Don't Walk Away: A Second Chance Fake Fiance Romance

by Eva Luxe

  Chapter 3 – Brad

  Present Day

  I stepped off the plane at Denver International Airport and walked to the baggage claim carousel. Landing in Denver was different when I was on my way home. When I was with the team, traveling to whichever state we were going to play next, the airports were like hotels; nothing like home. This time, DIA was my last stop before Laramie. The last stop before I saw my mom.

  My phone rang, and I smiled when my mom’s name flashed on the screen.

  “The flight was perfectly on time, but you knew that,” I said with a grin after answering.

  “I’ve been keeping an eye on the website,” my mom admitted.

  I chuckled. “Baggage claim, rental car, and a two hour drive, and I’m home. Not long now. I’ll call you as soon as I leave.”

  “Be safe. God knows those cars you rent are nothing but a temptation.”

  I laughed. “See you soon, Mom. Love you.”

  I hung up. She was right. The cars I rented were a temptation to speed and go mad. But I had the money, and I had the taste, so there was no reason not to get the best of the best. And I wanted something spectacular.

  My bag was one of the first out on the carousel, and I picked it up. It was a nice change to travel without my football gear. I had a whole month off where I didn’t need to worry about anything. Football was on hold, and I could relax.

  After landing a football scholarship at Nova Southeastern University in Florida, my whole life had changed. Football had always been my dream, but being a professional player for the Florida Sharks had given me a name that the world knew now.

  I was Bradley Williams, tight end for the Sharks, and my future was bright. At least, that was what all the papers said about me. And I had learned a long time ago that the papers didn’t lie. They twisted the truth sometimes, they left out facts, but they didn’t lie.

  So, it had to be true; I was a star.

  The last six years had gone by in a blur, and I had seen so much of the country that I had never seen before. My life in Laramie before I had become “someone” was inconsequential now, nothing more than the route I had taken to get where I was now.

  The only reason I went back to Laramie at all was to see my mom. She was my number one fan. She supported me no matter what, believing in me when no one else did, not even me. She had been my rock and my strength, and I was looking forward to seeing her again. She was the family I went home to at the end of the season.

  I found the rental car offices. The agent that I had spoken to over the phone was star struck, blubbering over me. He was tall and reedy, and after he handed me my keys, he cleared his throat.

  “Can I bother you for an autograph? I’m not even going to lie and say it’s for my kid. I’m such a fan.”

  I didn’t roll my eyes or groan. I wasn’t rude. I smiled politely and nodded because to me it was a scribble, but I could make his day. He produced a photo of me where I had caught a high ball against the Jets, the first time the world had noticed me, and I wrote my name with black marker in the corner.

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Williams,” the agent said when I handed the photo back to him.

  “Brad is fine.”

  He beamed. I knew that to fans I was a big fucking deal, but to myself, I was still Brad Williams from Laramie, Wyoming. Even though I had to admit it felt good to be a star.

  I picked up my bag, and walked to the rental car. It was an Audi R8, and I whistled through my teeth. It was almost as fantastic as the latest Aston Martin I had just bought myself.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said, easing into the leather seats. “This is what I’m talking about.”

  This was when it was fucking great to be a star.

  Chapter 4 – Brad

  I drove out of the rental car lot and into the city, taking I-25 toward Wyoming. It was cooling down. August was one of those months where it was not too hot and not too cold, with the summer receding and winter announcing itself and everything hanging in the balance.

  The road was smooth, the air was clear, and I arrived at my mom’s place right on time. She came out, her arms wide, a smile on her face.

  “I knew you would get a death trap,” she said after hugging me, her eyes taking in the car.

  I laughed. “You’re always teasing me about my cars.”

  She shrugged. “You’re the only boy I have. I need to keep you close.”

  I hugged her again. “It’s good to be home,” I said.

  I looked at the house I’d grown up in. It was exactly the same, from the two rocking chairs on the porch to the mud splatters along the bottom of the walls that happened every time it rained.

  We walked into the house, and I put my bags in my old room before I joined my mom in the kitchen.

  “Tell me what I’ve missed,” my mom said. She started on spaghetti bolognaise, my all time favorite if it was my mother’s. “When are you going to bring a girl home?”

  “When I find one, Mom,” I said. “But dating isn’t my priority.”

  My mom sighed. “Yeah, you always say that. But I don’t believe that you don’t have a string of girls following you around. You’re handsome, just like your dad. And you’re not going to be young forever, you know?”

  I groaned. We had this conversation every time I visited.

  “Mom, I’m only twenty-five, and I’m at the peak of my career. I can’t play ball forever. Once I retire, I can start thinking about a family.”

  “But I want grandchildren,” my mom said.

  We laughed together. I couldn’t even think of something like that now. My football career had an expiration date; love didn’t. Seeing that I hadn’t found it yet, anyway.

  Not since Carly.

  The thought of her brought a pang of longing and guilt that I shoved away. I was here to enjoy myself, not to visit ghosts from the past. I hadn’t seen her since that day, and odds were that she’d moved on long ago. She was the kind of woman any guy would be happy to have, so I was sure she’d found someone else by now.

