by Lea Coll
I glanced over her, seeing her smile. Her eyes were wary as if she didn’t trust my words.
I tightened my fingers on the steering wheel. I wanted to tell her I’d prove it to her but my mom and sisters weren’t flying out until Sunday. We wouldn’t be alone all weekend. I was content with the win, an evening with my closest family, and Dylan. I had plenty of time to prove to Dylan she was mine.
I reached over to hold her hand not caring if my mom or sisters saw.
While Dylan spent Friday with her family, I took Mom and my sisters to the Baltimore aquarium then the Babe Ruth Baseball Museum.
We spent the rest of the holiday weekend together. We went to D.C.’s holiday market and to see the ice sculptures at the Gaylord National Resort.
Dylan got along with my sisters, talking about shopping, the holidays, inquiring about their plans after graduation. I loved that she connected with them on their level, encouraging them to think about their future.
She fit.
Chapter Thirty-Three
DYLAN
After we drove his family to the airport Sunday night, we came back to his condo.
Reid stretched out on the couch, turning the TV on. “Lena wants to meet with me tomorrow.”
Every muscle in my body tensed. “Oh? Did she say what it was about?”
“No. She didn’t. Are you meeting with her too?”
Maybe the meeting had nothing to do with Kids Speak. Whether she planned to talk to him about it or not, it was time. “I need to talk to you about something.”
His gazed flicked from the TV to me. Whatever he saw on my face prompted him to turn off the TV. “What’s up?”
“Lena approached me last week with an idea.” My stomach was uneasy, but I was determined to get it out.
Reid smiled. “Last time she suggested we go on a blind date, look how that turned out.”
I shook my head slowly, dread building. “Yeah, this isn’t like that.”
He frowned. “What is it?”
“We were planning a holiday gala for Kids Speak in Annapolis. Lena wants to have it at the Press Box in Baltimore. She wants to use it as an opportunity to announce a spokesperson for the organization.”
He rubbed his jaw. “Do you know who she’s going to pick?”
I shifted on the couch. “She wants you.”
Reid leaned his elbows on his knees, turning his head to me, his face incredulous. “What?”
“I suggested Chase or Jonah, but she wants you.” My heart was pounding in my ears.
He stood, his feet wide, his nostrils flared. “Did you tell her about my speech issues?”
I shook my head vehemently. “No. I wouldn’t do that. She’s aware you’ve taken an interest in the organization, bonding with Quinton. Chase and Jonah are focused on other charities that are important to them. You need more publicity. This will be perfect for that.”
“Isn’t it your decision who the spokesperson is?” His words were deceptively calm, yet there was something building under the surface.
I could see it rippling in his raised shoulders, his curled fists.
I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling my heart beating rapidly. “It’s in our contract. The team can name who they want. We don’t have a say.”
He dragged his fingers through his hair.
I wished I’d insisted Lena break the news to him even though it didn’t change the truth.
“Why do I feel like you had something to do with this? This was your plan all along.”
I opened my mouth to disagree but the words wouldn’t come out. “When I won the silent auction, I called Lena to request you,” seeing his angry expression I quickly added, “because I saw something in you when I watched the videos of you giving interviews. I can’t explain it. I was attracted to you. I wanted to meet you but it wasn’t because I suspected you had a speech impediment.”
He took a few steps back, holding his arms out to the side. “You watched videos of me before we met? You specifically requested me and you’re telling me you didn’t notice a speech issue, thinking I’d make the perfect spokesman.”
I swallowed, my throat dry. I wasn’t sure he’d believe me. “I noticed you were a man of few words, you were soft spoken. You didn’t want to be there. I was attracted to you, your voice. I promise I didn’t suspect anything.”
“There’s something else.” His voice was cold, almost flat. I hadn’t heard him like this before, not even the first time we met when he realized I wanted something from him more than a date.
I took a deep breath knowing I had to tell him the truth no matter what his reaction would be. We couldn’t be in a relationship if it was based on a lie. “As I got to know you, I suspected you might have a speech issue. Before we went to get sushi in my living room, then again on the phone when we talked about Thanksgiving that first time. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by asking about it. I wanted you to feel comfortable talking to me, and you did.”
“You’ve wanted me to be the spokesman this whole time. You were pushing for it from the beginning.” He started pacing in front of the couch as my heart pounded in my chest.
“I knew you didn’t want to be the spokesman. I wouldn’t push it if Lena wasn’t.”
He stood pacing in front of the couch, pointing a finger at me. “You’re hiding behind Lena and the contract but it’s you. When I spoke to Lena about volunteering with Kids Speak, she specifically said I didn’t have to be the spokesman. You changed her mind.”
I shook my head. “No. I didn’t. She came to me with the idea, reminding me of the contract, that she has full decision-making power.”
“I should have known nothing about you was innocent or real. I was so stupid to fall for you when you had your own agenda.”
