Chapter 22 #2
“I don’t know yet.”
“Mars.”
“What.”
“Can’t you see that man will do anything for you?”
Her words landed softly but heavily, settling somewhere deep inside me. I stared out the window beside my desk, watching cars move through the streets below while my mind replayed everything she had said. The more I thought about it, the harder it became to ignore.
“I need time to think,” I said finally.
“Just don’t wait too long.”
“I’ll call you later.”
“Alright.”
We hung up. For the next hour, I tried to focus on work. Emails. Contracts. Scheduling. Anything that would keep my mind occupied. But no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts kept drifting back to the same place, making it impossible to concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes at a time.
Anything that kept my mind from circling back to Jalen and everything that had happened over the past forty-eight hours.
I finalized a few arrangements for Cal’s upcoming press appearances and sent them over to his calender before finally closing my laptop.
By then, the sun had already started dipping lower across the Houston skyline, casting warm streaks of orange and gold between the buildings.
I grabbed my purse and keys from the kitchen counter, realizing I needed to get out of the house before I drove myself crazy.
The quiet had stopped feeling peaceful hours ago.
I needed a change of scenery, a decent meal, and something else to focus on besides replaying the same conversations over and over in my head.
So I headed for the door, determined to spend the evening anywhere other than my living room.
The drive started out aimless. Just me, my thoughts, and the steady hum of the road beneath my tires. I didn't have a destination in mind. I just needed to get out of the house.
Out of my head.
But somewhere along the way, my hands took over before my brain could catch up. I turned down a familiar street, passed a row of storefronts I'd seen a hundred times, and suddenly realized exactly where I was.
A few minutes later, I was pulling into the parking lot of Gutters. I sat there for a moment staring at the building through my windshield before letting out a quiet laugh. Of all the places, somehow I had ended up here.
Sadly, this place reminded me of Jalen now.
I sat there for a moment before stepping out of the car.
The place was quiet tonight.
The crowd was light, the kind of slow evening where conversations stayed low and soft music drifted lazily through the speakers.
I slid into a booth near the back and ordered something simple before settling in.
The food arrived quickly, and for the first time all day, I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders.
There were no breaking news alerts flashing across television screens, no nonstop phone calls, and no conversations demanding something from me.
Just good food, familiar surroundings, and a rare moment of peace. For a little while,
I finally let myself relax enough to enjoy the food sitting in front of me.
For the first time in what felt like days, my mind wasn't racing quite as fast.
The burger really was as good as I remembered.
I smiled to myself as I reached for another fry.
My phone buzzed against the table.
Cal.
I wiped my hands on my napkin before opening the text.
There wasn't much there.
Just a link and two words.
**Look at this.**
A knot immediately formed in my stomach.
I tapped the article.
The page loaded almost instantly.
My appetite disappeared.
The waitress's face filled my screen beneath a headline that made my eyebrows pull together.
The article didn't paint her as some innocent woman who had accidentally been caught in the middle of a misunderstanding.
According to the reporter, she had developed quite a reputation around the league over the last several years.
The article described her as someone who regularly appeared at upscale restaurants, exclusive lounges, charity events, and private parties where professional athletes were known to gather.
She wasn't interested in football.
She was interested in football players.
The writer included photographs of her talking with several athletes from different teams over the past year.
None of the pictures looked romantic.
They looked familiar.
She was always standing just close enough.
Always smiling.
Always making sure someone with a camera could see her.
I kept scrolling.
Then my heart nearly stopped.
The article had just been updated.
A freelance photographer had come forward claiming he was the person who took the photographs of Jalen outside the practice facility.
I opened the update.
My hands started shaking.
According to his statement, the waitress had approached him nearly twenty minutes before Jalen ever walked outside.
She had offered him cash if he would wait with his camera.
She specifically told him where to stand.
She specifically told him which angle she wanted.
She specifically told him to keep taking pictures no matter what happened.
My chest tightened.
The article included screenshots of their messages.
The timestamps matched.
The payment matched.
Everything matched.