  “I know this is important to you,” my mom said, pulling me back to the present. “But you know I’m not going to stop nagging.”

  “I know, Mom,” I said.

  I knew she meant well and just wanted me to be happy. What she didn’t understand was that playing ball made me happy. Nothing since Carly had made me so happy so I didn’t see the need to chase tail or date women when I could never get my mind off the one I lost my virginity to and had hoped to do a lot more than that with.

  I had always figured that when the time was right, I would be able to put Carly in my rearview mirror and move on. It just so far turned out that time took a lot longer to be right than I had anticipated.

  We spoke about a bunch of things on our drive. Mom told me about her life here, gossiping about her friends and the people she saw every day, telling me about a world I wasn’t a part of anymore. I settled into that comfort that comes with being back at home, listening to the sound of my mom’s voice, the sound that had lulled me to sleep when I was a kid.

  We ate dinner together, and I helped her clean up. When we were done, the sun was sinking below the horizon.

  “Let’s sit outside,” my mom said, and we made coffee and sat in the rockers on the porch. The sky was colored in streaks of orange and purple, the last frantic attempt of a drowning sun to survive. It was beautiful, and I took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of the fall breeze that hung in the air.

  The neighbor’s front door banged open, and a man stomped out that wasn’t Jeremy Brandt, the man who had lived next door all my life. This man had a full head of gray hair and an uptight attitude, despite his age. And he looked achingly familiar.

  “Who’s that?” I asked.

  My mom was silent. I glanced at her. She looked at her hands, picking at a nail. I watched the old man as he walked to the garden shed. His walk and his stance and his attitude nagged at my subconscious. A moment later, it hit me.

  “Is that Mr. Donovan?” I as
ked, looking at my mom.

  She looked at me, her lips pursed together, and nodded.

  “He lives next door now?” I asked.

  As she nodded again, I shook my head. Fuckin’ A, man. The coincidence was ridiculous. That Carly’s tyrannical dad would end up right next door to my mom’s house seemed like a cruel joke.

  Yet there he was, taunting me with his very presence, just like he had haunted my past for so long.

  Chapter 5

  Brad

  “When did he move in?” I asked my mom, still annoyed.

  “They moved in a few months ago. Charles and Denise Donovan.”

  “I know their names,” I said softly.

  Charles Donovan had haunted me for a long time. I couldn’t believe he was right next door to my mom now. I had hoped I would never see the man again. I had done exactly what he’d asked and steered clear of his house and his daughter. I hadn’t really had a choice, considering how he’d brandished a gun at me and said he’d ruin my life if I didn’t.

  I had secretly hoped that Carly would somehow come to me— sneak into my room like she used to and tell me that we could be together again, at least in secret if not out in the open. But unless she did that, I didn’t want to get her into any trouble by bothering her. I knew her dad was ruthless and I didn’t want to cause her harm. She never came to me, so I didn’t go to her.

  I did what her dad wanted and got the fuck out of Laramie, started playing ball in college and then went pro. I more than fulfilled his command and didn’t come around here anymore, except on these briefs trips to see my mom, where I wouldn’t ever even think of going around to Carly’s house or anywhere else in town for that matter. I didn’t want to know if she had found someone else. Sure, I hoped she was happy in her life but I didn’t want the torture of seeing just how happy she could be with someone other than me.

  “You didn’t mention that when you brought me up to speed with the neighborhood gossip,” I said, the words sounding like an accusation.

  My mom pulled up her shoulder in a shrug. “I wasn’t sure if it was something you would want to talk about. I know you try to avoid news of Carly. And when he was here that day, I—”

  “Don’t, Mom,” I snapped. I took a deep breath and added in a softer voice, “please.”

  I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to be reminded. I hadn’t been able to stop what had happened, and I hadn’t been able to get Carly back. Perhaps I had been a chickenshit for not trying harder but I felt I had been between a rock and a hard place. To protect the girl I loved from her dad had meant having to stay away from her.

  I hadn’t been the man I was now, though. I had changed— hardened from the teenager boy who wanted to make life easy on the girl he loved and respect her father even if he was threatening to kill me. If he dared to say a bad word in my direction now, I would show him what I truly thought of him.

  I had no need to hold back now, since he’d robbed me of the one thing in life I truly loved— his daughter. She had probably long ago moved on, and perhaps having a confrontation with her father was exactly what I needed to do the same.

  As he approached us, though, I was surprised to find the hair on the back of my neck standing up, just like it had done on that day long ago. I supposed there was still a lot of unfinished business between us.

  “Lydia,” Charles said, coming toward the fence between our houses. He put his arms on the fence, which was just a little lower than shoulder height. “How are you doing?”

  “Just fine, thank you, Charles. How can I help you?”

  He nodded at me, and I nodded back. He looked at my mom, and he seemed completely calm. Had he completely forgotten about me? Or was his precious little girl not his problem anymore, now that she had graduated and was probably married to some rich guy with a bunch of cute little kids by now? Did he come to gloat and rub it in? If so, then so help me God, I would jump that fence and do the same thing to him that he did to me all those years ago.

