Chapter 21 #4
By the time I got home, the adrenaline from the game had disappeared, leaving behind nothing but exhaustion.
I tossed my keys onto the kitchen counter, dropped my duffel bag beside the door, and immediately checked my phone again.
Nothing.
I looked at Mars's name one more time before scrolling to another contact.
Cal answered on the third ring.
"Man," he said immediately, "are you alright?"
"You've seen the picture?"
"I've seen all of them."
I leaned against the kitchen counter and rubbed my hand across my face.
"I've been trying to reach your sister for hours."
There was a brief pause.
"She isn't answering, is she?"
I laughed quietly, but there wasn't any humor in it.
"No."
"I figured."
I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Cal sighed.
"You have to understand something about Mars."
I waited.
"When she's hurt, she doesn't yell."
He paused.
"She disappears."
My chest tightened.
"I didn't do this, Cal."
"I know."
His answer came without hesitation.
"I know you didn't."
I closed my eyes.
"Then help me fix it."
Another long silence settled between us before Cal finally spoke.
"I'll talk to her."
I released the breath I had been holding.
"Thank you."
"But don't expect her to come around tonight."
"Why?"
"Because if she's hurting the way I think she is, she needs time to quiet the storm in her own head before she'll be able to hear yours."
I looked down at the phone in my hand.
"I just don't want her thinking I betrayed her."
"I know."
His voice softened.
"And that's exactly why you're going to have to prove to her that you didn't."
“There’s something else you should know,” I said.
“What.”
"I met with Whitaker this morning."
The change in Cal's voice was immediate.
"What for?"
I leaned back against the kitchen counter and let out a slow breath.
"I need you to hear all of this before you say anything."
"I'm listening."
I told him everything.
I explained how Whitaker had quietly started looking into Darren after Mars trusted me with the truth.
I told him about the investigators, the former coworkers they interviewed, and the trail that eventually led them to three women who were willing to tell their own stories.
I explained how every account followed the same pattern Mars had described.
The years were different.
The cities were different.
The women had never even met each other.
The pattern was almost identical.
Then I told him about the District Attorney.
About Monday.
About the press conference the women had agreed to hold if everything moved forward.
When I finally stopped talking, the silence on the other end of the phone lasted several long seconds.
Neither of us rushed to fill it.
The weight of everything I had just said seemed heavier now that someone else was carrying it with me.
Finally, Cal spoke.
"Does Mars know?"
"No."
"Why?"
I stared out the kitchen window into the darkness.
"Because I know her."
I rubbed the back of my neck.
"If I had told her before anything was confirmed, she would have tried to stop all of it."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
I paused for a moment.
"She has spent years trying to bury that part of her life, and the last thing she wants is to watch it get dragged back into the public."
Cal was quiet again.
"Did you tell Whitaker about Mars?"
"Never."
I answered without hesitation.
"Her name isn't in a single file."
I continued before he could ask another question.
"The three women who came forward are the only ones stepping into the public eye."
"Mars won't have to give a statement."
"She won't have to stand in front of cameras."
"She won't have to relive any of it unless she decides that's what she wants."
Cal let out a slow breath.
"Thank you."
His words caught me off guard.
"You don't have to thank me."
"I do."
His voice had softened in a way I hadn't heard before.
"I've spent years wishing somebody could do something about that man, and every time I brought it up, Mars shut the conversation down before it even started."
He paused.
"I hated feeling helpless."
"So did I."
"I know."
Another silence settled between us.
Finally, Cal spoke again.
"You really love her, don't you?"
I didn't answer right away.
There wasn't any point pretending anymore.
"Yeah," I admitted quietly.
"I do."
He let out a quiet laugh.
"I figured."
"What gave it away?"
"The fact that you spent your morning with one of the best attorneys in Texas trying to protect my sister instead of worrying about one of the biggest games of your career."
I smiled faintly.
"I guess that says it all."
"It does."
He sighed.
"Just promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Don't give up on her because she pushed you away."
"I won't."
"You have to understand how Mars works."
I listened.
"When she's scared, she doesn't argue."
"When she's overwhelmed, she doesn't scream."
"When she feels like someone she loves might hurt her, she disappears before they get the chance."
I closed my eyes.
"That's exactly what she's doing."
"It is."
His voice softened even more.
"She isn't shutting you out because she stopped caring."
"Then why?"
"Because she's terrified that she cared too much."
Those words settled heavily in my chest.
"I didn't do anything, Cal."
"I know you didn't."
He answered so quickly that it almost made me laugh.
"I know the kind of man you are."
"Then how do I fix this?"
"You don't fix it tonight."
I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"You keep showing up."
He paused.
"You tell her the truth."
"You give her space to process everything."
"And when she's finally ready to listen..."
He let the sentence hang for a moment.
"...you make sure you're still standing there."
I nodded even though he couldn't see me.
"I can do that."
"I know you can."
Then his voice grew quieter.
"And Jalen?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm really glad my sister found you."
I looked down at the phone in my hand.
"I just hope she still believes that when all of this is over."
“I’ll try talking to her tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
After we hung up, I finally forced myself into the shower.
The hot water ran over my shoulders, but it didn’t do much to loosen the tension sitting in my chest.
When I got out, the house was still quiet.
Still emptyI climbed into bed and stared up at the ceiling, hoping sleep would come quickly and give my mind a break from everything that had happened.
Instead, I found myself reaching for my phone every few minutes, checking the screen even though I knew nothing had changed.
No calls. No texts. No explanation. Just silence.
The hours dragged by, and with each passing minute, the knot of anxiety in my stomach seemed to tighten a little more.
And even though I had just played one of the hardest games of the season, sleep never came.