by Adele Hart
“Ethan…” she says, then she stops herself.
“What? Tell me.” My heart stills, wondering if she doesn’t feel the same way about me that I do her.
“Good luck out there. Be safe, okay?”
"Don't worry about me. I'm fast as hell, and I know how to keep my head up."
“I know.”
“You believe me, don’t you? That I’m going to get you out of there? That we’re going to get married?”
“I believe that you want to do both of those things.”
My heart sinks in my chest. “But…”
“But, if for some reason things don’t work out the way you want, it’s okay. I don’t want to hold you to some late night promises if your life is heading in another direction that takes you away from me.”
“Jessica, don’t say that. I told you, I’m doing this for us.”
“I know. Just, live your dream, okay? I’ll be here waiting,” she says, clearly trying not to cry. “I have to go. My shift starts in a few minutes.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
When I hang up the phone, I stare at it for a minute, replaying the conversation in my mind. I know what she's thinking. She thinks I'm through with her and the fact that I can't rush all the way up to Maine to prove her wrong is almost going to kill me. I rub my hand through my hair, praying I'm not trading my dream of being with Jessica for my dream of playing football.
Nine
Jess
I get off the phone and rush to my bedroom, then shut the door and throw myself on my bed. I sob into my pillow, glad that no one is home to hear me. I lied to Ethan. I don’t have to work today. I just couldn’t hold on any longer without falling apart.
I’ve been so desperate to hear his voice, so desperate to hear him say he’s sending for me, and now that he can’t, it feels like my entire world is crashing down around my ears. I haven’t told anybody about the baby, not even my sister. I can’t bring myself to admit the truth, not now that he’s postponing everything. I’ve never felt this alone in my life.
If only I were leaving to be with him, then I’d be able to show my mom that I’m not the slutty fool that she thinks I am. I would have left without a word to her and then called in a few months, after we we’re married to tell her about the baby. But now…I don’t know what to do.
I cry until I fall asleep and when I wake up, it's dark outside, and I can hear Ben watching TV downstairs and my mom making dinner. I get up and go to the bathroom as quietly as I can to wash my face. When I look in the mirror, the girl staring back at me has obviously been crying. She's all blotchy and bloated, and I hate her for being weak.
I need to get out of here before I start to show, even if I'm not going to be with Ethan for a while. There's no law that says I have to live here in this tiny little town where there is nothing for me but serving other people.
Then it hits me all at once—my mom's Auntie Karen in Florida. I could go live with her. She's always hated how my mom treated us and she told me to come stay with her anytime I want. She won't judge me for getting pregnant. She'll help me until I can get my feet under me. Until Ethan and I can be together.
I splash my face with cold water and prepare myself to go down to dinner as though nothing is different. But everything is. I have a plan. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be gone.
It's a forty-two-hour bus ride from Maine to Florida, and the ticket will wipe out half of my savings since I have to give most of what I earn to my mom to help with the mortgage and bills. I pay the woman at the counter and pray that I can get on the bus without anyone I know seeing me.
I left a letter for Carla and Ben to say goodbye. She’ll find it tonight when she pulls back her sheets to climb into bed. As much as I hate to run without a proper goodbye, I couldn’t risk my mother finding out. She would have found a way to keep me there so I could keep working.
Settling myself into a window seat, I pull my ballcap down low on my head and bury my face in a book until we leave town. The bus is nearly empty as we make our way to the next city to pick up more passengers. Nervous knots twist my stomach when I think about what I'm doing. I only hope my Auntie Karen meant it when she said to come stay, because there's no turning back now.
“Wake up, young lady, we’re here.” I open my eyes to see the driver smiling down at me.
Sitting up, I rub my eyes and nod. “We’re in Florida?”
“Yes, ma’am. Now go get yourself some sun.” He says as he gestures for me to follow him. “You look like you need it.”
My body aches from sitting up for so long and from all the jostling, but I'm here. I'm really here. I won't have to face the grey winter of Maine. I won't have to face my mother's wrath when I start to show.
Stepping down off the bus, I feel the heat of the sun on my skin, and I smile. I'm free. I'm safe. And soon, I'll be somewhere that will feel like a real home.
“Jess!” Auntie Karen calls to me. I managed to get a hold of her yesterday afternoon and told her I was on my way. She was so thrilled, she cried.
She rushes over to me, her long, bright paisley kaftan flowing behind her, and wraps me in her arms. No one hugs like Aunt Karen. She squeezes you so tight and for so long that you smell like White Shoulders perfume for days. I hug her back, tears of relief filling my eyes.
When she pulls back, she gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek, and I know that I'll have bright orangey-red lip marks to scrub off later. But I don't even care.
“What took you so long?” she asks.
“It’s really far from here to Maine.”
“I mean, what took you so long to get the hell out of there.” She grins up at me and pats my cheeks with both hands.
“Lack of courage.”
Her eyes narrow as she looks me up and down, her eyes landing on my belly. “Nope, that’s not it. You’ve got a big reason to get away, don’t you?”
