Fourth and Inches

by Kata Čuić

  “You weren’t supposed to be home yet, and I didn’t know I was going to get grounded to my bedroom to fend for myself,” she grumbles.

  “I didn’t know I was going to be double-teamed when I walked in my own front door.” I help her shed the jersey, anyway.

  She’s gotta be sweating in this thing.

  “Why don’t you want me seeing you in my jersey? My name still looks damn good on you.” Especially in that spot just above the curve of her hipbone, imprinted on her skin for all time.

  She squints her eyes at me and seals her lips shut.

  I know when I’m beaten. There’s no way I can fight three women at the same time.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I let you think I’d been sleeping around while we were apart. I’m sorry you overheard my phone calls with Mallory and thought the worst. I’m sorry I went behind your back. I’m not sorry about doing anything I can to keep him away from you.”

  “You had no right.”

  “I have every goddamn right. I love you. I’m your husband. I would give my life for yours.”

  She sniffles.

  That makes me feel lower than everyone yelling at me. When I look up, her eyes are squeezed shut, tears running down her cheeks.

  I brush one away, but she jerks back.

  Which obviously causes her more pain.

  And definitely causes me pain.

  Her blue gaze swims with more tears when she levels me with it. “I was finally in a good place. I was getting my life together for me. Not just so you wouldn’t worry anymore when I walked out that front door for good. I made peace with what I thought I knew.”

  “But, you didn’t know the whole story,” I argue, not liking where this is headed one bit. If she’s calling it quits, that explains The Moms’ extra sour moods. “I cheated on you once. I already told you, I’d never survive that again. There will never be anyone for me but you.”

  “I am never going to feel worthy of that,” she admits. “No amount of therapy will change it. In fact, thinking you’d been with so many other women actually made it easier to handle when I thought you’d finally found one worthy enough to share more than sex with. Like, you just had to keep trying out different options until you found the perfect one.”

  I honestly don’t know how to respond to that.

  Evie continues, “I opened my heart to you once. Even though I knew it was a risk. I thought you trampled on it, and I closed it off again. You pried it open. And then…and then Jackson happened, and the roles were reversed. You closed yourself off from me, and I had to fight my way in.”

  She doesn’t pull away when I caress her cheek this time. I got out all my demons and confessions. Now it’s her turn. I won’t interrupt.

  “College was…” she rolls her lips between her teeth, fighting for air and holding her stomach to combat the pain. “College was a nightmare. I can’t pretend anymore what I did was only for you. It was to protect myself, too.”

  Oh, I’m painfully aware of that fact. And, I’d be lying if I said I thought either of us was completely over cheating on each other…yet.

  “And this last time?” Evie’s whole body shudders with what must be an excruciatingly painful sob. “This time I was better. I was ready to give you up. I was ready to move on. I can’t give you my heart again, Rob. Even knowing it was all a misunderstanding, I just can’t.”

  I swallow down the lump in my throat to speak. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  “I can’t,” she cries. “I can’t. It won’t end well.”

  And yet she was wearing my jersey, obviously watching my game since she couldn’t attend in person. She’s in our bed. She didn’t give up and have the hysterectomy. She opted for a painful surgery that gives us hope we didn’t have without it.

  I take her damp face in my hands, resting our foreheads together. “If you can’t give me your heart back, then I’ll just have to take it back.”

  She shakes her head, but I don’t let go.

  “Yes, I will. You said it yourself. You’ve already given me three downs. Well, this is fourth and inches, baby, and we’re too close to not give this last play our all.”

  “We should punt,” she sniffles.

  I pull back and gasp in mock disappointment. “No one punts with inches to the goal line. Come on, Falls. You know better than that.”

  “Don’t. Don’t smile at me that way.”

  Oh, yeah. I’ve got her right where I want her. She never could resist my dimple.

  “What?” I stretch my cheeks wide. “Like this?”

  “I hate you.” She pouts some more.

  “You love me.”

  “I hate that I love you.”

  Déjà vu. I could swear she’s said that exact same thing to me before.

  “Well, I love loving you, and I’m going to keep doing exactly that, whether you want me to or not.”

  “You’re not giving me a choice this time?”

  I rise from the side of the bed and strip off my suit to get more comfortable as I think about her question. “Your choice is whether to accept my love or not. I have zero choice on whether to give it.”

  Evie eases herself back to rest against the headboard. “Ugh. I empathize all too well with that sentiment.”

  I’m not stupid enough to let my gleeful chuckle loose. Mentally, I’m doing a victory dance.

  She’s not calling the game, yet.

  And, I have some serious groveling to do.

  Knowing that, I stretch out on the bed beside her, staring back at her as intently as she gazes at me.

  She breaks, first. “Now, what?”

  “Got any bright ideas for how to entertain ourselves until we’re not grounded anymore?”

  A hint of a smile pulls at the corner of her mouth. Like the sun struggling to break through the cloud cover, she fights to keep a straight face, but slowly crumbles until she’s holding her stomach and gasping for air. “Oh, God. Don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much.”

  “Okay, okay. No joke wars, then.” I catch her hand in mine and rub a soothing trail up and down her arm until her body relaxes again. “I guess sex is off the table, too.”

