Chapter 4
Courtney
The ambient noise of the plane’s engine whirled in my ears as I stared unfocused out the small oval window. A shadow hung
over this momentous accomplishment . . . I hadn’t heard a peep from Sasha since I’d left. I had tried to not let it bother
me that she’d left me on read when I’d texted her when we’d landed and again after I’d gotten settled at the hotel.
Normally before away games she’d send me a good luck message with the kiss emoji, and when that didn’t come, I’d put it out
of my mind because I had to focus. The team needed me to be completely present when I stepped onto the court. But now . . .
her lack of contact—her deliberate lack of contact—it gnawed at me.
“Wha . . .” An elbow to my side pulled me from my thoughts. I turned, scowling at Tina. “Why the hell you assaulting me?”
“Because I’ve been talking to your spacey ass and you ain’t respond. What’s up with you? You been in a mood since . . .”
“I’m good.” I cut her off, knowing what she was going to say. Closing the shade on the window, I fully rested back against my seat. “Just the tired setting in, ya know. Long season. Worth it, ultimate payoff, but . . . just tired.”
She leaned back and stared at me for a long while, then glanced around and I did the same. Some of the players were knocked
out, eye masks, neck pillows, headphones, out-to-the-world knocked out. Others were watching movies or other-wise entertained.
“Ah,” she said finally. “You just don’t wanna talk about it right now. That’s cool.”
“What the fuck . . . what I just say?”
She wore a slick smile, and I knew what she was playin’ at. “Some bullshit,” she replied with a laugh. “But like I said, that’s
cool. Anyway, you think we gettin’ a parade? I’ve always wanted to be in a parade.” She grinned wide, looking like a kid on
Christmas.
Her annoying enthusiasm at least brought a smile to my face. “They better since they damn near shut down the city when the
Braves won the World Series. Our accomplishment is just as deserving. Hell, probably more.”
“You ain’t wrong.” She started singing “we’re getting a parade” and dancing in her seat.
Those around us joined in and soon it became a whole thing, with the energy getting amped just as it had been the night before.
Hell, even the flight attendants were smiling and dancing to the tune. My mood couldn’t remain sour with so much positivity
surrounding me. After a couple of playful shoves from Tina, I too took part.
For the remainder of the flight I was able to keep my other warring emotions under wraps.
Part of me was even willing to let her lack of contact go because I knew she could be petty at times when her feelings were hurt.
I had missed her and wished she’d been there.
I had wanted to share that moment with her.
Hell, if we had lost, I probably would have wanted her there to hold me in my disappointment.
I could admit I fucked up in telling her no this time.
But she couldn’t put it aside at all? No answer to my calls? Or return of my messages? That was taking petty to a new level
considering the situation. And I truly couldn’t believe she’d take it this far.
As the bus approached the arena, a few of the ladies leaned forward in their seats, glancing out the windows. Instead of going
to the back gate like usual, I noticed we were heading to the front where a small crowd awaited. A smile formed seeing our
fans out, cheering, holding signs, being here to welcome and support us for our win. There were even several TV station vans
parked nearby with reporters recording our arrival.
After disembarking, I saw some of my teammates hugging their family members; a few were already signing autographs. I scanned
the smaller crowd in front of the barricade and didn’t see Sasha. The knife to the heart that’d hit me after the game stabbed
at me again, twisting the wound wider so I was left feeling cold and empty.
How could she not be here?
There was being petty for being hurt, but this . . . this was fucking downright vindictive.
I didn’t have time to sit in the anger, as I was engulfed in a tight hug.
“Congrats, Courtney,” Doc’s sister Jah squealed while jumping up and down without releasing her hold on me.
I returned her warm, enthusiastic embrace, letting her joy burn away some of the bitterness threating to swallow me whole.
“Thanks, Jah . . . but didn’t you have a baby like two days ago? Shouldn’t you still be in the hospital, or on bed rest, or
something?”
She laughed and gave me one last squeeze before letting me go. “Four days, and they boot you from the hospital after like forty-eight hours for a ‘standard’ birth. As if there is anything standard about pushing a watermelon out a pee hole, let’s be real.”
I clenched at her words and shuddered at the thought. “Even more reason to be taking it slow.”
Jah linked her arm in mine and started us toward where her sister and Shae stood signing some autographs, until a couple of
fans yelled out my name, getting my attention. I stopped to sign the items thrust at me, and posed for a few pictures. They
shouted congrats, and good-jobs, and I-love-yous. It felt good, the appreciation, being adored like this. To be recognized
for our hard work over the years.
They’d all taken time out of their day, possibly time off work to be here for us. Strangers cared more. And if I noticed Sasha’s
absence, my friends would as well, and questions would be asked. For now, I would soak up this moment. As I moved to the next
set of fans waiting, I stopped when something . . . rather, someone . . . caught my eye.
Sasha. Laughing, smiling, and hugging up on Tina and Shannon. Along with her friend Denise, who was putting herself front
and center in every shot aimed in their direction.
Sasha was here. But how was I not the first person she ran to?
I tried to refocus and give my full attention to the people in front of me, but I couldn’t stop casting glances, waiting for
her to attempt to make her way to me. But she didn’t.
The knife twisted again.
After a few more interactions with fans, I headed toward my wife, who still hadn’t bothered to look my way.