  My mom was the picture of politeness. I could tell by the tightening around her eyes that she was nervous, but it was only because I knew her that I could pick up on it.

  “Where did you get that pesticide you gave Denise the other day? It works wonders.”

  It was such an innocent question for him to ask that it caught us both off guard.

  “At Wilmer’s,” my mom answered, mentioning the local convenience store. “It’s nothing special.”

  Charles chuckled. “You always say that, but your advice is the best. I’ll see you around.”

  He lifted his hand in a wave to the both of us and sauntered off. I waited until he was inside before looking at my mom.

  “Good buddies, huh?” I asked.

  “No reason not to be. It was a long time ago, and he’s gotten rather old and senile. I don’t think he knows that this is the house, that it was you.”

  I frowned. Could it be? I knew that I’d changed. I was muscular now, and I’d gotten taller in college. I was confident. I had grown up. Could it be that the man next door, the man that had ruined my life once, didn’t know who I was?

  If that was the case, everything had changed. I didn’t have an enemy here. I was just another man who came home to visit his mom from time to time. And if I ever ran into Carly again, everything would be different.

  Not just because I was a different person, but because this somehow set me free. Free to do exactly what I wanted to do. He could do nothing to me now.

  I thought of Carly with her long brown hair, her big blue eyes, and the way she could wrap me around her little finger with a few soft words. She had been my everything, the girl I had given it all to, once.

  And if I saw her again? God, the things I could think of doing to her.

  But, I was sure she had moved on. Even if her dad didn’t remember who I was or didn’t care anymore, the chance for Carly and me to be together was long gone. It was all a fantasy now.

  Chapter 6 – Carly

  I drove to Laramie, and I hated being home. It wasn’t the place; it was the people. Since I’d gone to study in Colorado, I’d been happy. I was away from my parents and able to live my own life, away from the memories that wouldn’t leave me alone when I came home, and free to keep as many secrets as I liked.

  When I parked in front of my parents’ new house, my stomach tightened in a knot of nerves. They had moved since it was just the two of them— they’d figure I wouldn’t come home for good again— and didn’t need a big house anymore. I hadn’t known that they’d moved in right next door to the home where Brad had grown up.

  God, what a mess. It was almost like fate wouldn’t let me forget about him for a single moment. If he wasn’t on television, reminding me of his existence, my parents lived next door to the place where I had spent most of my senior year.

  I doubted he would be here, though. If his mom still lived here at all, Brad wouldn’t be with her. He was probably jet-setting all over the world, wowing women left and right with his charm and fame. I wouldn’t have to face him. Small victories.

  “Honey, you made it!” my mom cried from the front door. She’d spotted my car in the drive. I plastered a smile on my face and opened the door.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said and let her hug me.

  “How was your trip, honey?”

  My dad came out, and our eyes met for a moment before I looked away. Since the day he’d assaulted Brad and dragged me out of his house, our relationship had been pretty much nonexistent. I hadn’t gotten over what he’d done to me. I wasn’t the fuming, sullen teenager anymore, but I wasn’t going to pretend that he was my hero, either.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” my dad said and hugged me awkwardly, planting a kiss on my hair like he used to when I was little. It meant nothing to me now.

  “Traffic wasn’t too bad on the way,” I said, answering my mom’s question.

  “That’s good, honey. I get so worried when you drive.”

  My mom was always worried about ev
erything. Between the two of them— my dad with his menacing presence, and my mom with her constant anxiety— life sure was a party.

  It was one of the reasons I barely came home, even though it wasn’t that far to drive. I had friends that flew across the country every chance they got to see their parents. I guessed their parents hadn’t forbidden them to see their true love again. So, things were different for them, and of that fact I was very jealous.

  “Come on in,” my mom said. “We set you up in the office. I packed away my elliptical, so you can pull out the sleeper couch. I hope you don’t mind?”

  “Of course not, Mom. Thank you.”

  We walked through the house into the office that had now been transformed into a semi-bedroom. It was strange to see the furniture I had grown up with now set up in a different house, but I guessed that things like furniture and decorations were what made a place home.

  “This is a nice place,” I said.

  My mom nodded, proud of herself. “It’s modest, but we like it.”

  I hadn’t been home since last spring, and it felt like in that time, everything had changed.

  “I want to get my bags out of the car,” I said.

  “I’ll help you,” my dad offered. I wanted to tell him not to bother, but my mom saw it coming.

  “That will be nice, thank you, dear,” she said to my dad. “I’ll warm up dinner while you two take care of that.”

  I sighed and nodded. My dad led the way to the car, and I followed him. I opened the trunk, and he took my bags. I grabbed a blanket and my jacket and closed the trunk. A movement next door caught my eye, and I turned my head.

  A man stood on the porch, hands in his pockets, looking up. It was the face I had seen on TV a thousand times. Brad was home.

  My Brad. He was back.