My entire face goes flush, and I nod. "This is just temporary. He really loves me, and we're going to be together. We just can't for a while."
A look of understanding crosses her face, and I suddenly feel so stupid saying that out loud. She's never going to believe it. When I say it out loud, I barely believe it. But I know how it felt when we were together. He loves me. I just have to be patient and trust him.
“Come on, let’s get you home so you can shower and I can feed you. I’ve been cooking non-stop since you called.”
I pick up my one suitcase and sling my backpack over my shoulder, then we link arms and head toward her big, old bright green Cadillac.
It’s been three days since I arrived and I haven’t been able to reach Ethan. His cell phone rings once, then the voicemail picks up. I’ve left two messages to tell him where I am and give him my aunt’s phone number, but I haven’t heard back. The last time, I even told him I had something important that he needed to know. Now, I’m regretting that because he may have heard it and gotten scared off.
I log onto my aunt’s computer to see where the Cardinals are playing next.
The first thing that comes up on their website is an article on the newest rookie, Ethan Harris. A picture of him in his uniform comes up immediately. First, I notice his gorgeous smile—he’s so perfect that it almost takes my breath away. Then I see he's in the red and white uniform and he looks like a real pro football player, which I guess he is. Then I notice the two cheerleaders flanking him on either side. He's got his arms behind their backs, and I can't see exactly how far down his hands are on their tiny, perfect bodies. "Shit," I mutter.
A wave of nausea comes over me, and I rush to the bathroom just in time to lose my lunch. By the time I'm done, I'm covered in a cold sweat and feel weak. I get up and clean myself up, then brush my teeth. Why hasn't he called me back?
Aunt Karen knocks gently at the door of the bathroom. “You okay, sweetie?”
I open it and nod slowly, knowing I look as bad as I feel. “Yeah. Just a little morning sickness, I guess.”
"Come sit. I'll make you some ginger tea," she says. When we reach the kitchen, I see Ethan smiling up at me from the screen. "Is that your man?"
I nod and slump down in my chair.
“Don’t worry about those girls. That’s part of his job.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“Has he called you back yet?” She says as she pours water into the kettle.
I shake my head, unable to voice the truth.
“Listen, sweetie, on the off-chance he doesn’t, you can stay here for as long as you want. I can help you raise the baby. I may not move as fast as I used to, but I’ve got plenty of space and lots of love to go around.”
“Thanks, Auntie Karen,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes. “I’ve been thinking I shouldn’t tell him about the baby unless I know for sure that he loves me. I don’t want him to get saddled into to marriage with someone he may not…”
Aunt Karen crosses the room and kisses me on the forehead. "Don't think about that. For now, take it one day at a time, but know that you'll always have a home with me."
Ten
Ethan
“Brody, are you sure you haven’t seen my cell phone?” I stand in the doorway of his room looking around the mess for my phone. “I haven’t seen it for days now.”
"Your phone?" He scratches his head, looking very sleepy even though it's almost eleven in the morning. "Yeah, I borrowed it the other day when I couldn't find mine. I gave it back to you though, didn't I?"
Fucker. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to handle living with him. “No, you didn’t.”
"Oh, sorry, dude. Then, I may have left it at that chick's place. You know the redhead with the huge tits. I had to make a quick getaway. Turns out she's married." He rolls over, and it's all I can do not to kick his lazy ass out of bed.
I sigh and clench my jaw. “That’s really shitty, man. I need you to go get it for me.”
He sits up and yawns. "That's probably not going to happen. I was really drunk when I went there, so I don't actually know where she lives. I'll get you a new phone, though."
“I need that one. All my contacts are in it. And what if someone’s been trying to leave me a message?” I’m so mad I could throttle Brody right now.
“They’ll try back again. Relax. It’s not the end of the world or something.”
“You know what? Just find my fucking phone. I need it back. Not a replacement,” I say as I walk out of his room and into the hall. “And don’t touch my shit again. And get your ass out of bed. We have to leave for practice in twenty minutes.”
Dammit. What if Jess has been trying to call?
We get to practice ten minutes late, thanks to Brody, the idiot, so the coach makes us run extra laps while the other guys get a water break. It's hotter than hell outside and by the time practice ends, I'm drenched with sweat and in a pretty lousy mood.
A camera crew is waiting on the sidelines, and one of the reporters stops me. "Ethan, can I get a few minutes of your time?"
“Sure,” I say with a small smile.
“How do you feel about starting this Sunday?”
"Pretty great. I like our chances against Green Bay. We've got a solid offense, and we're ready to take them on." I nod and wipe the sweat from my face with the back of my hand.
“I’m sure your fans will love to hear that. Are you nervous about your first official game?” he asks, then thrusts the mic at me.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, but honestly, I feel ready." And I feel cheesy talking into the camera like this.
“Good for you. What’s going to be the secret to your success?”
“I just have to stay focused, keep my eye on the prize, and I know I’ll come up a winner.”
“So, Coach Thompson’s ‘no girls for rookies’ rule won’t be a problem for you, then?”