  She aims a glare at me. “You didn’t win today. No victory BJ for you, anyway.”

  Now, I’m the one laughing. She wouldn’t have been able to do that even if we had won the game. “I wasn’t planning on asking for anything, either way. Besides, shouldn’t it be winners’ choice? What if I don’t want a blowjob after a good game?”

  She raises an eyebrow like she can’t believe the words that just came out of my mouth. “I thought you enjoyed that tradition? What do you want, then?”

  No way am I going to admit no guy in his right mind would refuse a gorgeous woman putting her mouth on him. I wasn’t always in my right mind, and I did actually refuse her attention for a long time. No need to dredge that up, though. “Remember that bucket list we made for you at the hospital?”

  Evie opens her mouth to respond, snaps it shut, then furrows her brow. “Actually…no. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Well, this promises to be an amusing game of distraction, then.

  I climb off the bed, fish my phone out of my suit jacket, then find the note I made that day before handing the evidence over to Evie.

  Her mouth drops open and her eyes go wide. “Anal play?”

  How shocked would she be if I’d typed exactly what she said?

  I reclaim my spot on the mattress and read over her shoulder. This list looks much more appealing now that she isn’t thinking these items are never going to happen. Or that they’ve already happened for me.

  “You should see how red your cheeks are right now, babe. It’s adorable.”

  She blinks slowly at me. “There’s nothing adorable about this list. What did they give me? Horny out of my mind pills?”

  She’s so fucking cute. I can’t laugh nearly as hard as I want to for fear of jostling her too much and causing her more pain, but damn. It’s a strug
gle to breathe.

  “Well, well, well. Look who kissed and made up.”

  Evie rushes to hide the phone behind her back at the sound of her mother’s voice in the now open doorway.

  The whole situation only makes me laugh more.

  Until my mom steps up beside Diana, her arms crossed, no happiness on her face whatsoever.

  Oh, shit. We’re in trouble.

  “We’re calling an end to this little,” my mom gestures with her index finger between me and Evie, “arrangement.”

  What the fuck? I sit up on my side of the bed. “Uh, no. There is no end.”

  “Oh, yes.” Diana nods. “There is. Your little bet is over, all negotiated terms null and void.”

  Out of the corner of my mouth, I whisper, “How much did you tell them?”

  Evie shrugs. “Everything.”

  Double shit. Triple. Grand slam.

  We’re so screwed.

  Still, if we want to be treated like adults, then we have to act like them. “You can’t void our terms. We made them, not you. Besides, we still have four months to go and we already met all the goals we set for each other.”

  “Well, we’re setting new ones,” Mom retorts.

  Evie gives me a questioning glance on the side. “Why?”

  “Because we want grandbabies, and if you two are going to be parents, then it’s time to grow up and handle your own shit.”

  Whoa. I don’t think I have ever heard Diana swear before.

  Evie sighs. “Mama…”

  “Don’t you ‘Mama’ me. Now, listen up. Going forward, you two will respect each other as husband and wife. That means no going behind each other’s backs.” She points at me. “For any reason.”

  “You will support each other in all things.” Mom points at Evie. “That means going to as many games as you can attend.”

  The Moms take turns listing their new demands. Things like clearer communication, team effort, united front. It’s a cross between the pep talk I hoped for earlier and an ass-chewing for playing a shitty game.

  “Do you think now would be a good time to point out they don’t have any grounds to tell us how to have a successful marriage, considering neither of them did?” I mumble.

  “Do you think today seems like a good day to die?” Evie hisses back.

  Noted.

  “I heard that,” my mom snaps. “And that is why we have every authority to tell you what will break your marriage apart. We’ve already lived through it, and we love you both too much to see you suffer the same fate we did.”

  “Point, Moms,” Evie whispers.

  “Now,” Diana seems to turn into an entirely different person right in front of my eyes, her gentle, motherly demeanor returning. “It’s time for your next round of medication, and then you both need to get some rest. We’ll be leaving in the morning, so you’ll be on your own to care for each other.”

  I stretch back out on the bed after our mothers clear out, meeting Evie’s bewildered gaze.

  It’s pretty much a mirror of what my own expression must look like.

  “What the hell just happened here?”

  Evie purses her lips. “I think they gave us an ultimatum. Although, I’m not really sure that’s any different than what we already did with each other. Maybe they need to still feel like our parents, even though we’re adults?”

  “If YiaYia were here, she’d have been on our side.”

  “She says we have a year to be married in the Church or she’s disowning us.”

  “Well, then. I guess we have some more work to do.”

  Evie raises an eyebrow at me. “I did not hear the words wedding planning once in this evening’s speech. We might be able to get around that detail.”

  We clam up when Diana returns with Evie’s meds.

  Later, lying in bed in the dark beside my wife, I still can’t believe this day happened.

  “Fear.”

  Evie sighs. “No. No, no, no. I’ve had enough for today. I can’t handle anymore. Tell me your fear, want, and don’t want tomorrow.”

