Chapter Ten
Blue
The crowd cheers, I clap out of habit, but I’m someplace else entirely.
Going multiple days existing under the same roof with someone you’ve hardly spoken to takes its toll, I guess.
The argument about my mother just sort of erased what little progress West and I made, sending us right back where we started. Or maybe I’m wrong about that. Maybe we’re actually worse off than before.
Honestly, had it not been for every gossip outlet already having a field day with our private life, I probably would’ve skipped today’s game.
But they don’t need more ammunition than they already have.
Between our fertility struggles and West’s past with Coach’s daughter, all of it is just kindling for the fire.
They haven’t let up, and I’m sure that’s trickled down to the team.
West hardly says two words to me when he gets in from practice, but if he did, I’m positive at least half the shit he’d tell me would be about how weird things have gotten with the guys.
As if he needs more of that.
I settle back in my seat outside our suite, watching Remi snap the ball to West who then launches the ball down the field. The crowd goes wild when it’s caught, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more distracted watching him play.
Scar settles in beside me, and I know she feels it—my frustration, the growing sense of hopelessness. We take two steps forward, and I swear we’re taking ten backward the next day.
“You okay?” Scar whispers, keeping her voice low so our friends and family don’t hear.
I nod. “Mostly.”
She squeezes my hand then holds it in hers. “I shouldn’t have brought up the Mom-thing the other day. You guys have enough going on right now. I—”
“You did the right thing,” I cut in, assuring her that none of this is her fault. “Mom made you the middleman. That’s not on you.”
She sighs then slumps against me, dropping her head to my shoulder.
“Well, I took care of it. I reached out to one of the state-funded facilities and she’s already squared away.
If she’s serious about getting sober, where she’s been admitted won’t matter.
It’s up to her to show us if she actually means it this time. ”
“Agreed.” Despite that being my response, I have zero hope that will ever happen.
I kiss the top of Scar’s hair, and it’s like old times. Just me and her getting through the hard shit our mother dumps on top of us.
I’m a bit more clearheaded now that I’ve got at least one thing settled, and I look around me. At the love and support West and I have here. No, things haven’t been easy, but this has been the best part.
Dad and Hannah came out to watch today, and Hunter too. He’s still notably keeping his distance from our father, but he had the day off from training and decided to show up.
Joss is here, of course, but so are Ricky, Dez, and Jules.
And then, there’s Tiffany.
She’s gone from being from at least pretending to be with us, to total abandonment, choosing instead to sit with the other wives. I don’t care one way or another, but due to the clear optics, I can already see the headlines that’ll come of this.
A whispered “I hate that bitch,” comes from my right, and I’m already laughing as I snap a look toward Joss.
“You’re not the only one,” Scar mumbles from my left, and it seems all three of us share the same opinion.
“Look at her. She’s just so fucking…”
“Smug?” I say, thinking that’s the word Joss is looking for.
“That fits.” She shrugs, then rolls her eyes back to the field.
“Sterling definitely deserves better,” Scar says.
“Yeah, but he has to want better. And until he decides to leave that one alone, we have to just grin and bear it.”
Joss’s tone is dark, and I like this side of her.
Back in the day, she was quiet and innocent, the Golden boys’ closest friend, their voice of reason, and their moral compass.
But as an adult, she’s found her voice. I like to think her confidence came from Dane helping her see her worth, but whatever the case, she’s found it and she’s not a woman you want to get fired up.
My thought is interrupted by a buzz in my pocket. Joss and Scar carry on the conversation without me as I open an email from the bank. The headline tells me all I need to know.
Your loan request has been approved.
I take a deep breath and a sense of relief hits. The feeling is unexpected, but it speaks to how badly I needed this.
For myself.
For the sake of my marriage.
After West’s my money comment the other night, I hardly slept. I tossed and turned, thinking about how dependent I am on him. Even the one thing I have for me was funded by him.
I hated the way it felt, knowing I couldn’t stand on my own two feet even if I wanted to.
So, I pulled out my phone and applied for a loan for the amount I’ll need to complete the project at the youth center. That way, when it’s finished and I pay back the borrowed money on my own terms, no one can say I needed them to do it.
Not even West.
My eyes are scanning the last line of text in the email when a sound from the crowd pulls me out of my head. It’s not their usual cheers and screams. It’s something sharper, a collective gasp just as Joss clutches my arm.
I feel like time slows as my gaze snaps to the field, taking in what I’m seeing below as I rise to my feet.
West clutching his shoulder as he writhes on the ground.
Both teams taking a knee.
The coaches and officials rushing the field.
“Wh—what happened?” I’m breathless as the question leaves my mouth. I want to know and don’t want to know all at the same time.
“He took a hit,” Joss says. “He went down on his shoulder and it just… I don’t know.”
Her voice is panicked, matching the emotion bubbling inside my chest.
“I have to get to him.”
The words have barely left my mouth when I sprint through our suite to the exit.
I can’t even think straight, taking wrong turn after wrong turn as I navigate the stadium.
There are footsteps behind me. Some I’m sure are our security guys keeping up with me, but when I glance back over my shoulder, I’m not surprised to see all the girls trailing me as well.
“Mrs. Golden,” a voice calls out, and my steps halt.
The team liaison rushes toward me as she takes a call.
“I found her. We’ll be down in a minute,” she says into the phone before addressing me again. “I can take you down to be with your husband once they have him off the field, but only you and Ms. Francois Have clearance. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. Just call and let us know he’s okay,” Dez says, squeezing my hand as I nod.
“Okay. I’ll text.”
With that, Joss and I fall in step beside the liaison, following her lead to the staff elevator.
A million thoughts are racing through my head as we descend, and none of them are good.
I’m thinking about West not taking care of himself because he’s been so busy taking care of me.
I’m thinking about whether this is it for him and whether he’ll have to give up the sport he loves so much.
I’m thinking about what our lives will look like if things are as bad up close as they looked from the suite.
“Breathe,” Joss whispers, and I slip my hand into hers, needing whatever comfort I can find right now.
“Shit, Joss. What if…”
“Don’t,” she cuts in. “We don’t know what’s what yet, so let’s not assume.”
I hear her words, I want to believe her words, but luck hasn’t been on our side lately, and I can’t help but think this will be yet another thing.
I’m tearing up as the elevator doors part, and we’re moving swiftly again.
“I can’t take you out on the field during gametime, but we can wait for him in the tunnel,” the woman says, and I nod, feeling like my heart might beat right out of my chest.
The rest of the walk is a blur, and hardly a walk, actually. We’re nearly running, and I feel lightheaded as sunlight brightens the end of a long hallway leading out to the field.
Please, let him be okay.
Please, let him be okay.
It feels like forever and a day passes before the first silhouette comes into view, then it’s as though the tunnel is flooded with bodies. But even with all the chatter, the roar of the medical cart’s motor… I hear him.
I squeeze Joss’s hand tighter as the distinct sound of West cursing and groaning in pain echoes off the walls, piercing my heart. The trainers and medical team rush past, and they’re moving so quickly I can’t even make my presence known, can’t let him know I’m right here and will be here.
I glance toward Joss. I swear it’s like all my worst fears are bleeding right into reality, and there isn’t a single thing I can do to stop any of it.
*
@QweenPandora:
WTF just happened?
It’s like I blinked, then #KingMidas was taken down.
I’m not a total asshole, so I won’t kick a man while he’s down (literally), but… does anyone else think this, along with all their other drama, is a message from the Universe?
Maybe coming home wasn’t in the stars for the royal couple.
Maybe this is all one big cosmic sign that you should’ve just… stayed away.
Food for thought.
Later, peeps :)
—P