I was surprisingly calm despite his increased agitation because I knew he was wrong. I wasn’t manipulative. “Honestly—”
He paused, his tone biting. He waved his arm at me as he resumed pacing. “Yes, please be honest.”
I stood to even things between us, willing him to listen. “I think if you came out to the public, it would be inspiring. You’d be telling them it’s okay to be transparent about the challenges you face. You can show them you’re working to improve.”
He stopped pacing, turning to face me, his expression one of defeat, acceptance.
I’m sure the nasty words his father said were playing on repeat in his head.
“I’m not working to improve.”
“You could be.” My heart was beating hard in my chest, my palms sweaty. I believed in what I was saying but was I pushing him away in the process?
He gestured between us. “Is that what this is? You’re embarrassed by me? You want me to change?”
I shook my head slowly. “No. That’s not it at all.”
“You want to change me like everyone else. Lena, Callie, my dad.” He spit out the words my dad.
His words slammed into my chest like a battering ram. I stepped back from the force of the blow, holding my hands up to stop him. “I don’t think your dad wanted to change you.”
Reid’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “He left because I disgusted him.”
Is that what Reid had been holding inside all this time? Guilt because his father left his family because of his speech? “I don’t think your father left because of that.”
“How do you know? You know nothing about my family.”
A weird calm settled over me. I couldn’t explain where my certainty came from. “He was probably going to leave anyway. I bet it had nothing to do with you.”
He took a step closer to me, his face tight with anger. “Just go.”
“What do you mean?” My heart had slowed, my voice cautious, dread trickled down my spine. I’d gone too far. I’d said too much. I’d ruined everything.
“You want out. Just go.” He flipped his hand at me as if my leaving meant less than nothing to him.
I shook my head slowly as if I could negate his flippant words
by the motion. “I don’t want out. I’m telling you what Lena wants. I’m on your side. I love you.”
“Lena only cares about the organization. She exploits people. She doesn’t care about them.” His voice rose with each word as if punctuating each syllable for effect.
He was so upset, his enunciation was sloppy.
I wasn’t sure what to say to his characterization of Lena. I didn’t know her well enough to contradict him with any accuracy. “Do you think you could talk to Coach? Maybe he wouldn’t want this affecting your play.”
“First, you weren’t looking out for me. Wanting me to be the spokesman is for you, for Kids Speak. That’s what you care about.” He pointed a finger at me, slicing me open without touching me. “Second, we’re not telling my boss that I’m weak.”
I placed a hand over my chest to still the pain spreading from my heart through my chest. “Give the people who care about you an opportunity to help you.”
“I don’t need help. I just need to be left alone.” His words bit through me, sharp and cold, leaving icicles in their wake.
My eyes narrowed on him, not comprehending his animosity even though Callie warned me he’d react this way. My heart was slowly shattering, one piece at a time, falling to the floor between us. “Surely, you don’t mean that.”
“You need to leave,” he repeated.
“Let’s talk about this.” I held my hands out to him, hoping he’d grab onto them, remembering that he loved me.
He turned away from me, his tone dull. “I want to be alone.”
Cold settled over me. Was this him ending things?
“I met with you, hoping you could help me. I walked away from that dinner denying my attraction to you. I resisted you because I can’t have anyone getting between me and my obligations to my family.” The words fell from my lips, disjointed, broken, the emotion interfering with my ability to think straight, to argue my case.
I touched his arm gently, uncertain how he’d react. The muscles under my fingers were taut with tension. I wouldn’t get through to him tonight. “I love you. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here for you.”
“Just go.” I flinched at the vehemence in his voice, taking a few steps back.
“Callie said you’d be like this. That you’d accuse me of manipulating you,” I said it softly, more to myself than to him, my anger at the situation building. I’d said I loved him several times. How was he able to dismiss me, what we’d had so easily as if what we had was meaningless?
“She was right.”
“I should have listened to her. I should have approached this differently. I don’t know though. Would it have mattered? Your fallback is to retreat, isolating and protecting yourself. Not letting anyone in.”
“You don’t know me.” His voice was flat as if we were already over.
If he was so quick to dismiss me, this might be my only chance to reason with him. “I do. I love every part of you. I don’t want to push you into doing something you don’t want to.”
“You are. You’re asking for the impossible.” His voice cracked, emotion leaking through, giving me hope.
“You pushed Quinton. You said whatever you had to, so he’d participate in his lessons. You wanted him to improve. Why not want the same for yourself?”
He turned toward the windows, crossing his arms over his chest, the lights of the city blurred by the raindrops falling on the window.
It was a dismissal I felt deep in my bones. He was shutting me out. He was incapable of listening at this point.
I ignored the voice in the back of my head that said he wouldn’t change his mind once he calmed down. He’d never done it before. Why would he for me? Why was I different than every other person in his life that hurt him? “I’m not your father. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”
“Then why are you telling me to improve, to talk about it?”
“You could help others. You could give them a sense that they’re not alone. The process might be healing for you.”
He didn’t respond, keeping his back to me. I wanted to wrap my arms around his waist, bury my face in his shirt, but he wouldn’t want that.
