Love To Love You (Love/Hate #3)

by Isabelle Richards

  At this point, I think a baby would have been easier. At least a baby wears a diaper. You change it, rock it for a little while, then go back to sleep. No one told me I’d be walking in circles in my backyard at three in the morning, in the rain, begging my dog to pee.

  Ari and I are swamped today. We’re meeting with Carmen this morning to talk about Jenna and issues with the HOA, then I have to go to practice and she’s off to meet with the Discovery Channel people to plan the premiere of the documentary. Thankfully Helen is coming over to take Heisman out a few times during the day. Paulina said it’s best to crate train him, but the idea of him being locked up all day makes my stomach churn. Granted, we did buy him the biggest crate they sell—I think it might be larger than my freshman dorm room—but still.

  Considering he was up all night, the little bugger has a shitload of energy. While Ari’s getting ready, I decide to take him for a run. Based on the number of scowls I get from my neighbors, I think it’s fair to say the shanty town of paparazzi that has popped up outside our gates might hinder my chances at the Neighbor of the Year award. You know it’s bad when even a cute puppy can’t evoke a smile.

  After I come in from our walk, I unclip Heisman’s leash, then carry him upstairs. I’d let him try the stairs himself, but the last time he used them, he got tangled up in his legs and ate shit. As cute as it was, I think I’ll wait for him to grow into his legs a little before we try the stairs again. “I’m guessing whatever HOA stuff Carmen has for us isn’t good. Mrs. Winters just flipped me off as she drove out of the neighborhood. She’s feisty for an old lady!”

  When Ari doesn’t respond, I look around the upstairs for her. I find her on the phone in the office, wrapped in a towel. From the looks of it, there’s still shampoo in her hair. Heisman tries to lick the glob of shaving cream still on the back of her leg.

  She’s scolding the person on the other end of the line—I know that tone well. Ari doesn’t yell when she’s mad; she just gets cold. The sound of her voice will make chills run up your spine and give your ears frostbite. Whoever that is on the other end of the phone is in deep shit. I pick Heisman back up and walk to the bedroom to get her robe.

  “Fix this and fix it now,” she says before clicking off.

  I hand her the robe. “What’s up?” I want to ask her who woke up the Ice Princess, but I value my life.

  She takes the robe but doesn’t put it on. She paces, frantically talking with her hands. “I was listening to my emails in the shower, and Suri tells me the business guys insisted we make a textile change to a cheaper fabric. They chose one from a company I didn’t recognize. So I asked Suri to look it up. Not only is the company not a Fair Wear company, but they dye their textiles in India and assemble in Bangladesh.” She throws her hands in the air and the robe goes flying, landing on top of Heisman. She looks at me as though I should know what this means.

  “I can tell this is a bad thing, but I can’t recall why.”

  “Child labor! I will not put my name on this line if there’s even a chance the fabrics have been made by kids who are essentially slaves.” From the worry lines on her face, I can tell she’s carrying the guilt of this, as though it’s her fault these children are being treated so abhorrently. “I will not allow anyone to profit from the blood, sweat, and tears of children.”

  “Come here.” I pull her closer. I move her shampoo-filled hair to the side and rub the tension in her neck. “Stay here, get this resolved. Push off the Discovery people if you have to. I’m sure they can get the plans rolling without you. I’ll meet with Carmen myself. If there’s anything major, I’ll let you know.”

  “Are you sure?” Her voice trembles slightly as I work on the knot in her back.

  “Positive. Whatever it is, I can handle it.” I kiss her neck. “You should go wash the shampoo out of your hair before it dries.”

  She spins around, then gives me a quick kiss. “Thank you.”

  While she’s showering, I change and pack my bag for practice.

  Just as I’m about to leave, she runs downstairs and hands me a manila envelope. “Can you give that to Carmen for me? I emailed her to let her know it’s coming.”

  I look at the heavy envelope as I shove it into my bag. “Sure. What is it?”

  “Oh, it’s all my financials. She’s going to need it when she draws up the pre-nup. I figured I’d get it to her now.” She kisses my cheek. “Thanks. Have a great day.”

  She turns to leave, but I grab her waist and pull her back. “Back the truck up. Carmen’s drawing up our pre-nup?”

