Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Will
The team is locked in, and we’re up seven to nothing on the scoreboard. It’s just the second quarter, so there’s a lot of football left to play, but damn if I don’t like the look of what that screen is showing right now.
My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, but I ignore it.
I watch the next drive, which lands us just three yards shy of a touchdown, and the offense lines up again.
“Hell yes!” I say as the ball is snapped, and we’re in the endzone.
The guys celebrate before our kicker jogs out onto the field and kicks us an extra point.
“Sit the next one out,” I tell my starters. We’re up fourteen points, and this is a preseason game. I don’t want to risk them getting hurt, so I’m putting in my second-string next time we get the ball.
I watch as the defense takes the field and waits for the snap when my phone vibrates a second time, reminding me I have a new message.
Curious, because everyone who knows me knows it’s game day, I tug it out of my pocket and see a text message from my daughter.
That’s weird, because she’s here watching the game.
I glance up at the suite that I know she’s in before opening her message.
Bellamy: Hey, Dad. Can you tell Reid that I might not be there when the game is over?
Amanda passed out in the suite. The EMTs looked her over, but I’m taking her to the hospital to get checked out just in case.
I know he doesn’t have his phone, so can you get word to him for me, please? Thank you. Love you.
I grip my phone so tightly in my fist that I’m half afraid it might crack.
Amanda passed out. My Amanda.
The words echo in my skull, hollow and unreal, as if they belong to someone else’s nightmare. A cold fist closes around my heart, squeezing until it’s hard to breathe.
I have to get to her.
Jerry, the general manager, lays a hand on my shoulder. I hadn’t even noticed him walk up.
“Will?” he says carefully.
I look up at him, my vision hazy with worry. Whatever he sees on my face makes his expression shift instantly, and concern shines in his eyes.
“I have to go.” My throat tightens so hard the words scrape their way out. “Family emergency.”
“Bellamy? Coral?” he asks, knowing my family. He doesn’t know my Mandy, though. Tomorrow is the day we were going to tell my daughter and the rest of the world. I never got to shout it from the rooftops what she means to me.
Fuck, please let her be okay.
I shake my head. My mouth feels numb. “My girl—” I can’t finish from the worry clogging my throat. My voice is rough, almost breaking. Jerry’s eyes widen a fraction. “I have to go.”
A mix of surprise and understanding crosses his face. “Are you safe to drive?” he asks.
I’m already ripping the headset off my head and shoving it into his chest. I don’t answer. I can’t. I’m moving before his question even registers, jogging off the field toward the tunnel. The roar of the stadium fades into a dull, distant blur behind the pounding of my heart.
Amanda passed out.
My chest tightens harder with every step. I try to think about her telling me she’s not been feeling well. I know she’s been having a hard time sleeping this week, but that’s all that she’s mentioned. Did I miss signs? She passed out. That’s not normal.
Fuck… Mia. I don’t know where she is, but I know Bellamy will make sure she’s okay. As soon as I check on Amanda and lay eyes on her, I’ll get our girl from whoever is watching her right now.
Slamming open the door to my office, I grab my keys off the desk with shaking hands and bolt back out.
Someone calls my name. Then another voice.
I don’t stop. I can’t. All I know is that she needs me, and nothing is stopping me from going to her.
The game, the team, my job, none of it matters right now.
None of it means a damn thing if she’s lying in a hospital bed and I’m not there.
I should call Bellamy. Demand answers. Find out what the hell is going on. But the hospital isn’t far. I’ll be there soon to see for myself. I won’t be able to relax until I lay eyes on her.
Bellamy’s message made it sound like she was awake and okay. I’m very aware that I might be freaking out for nothing, but you can’t tell a man that the woman he loves passed out for no logical reason and expect him not to freak out.
Bursting out of the stadium doors, I sprint across the parking lot, my lungs burning, keys clenched in my fist like a lifeline. My SUV unlocks with a sharp chirp, and I wrench the door open and climb inside. Hastily, I pull on my seat belt as the engine roars to life.
I peel out of the lot, tires squealing against asphalt as I blow past the exit. Every red light feels like an enemy. Every second feels like hours. My hands clamp around the steering wheel so tight, my knuckles ache while fear coils deeper in my chest with every mile.
“Hold on, baby. I’m coming,” I murmur as I turn left into the emergency department parking lot. Luckily, there’s an open spot. I slide my SUV into it before slamming the gearshift into Park, grabbing my keys, and climbing out. I’m running as soon as my feet hit the ground.