  I raise up on my elbow, gazing down at my gorgeous wife. Her hair’s grown out and her curls are everywhere. Just like I used to dream while we were apart. “Hear me out. Fear: We’re going to turn into our parents. I want you to promise me that we won’t let that happen. I don’t want to be bossing our adult kids around like they’re idiots. We won’t do that, right?”

  Evie’s sly smile lights up the darkness. “If they need it? You bet your sweet ass, we will.”

  Two things ping in my brain.

  My wife thinks I have a sweet ass. Score.

  My wife just talked about kids like they’re a sure bet.

  I’ll take those odds.

  “If you’re not feeling up to it, don’t drag yourself to the stadium just to appease The Moms. We still have the whole season for you to recuperate and come to games.” Rob’s voice rises over the din in the background.

  The team must be at dinner.

  It annoys me even more he’s calling, for the hundredth time since he left this morning, when he should be getting ready for the game tomorrow.

  His teammates need him focused, not worrying about me.

  “Rob,” I sigh. “I’m fine. It’s been two weeks since the surgery.”

  “You couldn’t roll over in bed last night without wincing, and I’m still not allowed to hold you while we sleep, so no. Two weeks or not, you aren’t fine.”

  The progress we’ve made in our relationship withstanding, I still hate his pity.

  “Don’t you have more important things to be doing? Like getting your team ready to leave the loss from last week behind?”

  His long exhale sounds like static over the line. “They’re doing just fine without me.”

  I cut a quick glance to my current company. If he’s listening to the conversation, like I know he is while pretending not to, he might want to pay closer attention.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Is something going on at the hotel?”

  “Honestly, the night before a home game is worse than hotels in other cities. Inevitably fans find out we’re here, and all hell breaks loose.”

  So, they’re not at dinner. They are the dinner.

  My mind paints a startling picture. Nearly naked women crowding the team, begging for autographs on their exposed skin, offering to help the guys take the edge off their nerves.

  And, that’s just what I remember from similar scenarios during Rob’s NCAA days. I can’t imagine what it must look like at the next level up. For so long, my imagination was running wild, thinking Rob was taking the jersey chasers up on their offers.

  “Don’t worry.” Rob seems to read my mind, even across the city. “I’m being a good boy and making myself available for autographs, interacting as much as you made me promise to.”

  “How many boobs have you touched? I mean…signed?”

  “None,” he scoffs. “I haven’t gotten to touch my favorite boobs in forty-eight days. Do you really think I’m going to touch anyone else’s? How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want any woman who isn’t you?”

  “You’re keeping count?”

  “Of course, I’m keeping count. Had I known I wasn’t allowed to touch because you thought I was having another affair, I would’ve come clean sooner. I’m starting to get twitchy from lack of physical interaction.”

  I can’t help but laugh at that. He’s come so far from the days, weeks, months following my attack. “Your mind works in strange, strange ways, Falls.”

  “Whatever. My mind is one of your favorite things about me.”

  I can’t deny that. “Explain to me how your mind is rationalizing making yourself available to the fans while talking to me on the phone?”

  “Oh, that’s easy.” He mumbles something in the background. A feminine giggle responds. He clears his throat, then speaks louder. “Sorry, I can’t take a picture right now. Talking to my wife. We’re in the middle of a pet emergency, but I
hope you’ll be in the stands, cheering the Rushers onto another win tomorrow!”

  Ah, so that’s his play for the night. I’m his excuse for not putting himself out there more than necessary.

  “Do I need to make up a feline medical condition in case one of them questions you about it?”

  He laughs. “Don’t jinx me. So far, they’ve been surprisingly respectful of the wedding band and wife on the phone.”

  “Have there been times they weren’t?” I don’t even know why I asked such a stupid question.

  “Well…” Rob draws out, hesitance clear in his voice. “Davis currently looks a little nervous about all the breasts in his face.”

  Keenan Davis is very married, and has never shied away from publicly stating so. His wife is a media mogul for the team.

  “I’m really looking forward to finally meeting Khadijah tomorrow.” And thanking her.

  “I don’t know, Evie.” Rob lowers his voice, clearly trying to make our call more private. “I don’t like this. You said you never want to be a football wife again, and I wasn’t kidding when I said I don’t want you to. If you get sucked back into this world tomorrow…I don’t want my job to be the thing that breaks us. Not after all we’ve been through.”

  I don’t want it to, either. Rob’s reservations are my own. I won’t kid myself into thinking I’m fully prepared for tomorrow.

  It will be my first public appearance in nearly two years.

  As his wife.

  “It’s not just your job.” But, it is my job to ease his worries. “It’s your life. And if I want to be a part of that, then we’ll simply have to accept our roles for what they are.”

  “I’ve never been very good at acceptance.” The background noise falls away, signaling Rob has gone somewhere quieter to continue our conversation. “Every day, I think about walking away from it all. Sparing you the media assault. I’m destroying my body, and for what? Money? We don’t need that to be happy. What kind of life are our kids going to have in the shadow of almighty football? I don’t want to be like my father. ‘Nothing comes before football’ will never be a phrase in our home.”

  This conversation has been a long time coming. We’ve only ever briefly touched on the topic. I just wish now was a good time to dig into it deeper, where I could hold him in my arms, to give him the reassurance he so clearly needs.