A Different Game: A Wrong Game Novel

by Matthews, Charlie M.

  My mum was coming back? And they wanted to talk? To me? Was the end of the world upon us and I was the last to know?

  “Okay. I’ll be here,” I agreed. “But Dad?”

  “Yes, Melanie?” He sighed in frustration.

  “You were wrong about Jake. I was wrong about him,” I admitted, already feeling guilty for ever doubting him. I had to put it down to teething problems, what with our relationship being new and all. We were bound to get our wires crossed from time to time. I doubted that would ever change.

  “I thought we’d already discussed this,” he said, running his hand across his forehead before soothing his temples. His brows knitted, almost as if he was getting an instant headache. When he eventually pulled his hand away, his blue eyes softened slightly before that icy stare was back. “The boy is no good for you.”

  “You're wrong. Jake is different. He's not like his father, I promise.”

  “Melanie.” He sighed again. “Whatever he said to you last night to change your mind, please don't listen to it. Boys like him will say whatever they need to in order to get what they want. I was young once. I should know.”

  I shook my head. “He's not like that. He cares about me. Really cares about me.” I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince. Myself or my father.

  “You're young. You have a lifetime to fall in love and settle down. Don't you want more for yourself?”

  “Of course, I do. But I can have all of that with Jake. Why does it have to be one or the other?”

  “I don't want you wasting your life on a boy. I told you. I was young once, too. I know what it's like to fall in love and find yourself blindsided along the way. The only thing you see is that one person in front of you. Your ambitions, goals… all of that will be forgotten, and then what? What happens when it all goes wrong?” Dad looked exasperated. It was clear he hadn’t counted on me arguing with him. He didn't understand that it wasn't like that. I wanted to be with Jake. That didn’t mean I had to give up on my dreams.

  “You met Mum when you were seventeen,” I reminded him. “Younger than me… Now look at you? You're a freakin’ mayor, and Mum is an international designer travelling the world. Why can't I have that?

  “You can. When you're old enough to know what's best for you. You're still young and swept up in this fantasy that, quite frankly, isn't going to work. I’m not trying to be mean or unreasonable. I’m just trying to tell you that I want more for you. I want you to travel the world and follow you dreams first before you settle down with the first guy who pays attention to you.”

  “Please, Dad, listen to me. Please…” I begged. “For a long time, all it’s ever been is me. And it's been lonely—so damn lonely. Do you know what that feels like? To be all alone in the world? Wanting someone, your parents, to take you in their arms and tell you that they care. That they love you. No, you don't.” I shook my head. “All I’ve ever wanted is to be loved back. For someone to want to spend time with me and to not make me feel like I’m a burden or unwanted trash that they need rid of. All I wanted was for someone to care about me. That's all I’ve ever wanted, Dad. Now I have that. So please, don't make me choose, because I won’t.”

  “Honey, I know the last few years have been hard on you. On all of us. We know we've let you down, but we want to change that.”

  “And making me end things with Jake is your way of changing how you and Mum have treated me these last few years?” I frowned.

  “That boy has nothing to do with this, I can assure you.”

  “Then why? Why can’t you just leave me to make my own choices like you have done? Why now? When things are finally starting to look up for me, why now, hey?”

  Dad closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened his eyes again, he appeared to be unsure about something. I continued to frown, wondering what this was really about. “I wanted to wait until your mother got back to tell you herself,” he started. “But seeing as we’re on the subject I may as well tell you now. Your mother has decided to come back home. For good this time.”

  “What?” I practically squeaked. “But… what about work? She can’t just up and leave.”

  “She's hired staff to run the offices while she's away. She’ll still fly out when she’s needed, but she'll be spending the majority of her time working here, from home. Like I said, we’ve let you down, but we want to make it up to you. You have to know that we love you, Melanie. But Shawn's death affected all of us in different ways. Especially your mother. She wasn’t well, and she didn't think she could be the parent that you needed her to be. She's getting better now, I promise. And I know how sorry she is and how guilty she feels for pushing you away.”

