The Game Changer: A Novel

by Sterling, J.

  I turned my back to him, storming into our bedroom. “That’s fucking ridiculous! This is your life we’re talking about! And my life. These are horrible lies about you and about me. We can’t just sit here and agree with some statement you didn’t even make.”

  He followed right behind me. “What do you want to do? Make our own statement?”

  I grabbed my running shoes from the closet. “I have to get the fuck out of here.” The heat spread quickly throughout my entire body as my temper flared beyond control.

  “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

  “You’re not the only one with a temper, Jack. Just because I don’t go around putting my fist in people’s faces doesn’t mean I don’t lose my shit!”

  “Running away isn’t really showing you have a temper. It just shows you have…” he paused, “legs.”

  I laced up my gym shoes. “Just leave me alone.”

  “See? Legs for running away instead of staying here and talking it out!” he yelled, his voice frustrated.

  “I can’t think clearly when I’m around you. I need to be away from you.” His eyes. His face. They all distracted me from my internal thoughts.

  I slammed the door and walked down the stairs to our gym, thankful it was empty. I turned on a treadmill before plugging into my iPod. The music of Imagine Dragons blasted in my ears as I started running faster and faster, all the frustration from the last few months pouring out in beads of sweat across my forehead. Wishing I could stomp out all the blog posts, newspaper articles, gossip columns, message board threads, and Chrystle from my memory with each step, I slammed my feet against the moving surface.

  After an hour of running on pure adrenaline, nothing changed. I didn’t feel better, relieved, or calmed. The same pressures and hurt remained. I realized this was something I could no longer ignore.

  I wasn’t happy.

  The past four months had helped dissolve my strength into a puddle of self-doubt and misery. Being with Jack meant accepting all the other things that came with it, and I hated it. My head pounded as I walked back into our apartment. Ignoring Jack, I moved past him and into the shower. He tried to follow me, but I closed and locked the door. I took my time, hoping the hot water would wash away my doubts, but nothing helped. Afterward, I towel dried my hair before emerging with another towel wrapped around my body.

  Jack sat on our bed, watching my every move as I quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a tank top.

  “I didn’t sign up for this, Jack.” I snapped my eyes shut, willing the online pictures and tabloid article to disappear from my mind.

  “You didn’t sign up for what exactly?” he asked cautiously, his head tilting to one side.

  I sighed. “I didn’t sign up for this life. This constant invasion of privacy… this scrutiny. This judgment. People get to say and write whatever they want about me, and I just have to sit here and take it. I can’t deal with it anymore.”

  The tears started to fall, and I didn’t bother to stop them. “Did you know that my pictures are plastered all over websites where people get to vote on whether or not they think I’m hot enough for you?” I screamed through my frustration.

  Logically I knew it wasn’t Jack’s fault, but my embarrassment overruled all logic at the moment. “Do you know how horrible that feels? To be judged on my looks by a bunch of fucking strangers? Heaven forbid I’m actually a good person who loves her boyfriend and works hard and treats people well. But that doesn’t count. None of that matters!”

  I threw my hands out, shaking my head. “It’s all about what I wear and how my hair looks and how much weight I need to lose. Why do people think it’s OK to tear apart the way I look? Did you know there’s an entire thread on the baseball website dedicated to hating me? Not liking me, but hating me. What the hell did I even do to anyone?”

  “What? Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he asked. “I’ll have administration get that shit taken down right now! I will not have any threads about you on a baseball website. Unless it’s good stuff.” He forced a small smile, his dimples barely showing.

  “I’ve been called every name in the book. Whore, slut, gold digger, ugly, fat, bitch, cunt, tramp, cleat chaser… and I can’t fucking take it, Jack. I don’t know how anyone does.”

  “What are you saying, Kitten?” He took two steps toward me, and I instinctively stepped back.

  “I don’t know what I’m saying.” My heart battered against my chest as I denied the truth. I knew exactly what I was saying… I just apparently couldn’t form the actual words.