  She shrugs. “I can have Wallace draw it up if you’d rather. It really doesn’t make a difference to me.” She says it as though she’s talking about paying the electric bill or something else completely banal.

  “No one is drawing one up because we’re not having one.”

  She laughs lightly. “Don’t be silly.” Her phone rings upstairs. She taps my arm to ask me to release her. “I’ve got to get back on the phone, and you need to go. You’re going to be late.”

  I drop my arms, but I do not move out of her way. I stare in her eyes so she knows how important this conversation is. “I’m not going anywhere until we talk about this. I’m dead serious, Arianna. There will not be a pre-nup. Why would you even think that?”

  Crossing her arms, she shifts her weight. “It’s the responsible thing to do. It keeps everything clean. No complications, no confusion.” She raises her eyebrows and looks at me as though I’m the crazy one. “Everyone does it. I don’t know what the big deal is.”

  I throw my hands in the air. “The big deal is I won’t have my lawyer draft up my divorce papers at the same time I’m applying for my marriage license. If we plan for the marriage to end, then it’ll turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy. I’m not starting our lives together with that dark cloud hanging over us. No fucking way.”

  “You’re being melodramatic. It’s just a way to make sure everyone is protected.”

  “We’re not going to need protection because we’re not going to get a divorce,”

  I snap. “If you’re honestly so worried about our future that you think you need protection, then why the fuck are we getting married in the first place?”

  She winces. Maybe I’m shouting louder than I should. Maybe I could choose words that sting a little less. But I’m pissed. I can’t believe she’d think this is something I’d go along with.

  Softening her tone, she puts her hand on my shoulder. “Chase, be practical about this for a second. Over the course of your career, you will make double or triple the amount of money I have. If your contract goes the way I think it will, you might quadruple it. You need to think clearly about this.”

  “I think I’m the only one in the house thinking clearly. What’s mine is yours. I want you to have all of it. Every last fucking penny. Because we’re building our future together.”

  “That’s a lovely notion in theory, but in reality, things get messy and that sparks unnecessary complications. Our lives have enough of those already. I don’t ever want money to be one of them. It’s so much easier if we keep things separate from the beginning.”

  My anger surges. Her voice is full of condescension, as though she’s the learned expert and I’m just some Neanderthal. Since when does being in love and having faith in the future make someone a moron? “We’re getting married! The whole point is to stop being separate. We’re going from two individuals to one family. A family that shares everything. Christ, the next thing you’re going to tell me is you’re not going to take my name.”

  She gawks at me. “Change my name? Are you crazy? Of course I’m not going to change my name!”

  “What?” I roar. “You’re honestly not going to change your name?”

  She slams her hand on the kitchen counter. “Do you seriously expect me to throw away everything I’ve worked for to adhere to some archaic, antiquated tradition? What sort of misogynistic bullshit is this?” She shakes her head. “I really expected
better from you.”

  “You expected better from me? Really? I guess I expected better from you too. I foolishly thought when you said you wanted to marry me that it meant you actually wanted to marry me. To start a life together. But clearly I was wrong. You don’t want to start a family. You just want to keep everything separate. Apparently, it’s cleaner that way. God forbid marriage get messy!”

  “You’re not being fair! Have you not been paying attention for the last ten years? I am not just a person, I’m a brand. Arianna Aldrich is a brand, one with excellent consumer recognition, by the way. People have watched me grow up. They know me, they like me, they trust me. When I’m the face for a car or a watch or a clothing line, they trust it’s a quality product because they trust me. I can’t play tennis anymore. My brand is all I have, and you want me to just throw that all away? No one’s buying a car from Arianna Brennan because they don’t know who the hell she is!”

  “Of course not! That’s not what I meant. I’d never ask you to change your name professionally, but I assumed you’d change your name personally. I assumed you’d want the same last name as our kids. Maybe I shouldn’t have assumed. Maybe that sort of thing isn’t as important to you as staying exactly who you are. You want to keep your name and have the divorce papers ready to go and waiting behind ‘in case of emergency’ glass. Are you going to unpack your bags too, or would that be asking for too much commitment? It’s a lot easier to run at the first sign of trouble when your bags are already packed.”