What the actual fuck? The goodwill I had gained disintegrated into tiny particles of hurt, frustration, and complete annoyance.
Blowing out a slow breath, I did my best not to roll my eyes as Denise approached. It wasn’t necessary that I like all of
Sasha’s friends, but this one . . . she always had something to say, and very rarely was any of it good. Little snide comments
that I knew were meant to get under my skin, especially when she enabled the worst of Sasha’s attitudes. I did my best to
keep my time around her limited, so for Sasha to bring her—it was certainly a deliberate choice.
I took in Denise’s appearance. The freshly done knotless goddess braids were a two-tone mix of black and light brown. She
was always dressed for maximum attention, something she and Sasha had in common. Denise wore a dark blue halter crop top with
an open cutout in the middle, giving a front and center view of her cleavage and underboob tattoo that was inspired by the
one Rihanna had. It was paired with cutoff jean shorts and I was sure, should she turn around, she’d have some cheek showing.
“Hey, Courtney,” Denise said, stretching out the greeting. She crossed her arm and pulled her glossy brown lips to the side
in a smug smirk. “Congrats, I guess.”
She guessed? No, nope, wasn’t going to take what was obvious bait from her. “Thanks.”
I clipped out the word then moved around her to make my way to Sasha. I slid my hand along her lower back and bent to whisper
near her ear. “So, you just not gonna speak?”
She licked her lips and cut her eyes to the side to give me a quick glance. “I was congratulating the team.”
“But not your wife?” My response was louder than I intended. A few of the players around looked in our direction before quickly
averting their gazes.
She turned to face me, planting her hands on her hips. “Oh, now you want my support.” As she went to walk off, I grabbed her wrist. We stared at each other for a while, the air around us thickening with increasing tension.
I ground my teeth together and forced a hard exhale through my nose. I started to speak, but Shae walked over, placing a hand
on my arm. “Yo, need you over here for a quick group shot for the newspeople.”
It was then that I remembered where I was, and how many eyes were watching. A camera crew, fans with their phones all out . . .
and they were all pointed toward us. Every moment could and usually was captured these days. The worse it was, the better
for social media. I’d already dealt with one too many highlight reels featuring me and Sasha in one of our not-so-great moments.
Making a scene was not advisable right now.
“Yeah, g’on leave me for your little team. Ain’t nothing I ain’t used to.”
Her hand slipped from my grasp as Shae pushed me in the direction of the rest of the players. Sasha’s dismissiveness was like
taking everything that was important to me, everything that I’d worked for all these years, crumbling it up like a piece of
discarded paper and tossing it aside.
I had to force my way through the pictures and quick interviews while fighting back the seething burning through my veins.
I was grateful when Coach called for a wrap-up then ushered us into the building, allowing only family to come with us. I
didn’t bother to look for Sasha or her friend. It took everything in me to not go off as it was, the mounting grief building
inside me like a pressure cooker.
“So, what was that all about?” Shae asked, falling into step with me.
“Nothin’.”
“That felt like it was definitely something.”
I cut my eyes to her and shook my head. “Sasha being Sasha,” I replied with a heavy sigh.
She lightly grabbed my arm, stopping our forward motion. “You sure? Because I’ve been around y’all when in the downs and that
felt different, even to me.”
I rubbed at the spot between my brows. What I’d told Tina on the plane wasn’t completely off. I was tired. I was weighed down
from handling it all, and after Sasha’s latest stunt I was seriously wondering what I was doing it all for.
I could always excuse her other tantrums because at the end of the day I truly believed she cared, and we worked. It wasn’t
perfect, hell, nothing was, but I’d made a commitment and that meant something. Now that belief was on shaky ground. Doc,
Jah, and Tina strolled up.
Doc darted her attention between me and Shae. “Y’all good?”
“Yeah, just ready for a long hot shower and a good night’s sleep in my own bed,” I answered.
Three of the four women probably knew I was full of shit, but none of them pushed me, which I was thankful for. And no one
questioned the missing elephant in the room: Where was Sasha?
Vuitton barked and turned in circles as I walked up the stairs from the garage. “At least you’re happy to see me.” I glanced
at the microwave clock then back down at the little animal who sat staring up at me. “Ah . . . not so much happy to see me,
just someone with opposable thumbs that can feed you.”
I opened the door to let him out since I wasn’t sure how long he’d been here alone, then began fixing food he probably wasn’t
even going to eat since Sasha wasn’t here to watch him do it. I had no interest in being his audience. As expected, he looked
at his bowl for a moment, then was hot on my heels when I exited the kitchen, heading upstairs.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I dropped my duffel at the entry to my bedroom, taking in the sight before me.
There were bags everywhere. I was gone three days, and it looked like she’d bought out fucking Phipps Plaza. She couldn’t
call, text, or hell, even say anything not covered in snark today, but she had no problem spending my fucking money. Vuitton
jumped at my ankles, whimpering for attention.
I bent to pick him up before taking a seat on the bed as I stroked his soft fur. “She’s even neglecting you, just expecting
me to take care of it considering she didn’t even bring her ass home.”
He looked up at me as if he understood then hopped out of my arms, walked over to her side of the bed, and sniffed around
before curling up next to her pillow. I let out a long sigh as I looked around the room again. A nice long hot shower would
hopefully help release some of the tension that continued to crank tighter and tighter.