  He started nervously pacing. In all honesty, my nerves even overwhelmed me in that moment. “Don’t do anything stupid, Cass. You know we’re no good without each other.”

  I nodded my head as more tears escaped. “I’m not sure we’re any good with each other either.”

  “You don’t mean that. You’re just upset.” Jack’s voice shook as he shoved his hands into his front pockets. When I didn’t respond, he begged, “Don’t do this. Don’t you dare give up on us.”

  “I feel like I’m losing myself.” I turned away, unable to bear the look in his eyes. “Being in this relationship with you is completely fucking with me,” I admitted, the tears falling down my cheeks without mercy. Guilt rushed through me as my words spilled out. I never intended to admit all of this to him during the baseball season. I wanted to be strong enough to get through it on my own, to talk to him when the season ended, but I couldn’t take any more. My insides had wound up so tight I thought they might shatter. Chrystle’s accusatory article was the last straw.

  Jack stepped closer, his arms resting on my shoulders as he turned me toward him. “You don’t get to quit,” he said, reaching for my chin with shaky hands. “You don’t get to walk away from this.”

  I wanted to throw up. My feelings contorted inside of me, the conflict raging once again. Part of me wanted to bolt as quickly as I could from everything Jack Carter, while the rest of me wanted to tangle myself up in his arms and never let go.

  “I need to figure out how to be with you and still keep my sanity. I feel like a crazed lunatic. Like I have absolutely no control over my life. I can’t keep living like this.” I sobbed until my vision blurred.

  He led me toward our couch, pulling me down with him as I cried into his chest. How had I become so twisted up and confused? I knew I loved Jack, but I wasn’t sure I could be with him like this any longer. I pulled away from his grip, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand as he returned to the view, as gorgeous as ever.

  He cupped my cheek, moisture filling his dark eyes. “I don’t want to be here without you. We can fix this. But we can’t fix it if you walk away. I can’t make us work by myself.”

  “I just need to find some sort of balance. Between your work and my work and all the pressure that comes along with it—” I stopped as I tried to gather my thoughts. “It’s just too much. I need to get myself together. I’m falling apart here.”

  He leaned his head into his hands, his fingers tugging at his dark hair. I watched his chest rise and fall, his head shaking before he turned to look at me. “Fine,” he started with a ragged breath. “Get yourself together, then. But don’t you fucking quit on me. After everything we’ve been through, please don’t let this break us.”

  Tears ran down my cheeks with his words. I loved Jack, but this was about me. Loving Jack put my own self-worth at risk. A girl could only take so much bashing and criticism from so many fronts until her self-esteem started to take a nosedive. And that wasn’t healthy for either of us.

  “I’m going to take a few days off from work and go stay with Melissa.” The words flew from my lips effortlessly. I hadn’t even talked to Melissa, but I knew she would welcome me.

  He lowered his head, the look of defeat replacing any hope he once had. “OK, Kitten. You go.”

  I nodded, reaching for my cell phone and dialing Matteo’s number. “Hi, Matteo, it’s Cassie. Can you get me to JFK as soon as possible, or a
re you busy?”

  Matteo asked me to hold for a moment while he rearranged his schedule with another driver. I waited, avoiding all eye contact with Jack. Matteo came back on the line, informing me that he’d pick me up in twenty minutes and he’d call me when he was downstairs. I thanked him before I ended the call and turned the ringer back on.

  Whether I wanted to or not, it was time to pack.

  I sensed Jack watching me from the doorway of the bedroom we shared as I tossed pieces of clothing into my open suitcase. Deliberately, I forced myself not to look at him. He could take the broken parts of me and shatter them even further. If I looked at him, I’d question everything. He could make me stay, and I desperately needed to go. After adding two more pairs of shoes, I zipped up the suitcase and lifted it from the bed.

  “Let me help you,” he offered from behind me, his breath gliding across my back.

  “It’s fine. I have it,” I said tightly, refusing to face him.