  “Wow,” I breathed, shaking my head, my eyes widening in disbelief. Had he really just apologised for all the years of hurt he had caused me? My mouth hung open, speechless. “I don't know what to say.”

  “Say you'll forgive us. Forgive us for being lousy parents and say you'll give us a second chance. God knows, we don't deserve it, but it would mean the world to us.”

  A tear fell from my cheek as I nodded, his admission gripping me from the inside and taking a hold of my heart as I blinked back hot emotion. I could see the guilt and hurt in his usually cold eyes as they twinkled back at me. They shone with a softness I hadn’t felt in such a long time. This was my dad.

  “I’m so sorry, baby girl,” he said, pulling me against him. His familiar scent made me stiffen as my arms stayed glued to my sides awkwardly. I never imagined feeling his arms around me. I had forgotten what it felt like to have my father in my arms, showing me that he loved me. And I never imagined how much my heart would swell from those few comforting words.

  “I love you, Melanie,” he breathed against the top of my head.

  “I love you, too, Dad.” I sniffed as I finally relaxed in his arms and let him hold me to him. I knew he needed this as much as I did, and although I wasn't sure I could ever truly forgive them for abandoning me for all those years, I knew for certain I would always love them. Maybe that was enough.

  “About Jake…” Dad continued, trailing off as I felt him smile against the top of my head.

  I shook my head. “I want to be with him. I’m going to be with him.”

  “I thought as much.” He shook his head, laughing lightly.

  It was later that afternoon, while I was scrolling through Instagram, debating whether or not to put myself out there and enter the competition, when my phone pinged beside me, alerting me of a text. I smiled as I glanced down at the screen

  Jake – How did it go with your dad?

  How did it go? Not as I’d expected it to, that’s for sure.

  I hit reply.

  Me – It went surprisingly well.

  Jake – That’s good, right? It’s what you wanted.

  Me – I guess so. I don’t know. He said that my mum is coming home. For good! Still trying to get my head around it.

  Jake – No way! Well, if she’s coming back, maybe she wants to make amends.

  Me – Maybe. I don’t know. Anyway… How was practice?

  Jake – Good. Managed 70 minutes

  Me – That’s great, Jake! I’m proud of you

  Jake – Cheers, Mel. When’s your mum due back?

  Me – Any minute now, I think.

  Jake – Don’t worry, babe. I’m sure it’ll be okay.

  Me – See you tomorrow?

  Jake – Tomorrow it is. Good luck, Mel x

  Me – Thanks, Jake. See you tomorrow.

  I hit send and threw my head back against the pillow, pulling my sketchpad onto my lap. If Jake was strong enough to throw himself back on the pitch and play a full seventy minutes with an injured knee, then I could submit a damn design.

  “Be brave, Mel,” I told myself as I reached for a pencil from the pot beside my bed and pressed it to the paper.

  Two hours later and a full outline sketched out, a soft knock tapped against my bedroom door.

  “Yeah?” My heart hammered again
st my chest at the thought of it being my mother.

  My grip on the pencil tightened as the bedroom door creaked open and my mother’s petite frame entered my room. Eyes that she had passed onto her only daughter gazed across at me unsurely as she cautiously made her way over before sitting at the edge of my bed. I wrung my hands out nervously as I breathed through the silence.

  When her eyes flickered towards the sketchbook in my lap, she smiled. “It’s nice to see that some things haven’t changed.”

  I lifted my shoulder in a half shrug and flipped the cover over, placing it back in the bedside drawer. Rejection flashed through her eyes. A look I knew all too well. I wouldn’t feel guilty about it. I didn’t owe her anything.

  “I guess you already know why I’m here.”

  “Dad said you were coming home and that you wanted to speak to me.”

