at me, pulling her in close as she started to sob.
“Baby, what…”
“I remember.” She sniffled. “I’m so sorry!”
Relief hit me like a battering ram straight to the chest.
I squeezed her just a little bit tighter, and the baby between us protested by kicking out at the solid wall of my belly.