  “How long will you be gone?” he asked, his tone desolate.

  I shrugged, unsure of my actual plans. “I don’t know. A few days. A week, maybe. I’ll text you,” I offered with a glance in his direction.

  Jack’s face turned sullen as the color drained instantly from his cheeks. He reached for me, his fingers tightening around my wrist, stopping all forward movement. “You are coming back. Right, Kitten?” A look of powerlessness covered his face.

  My stomach dropped to my feet with his question. I took a few short breaths before responding, “Yes, Jack. I’m coming back.”

  It wasn’t a lie, but the truth was almost as painful. Of course I would come back, but I wasn’t sure what I’d be coming back to. “I have a job here.”

  His eyebrows pinched together, tears filling his eyes as he let go of my arm. My phone rang, breaking the sorrow-filled heaviness in the room. “Hi, Matteo. OK, I’ll be right down.”

  “I need to go.” I leaned toward Jack and planted a soft kiss on his cheek before turning to walk away.

  He gripped my wrist from behind and yanked me around to face him. “Get over here,” he said roughly as he pulled my body effortlessly into his. Before I could situate my arms, his were wrapped around me, pulling me tight against his heaving chest.

  Oh my God, he’s crying.

  “I love you more than anything. You need to know that before you walk out that door.” The warmth of his breath fluttered against my skin. My eyes met his, and the tears that rolled down his cheeks caused my heart to shatter.

  “I love you too.” My current dysfunction had nothing to do with my feelings for Jack. I loved him more than I ever thought possible. But sometimes love wasn’t enough, and in order to be with him forever, I needed to make sure I could handle whatever came my way.

  “I’ll do anything to make you happy. Anything, Kitten. You just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. You want to file a lawsuit against Chrystle, I’ll start the paperwork tomorrow. You want me to quit baseball? I’ll stop playing.”

  It pained me to hear his voice sounding this desperate, this needy. “That’s not what I want,” I choked out, my jagged heart beating out painfully piercing beats. “Right now I just need some space.”

  He peeled his arms from my body, and I instantly craved their attention again, but refused to give in. “OK. Space,” he breathed out in response, his cheeks tearstained. “But not forever. I won’t let you quit on us. I know this is all my fault. One fucking mistake that never goes away. I’m so sorry about all of it.”

  “I know you are,” I whispered. “I am too.”

  I pulled my suitcase out the front door, leaving Jack behind.

  I walked out of the elevator, noticing the gaggle of press still gathered outside our building. Seeing me, the cameras started flashing against the glass of the window as they fought over one another for the best shot. Matteo lunged through them on his way to reach me. Blocking me from view once again, he grabbed my suitcase while keeping a tight hold on my body.

  Stepping outside, I was bombarded by the press shouting their questions.

  “Where are you going, Cassie?”

  “Did you and Jack split up?”

  “Is he going back to Chrystle?”

  “Why are you leaving?”

  “Why are you crying?”

  I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs for them to shut the hell up and mind their own business. They didn’t know anything about our relationship and their stupid assumptions drove me nuts. Matteo opened up the passenger door, and I shook my head, opting for the rear seat, which had privacy glass on the windows. I watched as some of the paparazzi scattered, and I assumed they were heading for their cars so they could follow me.

  He opened the door for me and ushered me inside. “Are you OK?”

  I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I will be.”

  “Are you and Jack alright?” he asked as he pulled the car onto Second Avenue.

  Unsure of how much I wanted to confide in Matteo at the moment, I opted for the easy way out. “I’m not sure.”

  Matteo checked the rearview mirror a few times before I asked, “Are they following us?”

  “I don’t think so. I can usually tell if they’re around us because they drive like assholes, but I don’t see anyone.”

  “Good.”

  “Cassie?” His voice questioned and I simply looked in his direction. “You know I’m here if you need me.”

  I forced a polite smile. “I know. Thank you.”

  We drove the rest of the way in silence. My brain turned inside my skull, causing more confusion, questions, and pain. I closed my eyes as the sound of my cell phone beeping filtered into my ears.

