7. Saint #2
“I’ll talk to her after she’s finished with you.
” Before I could respond, our linebacker intercepted a throw from the other team, causing the crowd to erupt in cheers.
He ran towards the endzone, dodging tackles from the other team.
He scored a touchdown just as the buzzer went off, signaling the end of the last quarter.
“Let’s fucking go!” I yelled in victory. We’d won another game. We were currently the top team in our division, and I didn’t see us losing our spot anytime soon. As I was following the team into the tunnel to the locker room, I was stopped by an interviewer.
“Good to see you, Simmons. When can we expect you back on the field?” She asked, pushing her mic towards me.
“I don’t know, man, hopefully soon,” I responded, looking at the camera
“Are you worried about losing your contract?”
“Of course not, injured or not, my spot on this team is secured,” I answered a few more questions before walking away, heading into the locker room to chop it up with my teammates.
“Wassup, fellas?” I greeted, smacking hands with a few of the players.
“Wassup, Moo! Good to see you, my man.” Jason, our quarterback, said, pulling me into a hug.
“Y’all did y’all thang out there tonight. I’m proud of y’all.”
“Shit, we need you back out there. Miss Blessing been getting you right?” Rome, our wide receiver, asked. Blessing was his physical therapist last year when he suffered an injury. Now he was back on the field, better than ever.
“Hell yeah. I might be back before the playoffs.” I assured him. We spent the next few minutes catching up before I decided to leave.
“Thanks, Kam,” I said before stepping out of the backseat of the Yukon.
I dapped him up. “I’ll see you tomorrow.
” Kam was my personal driver and bodyguard.
Wherever I go, he’s always somewhere close behind.
I used my thumbprint to unlock the front door and headed inside.
The house was completely dark aside from the light above the kitchen sink.
After removing my shoes, I made my way into the living room to lie across the couch.
Being alone in this big ass house got lonely most nights.
Mariah only stayed one or two nights a week.
It seemed like our relationship was going backwards instead of progressing.
I hadn’t heard from her since she sent a text letting me know she’d made it to Brindleton Bay safely.
I’d sent her a few texts throughout the day, and she had yet to respond to them.
I wasn’t going to chase her. If things didn’t change, I had no choice but to end things and move on with my life.
I was so deep into my binge-watch of Criminal Minds that I didn’t notice the constant buzzing of my phone on the coffee table.
I grabbed my buzzing phone, looking at the slew of Instagram notifications.
I used my face to unlock my phone and then opened the app.
I was being tagged in a video on Blessing’s page.
She had posted a video of our sessions from this past month, and it had started going viral.
A smile spread across my face as I read the comments.
@princessjaz25_: their chemistry is out of this world.
@jbarnes998: damn I wouldn’t be able to control myself around an ass that phat.
@arianagreene: his girlfriend @riahhampton1 is strong af.
@wr.rome: good shit @saintsims95
@minabina.112: the way he looks at her >>>> @saintsims95 you need that?
Before I could read another comment, Mariah’s picture popped up on the screen. I answered the call, placing her on speaker. “Glad to see you’re alive,” I said, scoffing.
“Why the fuck is she posting you?”
“Mariah.. are you serious? I haven’t heard from you in two days, and that’s the first thing you say?”
“Saint save it. Answer my question? This is exactly why I don’t trust her around you. Do you see the comments? All of a sudden, you have all this chemistry with her after you ban me from coming to your sessions.”
“Bruh, you know why you’re not allowed at my sessions anymore. You’re trippin over her posting our progress. That’s her fucking job. What you being insecure for? That girl ain’t worried about me. She comes here, does her job, and goes home. Relax.”
“No Saint! This is fucking embarrassing. I had to turn my tags off. Bitches are asking me if I can fight!” She shouted. I sighed, running a hand across my face.
“Look, Mariah, I don’t know what you want me to do. You’re barely here. You ignore my messages. Shit, you barely even support me. So wassup? What we doin? Am I wasting my time?”
”Where is this coming from, Saint? You see the comments on that video, now you’re questioning our relationship?”
I sighed, tugging at my beard. “Mariah, this ain’t got shit to do with the video. I don’t think we should be having this conversation over the phone. I can come out there tonight so we can talk in person.”
The line fell silent before three beeps signaled the end of the call. I stared at the phone in disbelief. Instead of allowing her to ruin my night, I turned my attention back to the TV. We’d have this conversation when she returns from her trip.
There was no point in fighting for this relationship if I was the only one trying. It was funny how she’d been ignoring me ‘til she saw that post on social media. I wasn’t going to kiss her ass. If she didn’t want this anymore, neither did I.