  Mum nodded and ran her hands flat across her thighs. “Yes. God, this is harder than I imagined it would be. I mean, I knew it would be tough. I haven’t slept a wink since I told your father my plans to come back home. I guess I just… I don’t know.” She inhaled a breath and slowly released it before lifting her eyes to mine again. “I’d forgotten how beautiful you are.”

  “You didn’t come here to tell me how beautiful I am, so spit it out. What are you really here for?”

  Mum frowned and sighed. “You’re right. I didn’t come here to tell you that, although you are, Melanie. You are beautiful, and I should have been around to tell you that. Every day. I’m sorry, honey. When Shawn died it was like my whole world had followed him. The hours felt like weeks, and the months began to feel like years. I felt a numbness that I’d never experienced before and getting out of bed most days seemed impossible. I don’t know how much your father has told you but I wasn’t in a good place. I did things that no mother should ever even imagine doing. I spent a lot of days after your brother’s passing, angry at the world, and myself, for not doing enough to save him. I didn't force the drugs into his system but I could have done more. The guilt became too much and I knew I needed something. Anything to take the horror of that day away and ease the guilt I felt over losing him. I turned to medication. Antidepressants, painkillers, anything to numb the pain. For a while it worked. I felt nothing but emptiness. Coming off of them was something I needed to do. Not just for myself, but for you and your father. I never stopped loving you, Mel. I just stopped seeing you. I could see nothing but my baby boy’s face for years afterwards. They say that time is a healer. That the pain will ease with time. It doesn't. It still hurts, even to this day. It felt like I was alone. That no one could possibly understand what I was going through.”

  “You weren't alone, Mum. You had me. I was here. God, I was always here, waiting for you to come back to me. But you never did.”

  “I knew I had let Shawn down and I couldn't live with myself knowing I would likely do the same to you. I couldn't put you through that. I couldn't lose you, sweetheart.”

  “You wouldn't have lost me. All I ever wanted was for you to talk to me. Hug me. Tell me that we were going to be okay. I just wanted my mum.”

  “I know that now. But back then, it didn't seem possible. I only had to look at you to know what I had done to you.... what I had taken from you.”

  “You didn't take Shawn from me. He did that to himself. You don't think I’ve felt guilty? That I haven't told myself that I could have done more to help him? Because I have. I still do. But it happened, and as much as we want to change what happened, we can't. Shawn's gone. But I'm here. I’ve always been here.”

  “Oh, honey, I know. I am so, so sorry for not being there for you. I can't imagine how that must have felt for you. You were so young. You still are. You needed me. My baby girl needed me and I wasn't here. I will spend the rest of my life regretting what I did to you. But, Mel… I want my daughter back. I want my bright, beautiful, smart girl back in my life. That's if you’ll let me...”

  I shook my head. “All my life you made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. Like I was a disappointment. I was thirteen when I told you that I wanted to be a designer, just like you. Do you know what you said to me?” I asked. Mum shook her head and lowered her eyes. “Nothing. You said nothing.”

  “Mel, I…”

  “You laughed at me, Mum. Do you have any idea what that felt like? You made me feel ridiculous. Like there was no way I could be as good as you.”

  Mum narrowed her eyes. “Is that what you really thought?”

  “That’s how I really felt.”

  “Mel.” She sighed. “I never, ever, thought that you wouldn’t amount to anything. I knew you would be a fabulous designer. I still do. I just wanted you to follow your own dreams. Not mine. Now I know that they were yours too, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel inadequate. That wasn’t my intention.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. I only ever wanted you to get the best out of life. To do everything that I never got to do. If you want to be a designer, Melanie, then do it. Be the best you can possibly be, and have no regrets. That’s all I want for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Will you give me another chance? Let me be there for you now? Before you jet off and chase the sunset?”

  “I’d like that.” I nodded.

  Mum smiled brightly at me and patted my knee. “Good. Now, are you going to show me what you’ve been working on? Bessy said you’ve come a long way since college.” She flashed me a knowing grin.