I went to the bedroom to gather the few things I’d left here over the weekend. I tried to compose myself before walking back through his condo, wondering if I’d ever be here again. I wanted to think we could get past this even though it felt final.
He stood in the same position, unmoving, his shoulders tense, his back rigid.
I pulled open his door, unsure if there was anything left to say. My heart pounded in my ears as I waited for him to say something to stop me, to tell me he’d overreacted, but he didn’t.
He let me walk out. My heart felt like it was dragging behind me as I walked to my car. It felt like nothing was ever going to be the same again.
I felt like I was in a fog, my arms held out in front of me, trying to find my way. Nothing was making sense.
My limbs felt heavy. My head throbbed.
Sliding into my car, I fumbled with my phone, dropping it several times, once between my seat and the console before I finally pulled it out. I sucked in a sharp breath when I saw several voice mails and unread messages from my father.
Dad: Mom fell down the steps. We’re waiting on an ambulance.
A few minutes later.
Dad: Where are you?
Dad: We’re in the ambulance on the way to Anne Arundel Medical Center. Meet us there when you get this.
I threw my phone on the seat next to me, it went sliding off the leather seat onto the floor. I pushed the button to turn on the car, my hands shaking. I backed out of the spot.
While I was busy pleading with Reid to listen to reason, my mom fell down the steps. While I’d been distracted, my dad was frantically trying to reach me.
I was supposed to be available. I was supposed to be there when they needed me. I’d failed them.
I’d never felt lower. I couldn’t get the vision of Mom tumbling down the steps, lying in a broken heap out of my head.
It wouldn’t have happened if I’d been there. This was the reason I’d stayed closed to home, never moving away. My family was supposed to be my priority, not some guy who’d cast me aside the first time we encountered a challenge.
I refocused my energy, channeling my guilt into getting to the hospital to make sure Mom was okay. They needed me.
I wanted to return Dad’s call, but he was probably inside the hospital. When I pulled out of Reid’s parking garage, it was raining so hard I could barely see. My wipers squeaked loudly across the windshield in a never-ending battle to clear it.
It took every bit of concentration to see my lane, much less stay in it. The road was shiny, reflecting the streetlights. My head spun with everything that had just happened.
Reid’s words echoed in my head. Just go. Just leave.
He was lashing out because of what his father did. It was impossible not to feel the weight of his rejection. He’d never trusted anyone until me. I’d blown that trust before we’d even met. We were doomed from the start.
I wanted to dwell, shifting through the argument, wondering how it could have gone differently but my parents needed me. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, trying to focus on the road in front of me with the pounding of the rain on the roof of the car.
The rain was relentless, punishing, just like Reid’s anger in his apartment. My head throbbed from the tension, my chest ached from our argument, my dad’s frantic texts, the reality that I’d been distracted when my parents needed me. I screwed up.
I sighed in relief when I saw the sign for the hospital. Finally. I slowed down, turning on my signal for the exit.
I steered my car into the exit lane. A piercing sound split the air. Tires squealed. Before I could react, there was a clash of metal, my car jolted to the side. My body jerked.
I gritted my teeth, pushed down hard on the brake, gripping the steering wheel tightly until my fingers ached from the pressur
e, mentally willing the car to stop. I continued to slide in slow motion, the pressure of my foot on the brake ineffective as I veered sideways.
“No, no, no.” I was going off the road. Trees flashed in my peripheral. I couldn’t stop. I had no control.
I gripped the steering wheel impossibly tighter. Pressed harder on the pedal until my calf muscles protested.
My body jolted a second time as my car slammed into the guardrail, my head bobbing around like a rag doll, the car sliding, the screech of metal, one long continuous sound piercing my ears.
My head struck the window hard. I screamed in pain, my body pitching in the opposite direction. I sobbed in frustration. I was powerless.
The airbags burst open throwing me back against the seat. White dust filled the car. My nose burned from the smell.
The car finally slid to a stop. I closed my eyes against the pain, the smell, the reality.
My head hurt, my fingers ached, my chest throbbed with relentless pain. I wanted relief. I wanted oblivion.
Chapter Thirty-Four
REID
She left.
I sat on the couch, my head dropping into my hands. When she mentioned making me the spokesperson for Kids Speak, I couldn’t think straight. All I could think about was my dad’s reaction to me talking, the comments from that one interview where I slipped, the heat of the spotlight on me, the weight of expectation. It was too much.
I wanted to eliminate anything that stood between me and anonymity. I’d protected my secret for so long, I couldn’t have it come out now. I’d worked too hard. I’d accomplished too much.
The boy I was when my father said those things, when he left, wasn’t here anymore. I was stronger. I knew how to insulate myself from people like that. People who wanted things from me, who wanted to exploit me.
I should have known Dylan Gannon would have looked into me. She had an ulterior motive.
Needing to talk to someone, I called Callie, putting her on speaker.
“Hey, boss.” Her soft voice rang through the silent room.