  I read the text message from Jack.

  I love you. I wish there were different words that I could say, but no one’s been clever enough to invent any yet. So it’s all I’ve got. But it’s everything. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please come home soon.

  Half tempted to ask Matteo to turn the car around, I turned my phone off instead. Another text message like that, and I would go back. I’d never leave.

  And I’d probably become a shell of a person who secretly resented everything her life had become. Because the problems and issues would still remain. I needed to fix this. I needed to fix me. Before I knew it, the car screeched to a stop in front of the airline terminal. I pushed out of the backseat with the help of Matteo’s outstretched, muscular hand.

  “Come here,” he said, pulling me against his chiseled body.

  God, he smells good.

  “You’ll be OK.” He patted the length of my hair, his hands sliding down my back slowly. Matteo had never touched me like that before. I sensed deliberation in his movements, but did nothing to stop him.

  Why aren’t I stopping him?

  “I hate seeing you cry,” he whispered in my ear, before wiping my cheek with his thumb.

  Pull away, Cass.

  I didn’t move. Nerves surged through my body like waves in the ocean. Forceful and without remorse, they ebbed and flowed from my head to my toes. My knees started to shake as my heart rate quickened.

  Pull aw—

  Before I could process another thought, Matteo’s soft lips pressed against mine. I tensed quickly at first, shock and disbelief sprinting through my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, allowing the difference in his kiss and his touch to overwhelm my senses. His mouth opened and his tongue pushed up against my lips, begging for entry.

  Instantly, my eyes shot open as I pushed away from his Adonis body. I wiped his taste from my lips with the back of my hand before covering my mouth from view. My mind raced to piece together what the hell had just happened and why I’d allowed it.

  Fuck, what if someone saw that?

  I quickly scanned the area, noting the absence of prying eyes and cameras. I couldn’t be certain there wasn’t someone hiding, but it looked all clear.

  Thank the stars.

&
nbsp; “Oh God, Cassie. I’m so sorry.” His eyes widened as a look of horror crossed his face. “It broke my fucking heart to see you crying. You’re too beautiful to cry like that. I just wanted to take your tears away and make you happy.”

  I processed his words.

  I think.

  What is he saying exactly?

  I refused to move for what seemed like an eternity, but I’m sure it was only a few seconds. “Um,” I stuttered, “I… I have to go.”

  I reached into the open trunk of the car, pulling at my suitcase. “Cassie. Look at me,” Matteo said forcefully. I released my grip on my suitcase, turning to face him. “Please don’t tell Jack. I’m so sorry. I never should have done that.”

  “Then why did you?” I yelled as embarrassment and anger all competed for the gold medal in my emotional Olympics.

  His long, tanned fingers gripped the edge of his jacket. “Oh, come on. Don’t make me say it out loud.”

  “Say what out loud? What the hell are you taking about?” I didn’t have time for this. Not tonight. I was already coming apart at the seams; I couldn’t take any more shit from anyone.

  Here, Matteo, pull this frayed piece of fabric and watch me fall into particles of skin, clothing, and hair in a big heap on the ground.

  “I like you. I didn’t mean to and I know we can never be together, but fuck!” He started pacing.

  “What do you mean, you like me?” I shouted at his back. “You don’t fucking like me. We’re friends. That’s all we’ve ever been. That’s all we’ll ever be,” I insisted.

  His jaw worked under his fingertips as he continued to pace. “I know. Like I said, I fucked up. I didn’t mean to go and fall in love with you—”

  I interrupted, refusing to hear another word. “You are not in love with me! Do you hear me?” I inched closer to his body, my anger rising. “Say it!”

  He stopped pacing and shook his head. “Say what?”

  “Say you’re not in love with me! You just think you are because we spend so much time together, and you’re supposed to protect me. But you’re not in love with me. Not really. So I want you to fucking say it.” I jabbed my finger into his rock-hard chest repeatedly.