I don’t stop until I’m standing in front of the receptionist, my hands braced on the counter, my breath coming in rapid spurts, as I breathe out her name: “Amanda. Holton. Amanda Holton. I need to see her,” I manage to form a complete sentence.
“Are you family?” the receptionist asks.
“Yes.” I swallow hard.
“What is your relationship to the patient?”
“She’s my everything,” I rasp. “Take me to her. Please,” I add, trying to soften the blow of my demand.
“I’m sorry, sir, immediate family only. You can have a—” she starts, but I lean in close and glare at her.
“That woman is my life. That’s closer than immediate family.
Her fucking family disowned her because she adopted a beautiful baby girl on her own.
Family isn’t blood. It’s right fucking here,” I say, slapping a hand over my chest. “And this is where Amanda and her daughter live inside me. Please, let me see her,” I beg, my voice cracking.
I’m trying to stay calm and not yell because you catch more flies with honey, but my patience is wearing thin.
“Let him back,” another lady sitting at the next window says. “I’ll take him back. If the patient doesn’t look like she wants to see him, I’ll escort him out or call security.”
“She wants to see me.” I nod. “Thank you. Thank you,” I say, my voice betraying me with a crack, unable to hide my emotions.
She moves to the door and hits a button to buzz me through. I waste no time pushing through the doors and following her down the hall. “Ms. Holton, you have a very concerned visitor,” the woman says before pulling back a curtain.
“Will?” Amanda asks. She’s sitting up in a hospital bed, shock written all over her face. “What are you doing here?” she asks.
“Is it okay that he’s here?” the woman who showed me to her room asks.
“Yes, of course,” Amanda answers.
My feet move toward her bedside, and I bend over, pressing my lips to hers. “What happened?” I ask when I pull away.
Amanda’s eyes are wide with shock, and then I hear a throat clear.
Turning, I look over my shoulder to see my daughter sitting in a chair off to the corner of the small, curtained area.
I wait for the panic to set in, but after the emotional storm I just went through since getting Bellamy’s message earlier, it never comes.
“Dad?”
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“What’s going on?” Bellamy’s face shows her shock at seeing me rushing into the room to kiss her best friend.
“This isn’t how we wanted you to find out,” I say. “Tomorrow. Dinner, we were going to tell you at dinner.”
“Tell me what, exactly?”
Reaching down, I gently take Amanda’s hand in mine. “That we’re seeing each other.”
Bellamy’s mouth falls open as she tries to process what I’m telling her. “Seeing each other?” She glances from me to Amanda and back again. “You’re dating my best friend?” she asks, her voice pitching to a higher octave.
“It’s more than that, but technically speaking, yes. We’re dating.”
“More than that?” Bellamy echoes.
“I’m in love with her.”
Amanda gasps. “What?” she breathes.
I turn my attention to her. “I love you,” I tell her. Bending, I press my lips to her forehead. When I pull back, there are tears glistening in her eyes. “Don’t cry, baby. Are you hurting? Do I need to get a doctor?” I turn toward Bellamy. “Should we get the doctor?”
“I’m okay,” Amanda says softly.
“Mandy, you passed out. That’s not okay.”
“Mandy?” Bellamy asks. “How long?” Her voice is bland, void of emotion, not giving me even a small idea of how she’s feeling about this.
“A few months, but not really,” I tell her. “It just kind of gradually happened, and we couldn’t stop it.” It’s the truth. We tried. We knew what was at stake, and we still couldn’t stay away from one another.
“So, what? You’ve been lying to me this entire time?”
“He didn’t want to lie to you,” Amanda speaks up. “I asked him if we could keep it between us until we knew if what we had was more. I was afraid of losing you,” Amanda says, her voice cracking.
“Right.” Bellamy laughs humorlessly. “You were afraid of losing me, but that didn’t stop you from fucking my dad.”
“It’s not like that,” I defend.
“Sure. Sure.” Bellamy nods.
“Bellamy, please,” Amanda cries.
“Whatever hate you have, give it to me. Not to her. She’s lying in a fucking hospital bed.
I know this is a shock to you. Hell, it was a shock to us, but the fact still remains that I’m in love with her.
I tried my hardest to fight it, but Bellamy, I’ve never felt like this before. Not even with your mother.”
“I just got you back. Things were good, and now this?” She wipes at the tears falling unchecked over her cheeks. “I can’t do this.” She shakes her head as she turns to leave.
“Where are you going? You’re upset. You can’t drive.” I’m torn because I want to take care of her, but I don’t want to leave Amanda either.