“Definitely not. I’m all about focus.” I shake my head, hoping I look convincing to everyone watching—except for one person, that is.
Eleven
Jess
I shut the TV off and sit alone in the dark living room for a minute. Aunt Karen has gone to bed, and now I'm wishing I had, too. Watching Ethan's interview has made my gut ache. He looks so unbelievably handsome, but more than that, it's what he said that rocked my world. He needs to focus. He can't afford any distractions right now, and what would be more distracting than finding out he's going to be a father?
I grip the pillow on my lap and think of all the scenarios, trying to wrap my head around reality. Ethan doesn't want me. If he did, he would have called me back by now. There's no way he didn't get my messages. He just doesn't know how to let me down easy after everything he promised.
He's changed his mind, plain and simple. He has his shot at his dream, and he's forgotten all about the girl from the docks.
I get up and walk to my room, letting silent tears slide down my cheeks. I can't tell him about the baby. Not now, probably not ever. If he doesn't want me, I sure as hell am not going to trap him into being with me for the sake of our child. No, I'm better off without him. I'll have the baby, and Aunt Karen will stand by me and help me out through all of it.
I’ll pick myself up, dust myself off, and get a good education so I can support myself and my child. And hopefully, just maybe, I’ll be able to forget all about Ethan Harris. I rub my hand on my tummy, knowing that the new life growing inside me will never allow me to forget him. Not even for a single day.
Twelve
Ethan - Two Years Later
Ethan – Two Years Later
"Ethan! How's your leg?"
"Ethan, who's starting in tonight's game?"
"Ethan, are you and Lacey Riveria back on again?"
I try to shut out the sounds of the reporters as I walk from the parking lot to the brand-new stadium in Miami. I tuck my hat down and keep moving, pretending I don’t hear them, especially the part about the singer, Lacey Riveria, who the media mistakenly thinks I’m dating.
We were at a party together a few weeks ago, and she tweeted a photo of us together. The truth is, she walked up to me and just took the picture without even asking. I was kind of flattered, but now that the rumor mill has got going, I'm pretty pissed.
Lacey is not my type at all. She’s way overdone—fake everything from lips to breasts to butt. Plus, she’s dumb as all hell. Plus, she’s not Jess.
The thought of Jess makes my gut ache. I know I have to forget her but I can’t. It’s like I left my heart with her and I have to see her again to get it back, even though she dumped me like last week’s garbage.
I left messages at her house for months after I first moved to Arizona, but she never returned my calls. Her mom told me that she wasn't living there anymore. At first, I thought it was a lie until I called and her nephew answered. He told me the same thing. I don't know much about kids, but I don't think that ones as small as him are great at lying. She moved and didn't want me to know where. So, I guess that what I thought we had didn't mean much to her after all.
I push thoughts of Jessica out of my head as I walk the long hall to the team’s dressing room. One night in Miami, then we fly back home in the morning to prepare for next weekend’s game. I’m not complaining. I love my life. I’m living most guys’ fantasy. I just signed one of the biggest contracts in pro-football history. I can pretty much have any woman I want. The only problem is I don’t want any of them. And the one I do want, I can’t find anywhere. And even if I did find her, it’s not like she’d care.
The team’s trainer, Gary, meets me when I walk in the room. “How’s the quad?”
“It’s not bad. A bit stiff this morning.”
"Figured as much, so I booked a massage for you. The therapist is waiting in the training room." He tosses a towel at me, then points to a door on the other side of the locker room. "Go see her first. I'll tell Jim you'll be late for warm-up."
I nod, dropping my bag on the bench. “Thanks.”
I strip down, then wrap the
towel around my waist and cross the room thinking of how strange it is that in a minute, I'll be naked in front of a woman I don't know. And nothing will happen other than me getting the kinks worked out of my quad. I've had so many injuries over the past two years that I've gotten used to being poked and prodded and massaged. It's funny how it becomes no big deal after a while.
When I walk in the room, it's dimly-lit, and there is calming music playing. I hear the tap running in the attached bathroom, and I call out hello.
“I’m Ethan. I’m here for work on my right quad.”
There is a long pause before the door opens and there she is, frozen where she stands, her blonde hair tucked into a messy bun.
“Jess.” My heart pounds in my chest. She looks so incredibly beautiful that my first impulse is to rush to her, pull her into my arms and kiss her. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks—the way she brushed me off like I meant nothing to her. I keep my feet rooted to the ground and try to figure out how to play this.
She grips the wall like her knees are going weak, but I'm sure it's not because she's been missing me so much that she can hardly believe I'm here. More like she wishes she had called in sick for work today so she wouldn't have to face me.
“Small world,” I say, fighting to keep any emotion out of my voice.
She gives me a slight nod. “A little too small, maybe.”
What the hell? She’s mad at me?
Jess takes a couple of steps into the room, then grabs a file off the counter. She opens it. “It says here you pulled your vastus lateralis two weeks ago?”
I stare at her for a moment, but she won't look at me. She keeps her eyes on the paper in front of her as though there's a whole lot more she'll learn from it.