I felt sick.
She had planned the entire thing.
She hadn't accidentally been leaning against Jalen's SUV.
She had placed herself there.
Exactly where he said she had.
Exactly the way he tried to explain.
I slowly lowered my phone onto the table and stared at it as though it might somehow tell me this wasn't real.
My stomach twisted.
The embarrassment I had been carrying for two days suddenly transformed into something so much heavier.
Guilt.
Jalen had told me the truth.
He had called me.
Again.
And again.
And again.
He had driven to my apartment after the game.
He had stood downstairs asking security to let him upstairs.
He had left me voicemail after voicemail begging me to hear him out.
I hadn't listened.
Instead...
I had decided he was guilty before I ever gave him the chance to defend himself.
A lump formed in my throat.
I thought about the way he looked at me.
The way he always made me feel safe.
The way he had quietly spent weeks trying to bring Darren to justice without ever asking me to relive what happened.
He had fought for me.
And I had repaid him by shutting him out.
A tear rolled down my cheek before I realized I was crying.
I quickly wiped it away and laughed bitterly at myself.
The internet had figured out the truth before I had.
I looked back down at my plate.
The burger sat there untouched now.
I stared at it for another moment before shaking my head.
"I can't believe I did this."
Even with everything crashing through my mind, I managed a small smile.
I wasn't about to waste a Gutters burger.
I finished eating, although I barely tasted any of it.
When I finally slid out of the booth, the restaurant had grown noticeably quieter.
The dinner rush had passed, leaving only a handful of people scattered throughout the dining room.
I thanked the waitress, walked outside, and unlocked my car.
The cool evening air brushed gently across my face as I climbed into the driver's seat.
I closed the door.
I didn't start the engine.
Instead, I rested both hands on the steering wheel while the city lights shimmered across the windshield.
The silence inside the car felt overwhelming.
My phone rested in the center console.
I stared at it for what felt like several minutes before finally picking it up.
I opened my favorites.
My thumb hovered over Jalen's name.
I wasn't sure what I was going to say.
I only knew I couldn't wait another second.
I pressed his name.
He answered before the first ring had even finished.
"Amara."
The relief in his voice broke something inside me.
My eyes immediately filled with tears.
"Hi," I whispered.
There wasn't even a hint of anger in his voice.
"Where are you?"
"I just left Gutters."
There was a brief pause.
"I want to see you."
The words came so quickly that I knew he hadn't even thought about them.
He had simply said exactly what was on his heart.
"I want to see you too," I admitted quietly.
Another small silence settled between us.
"Meet me at Meet me at Market Square Park," he said gently. The same park where we had our first publicity stunt.
I looked through the windshield toward the fading sunset.
The park stretched along Buffalo Bayou and had always been one of my favorite places to escape the noise of the city.
"Okay."
"I'll be there."
When I pulled into the parking lot a little while later, the sun had already begun disappearing behind the Houston skyline, leaving streaks of gold and deep orange stretching across the water.
For the first time in two days, I finally felt like I could breathe again.
The sky glowed in soft shades of orange, pink, and lavender as the sun slowly disappeared behind the Houston skyline, casting shimmering reflections across the water that stretched through the park.
The evening breeze carried the scent of freshly cut grass and cooled the warmth that still lingered from the day.
I settled onto the same wooden bench where we had sat after leaving Oliver's weeks earlier, and for the first time since everything had fallen apart, I allowed myself to simply breathe.
A pair of teenagers laughed loudly on the basketball court nearby every time one of them sank a shot, cyclists drifted lazily along the trail, and couples wandered hand in hand beneath the trees.
Life had continued moving around me even while mine had felt like it had stopped.
I rested my hands in my lap and watched the skyline as the city lights slowly began replacing the fading sunlight.
My thoughts wandered back to that first afternoon across the street at Oliver's when all of this had started.
We had walked through this same park pretending to build a fake relationship for the cameras, and somewhere between coffee, late-night dinners, reality television, and stolen kisses in my kitchen, none of it had felt fake anymore.