  Mum must've noticed the surprise on my face at knowing she'd spoken to Bessy. Patting my knee again, she said, “That Bessy is as crazy as they come, but boy doesn't she talk sense?” She winked.

  Emotion lodged in my throat and I forced back a sob and nodded before pulling my sketchbook back out of the drawer and handed it over. Her fingers shook as she pulled the cover back and a mixture of emotions seemed to flash across her eyes. Surprise. Adoration. A proudness I’d always dreamt of her showing when she finally came around to looking at my designs. And sadness because she knew she’d missed out on so much.

  Mum pulled her long, blonde hair across her shoulder and dabbed underneath her eyes using the sleeve of her grey sweater. “Oh, Mel,” she breathed out. “These are… these are beautiful.”

  And there it was. The acceptance I’d needed all those years ago.

  48

  It was the following Saturday when the next curveball struck us. I’d just spent forty minutes training with Riley as we prepared ourselves for tomorrow’s game against The Hawks. Riley had been tearing it up since the first moment we stepped out onto the pitch. It was clear he was trying to let off some steam. He looked like a tortured man in the weeks since his breakup with Aubrie. If tearing up the field was something he needed to do in order to feel better, I wouldn’t stop him. I only hoped that he didn’t injure himself doing so. The last thing we needed the day before the game was to be a man down.

  Half an hour later, we were showered, dressed and heading out of the locker room when Riley nudged my arm. “How do you feel about tomorrow?” he asked. I could tell he was concerned. Not that he needed to be. I felt fine.

  I pulled my car keys from the back pocket of my jeans and shrugged. “It’s just a game. It’s not like we haven’t done this a million times before.”

  Riley shot me a knowing a look. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “I feel good,” I told him. “Better than good, actually. I feel like I’m one step closer to being out there again.”

  “Just don’t go too mad on the pitch tomorrow.”

  “Come on, Rye. You know what it’s like.”

  “I do. Which is why I’m telling you that you need to go easy out there. It’s not worth it, mate.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. It’s worth it if it means I get to play.”

  Riley sighed and shook his head. “All I’m saying is that it’s going to take time. Just don’t do anything stupid. And please tell me if it gets too much. John’s on standby
if you decide you can’t go on.”

  I hated that he’d already decided that I wouldn’t make the full ninety. I’d been practicing for tomorrow ever since Riley asked me to play. I was ready for it. I was so fucking ready for it.

  I nodded anyway, deciding it was easier just to go along with it than argue with him. I pressed the key fob to unlock my car and I said my goodbyes to Riley, telling him I’d see him in the morning as I climbed inside. Just as I chucked my phone into the cup holder, it started to ring.

  I pulled it back out, glanced down, and frowned. It was Mel. “Hey, babe,” I answered.

  “Jake?” she said, her voice distant. I could hear the passing traffic in the background and knew she must’ve been outside. It wasn’t even midday yet.

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s the warehouse, Jake. They’re taking everything out,” she cried down the line.

  “What? Who is?” I felt the frown creep across my forehead.

  “I don’t know. Some builders, I think. But,… they’re saying the owner has sold the land to some developer up north. They’re going to demolish it tomorrow.” I could hear banging in the distance, and then Mel yelling at someone to stop whatever it was they were doing.

  “Mel, calm down.”

  “My designs! They’ve taken them all.”

  “Breathe, babe,” I told her, and heard her pull in a breath before releasing it. “Are you there now?” I asked, turning the ignition.

  “Yeah. Bessy called while I was at work. I left as soon as I hung up the phone.”

  “Okay. Try to calm down. I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

  “Okay.” She sniffed. The phone went dead.

  Eight minutes later and I pulled the car into the industrial estate and switched off the engine. The first thing I noticed was a distraught looking Mel who had her face in her hands, pacing back and forth. I frowned as I took in the equipment that had been set up. Cranes, bulldozers, skips of all shapes and sizes. When Mel’s eyes found mine, she rushed over, throwing herself against me.