  Her hands shake with fury as her jaw drops. “I do not run. You know that! I am not that person anymore. And I would never, ever run out on my family.”

  I drop my head into my hands. Fuck, I went too far. “Ari, I’m sorry. I was mad, and I shouldn’t have said that. I—”

  She holds up her hand. “Save it. I am not plotting our divorce. I have no intention of giving up on our marriage. Ever. However, it’s irresponsible to walk into this with rose-colored glasses. We’re not just two people getting married. We’re corporations with hundreds of millions of dollars, and employees and property. There are a number of issues to consider. You can deny it all you want, but deep down, you know if anything ever happened to us, it would be ugly. It always has been in the past, and I can only imagine it would be so much worse in the future. I thought if there was a pre-nup, it would help save us from ourselves.” Her head falls as her shoulders slump forward. “I know if something were to happen and our love dies, I’d probably keep fighting you just to keep you in my life because I wouldn’t know how to let go. A pre-nup stops that. We walk away without a war.”

  I put my hands on her shoulders and look deeply into her teary eyes. “I will never walk away. Do you honestly think there’s something we can’t get through? Some adversity we can’t overcome? Because if you do, then we shouldn’t get married. I believe with every ounce of my being that we can weather any storm as long as we don’t give up on each other.”

  Her brow furrows as she touches my cheek. “No. God no. I’m sorry that’s how I’ve made you feel. I don’t have any doubts about us. I’m not trying to build an escape hatch. I’m just trying to do the responsible thing.”

  “Fuck responsible. We don’t need it. You and I are indestructible.”

  A tear streams down her face. I can tell she’s struggling. Ari always wants to do the right thing. The mature thing. The thing that’s expected of her.

  “Don’t you think everyone who walks down the aisle starts off thinking that?” she asks.

  I wipe away her tears with the pad of my thumb. “Not everyone has a love like ours. If they did, they’d know nothing on heaven or earth could pull them apart. I want you to have everything. My heart, my soul, my last penny. I’m giving it all to you. If you want to squirrel your money away as a life raft in case this ship sinks, then go ahead. But I can promise you, you won’t need it, because this ship isn’t going down.”

  She searches my face as though she’s looking for a sign. Something to tell her what to do. So I do the only thing I can think of. I put my hand on the back of her neck and pull her to me. I kiss her, praying that as my lips caress hers, as my tongue slides against hers, she’ll feel the strength of our connection. Words can only say so much. I hope I can make her feel the unwavering intensity of our love.

  Marriage is a risk, a huge gamble that the person you love today will be your partner for life. You have to have faith that through all of life’s ups and down, struggles and triumphs, you’ll grow and evolve together and that in sixty, seventy, eighty years, you’ll still be in love. There are no crystal balls or guarantees. I just hope she feels secure enough in us to take that risk.

  Suddenly I feel something warm under my feet. We break our kiss and look down at the bright yellow puddle. Heisman looks at us with his big brown eyes, and we both start laughing.

  “All right, Brennan. No pre-nup. We’ll share everything. Houses, money, a last name. There will no longer be mine and yours. There will only be ours.” Her phone rings for the millionth time. She pats my shoulder. “Since you now have one less thing to do with Carmen, you get to clean up your dog’s pee while I go save our clothing line.”

  “My dog? Didn’t you just get through saying no more mine and yours?”

  She scratches behind Heisman’s ears. “Oh no. He’s my dog when he’s cute and sweet and loving. He’s your dog when he keeps me up all night and pees on our floor.”

  I grab the roll of towels and the disinfectant under the sink.

  As she walks upstairs to her office, she says, “And since I now get a vote, we’re selling that damn Maserati. It’s an overpriced piece of crap with a shitty engine and no pickup. It’s the kind of sports car people buy when they know nothing about cars. I’m embarrassed to have it in our garage.”

  “Fine by me.” I hate that car. I’ve just been too lazy to do anything with it.

  “And we’re changing the carpet in the bedroom.”

  “Anything else?”

  She laughs. “I’m just getting started.”

  Fabulous. I can see it now. The whole house is going to be remodeled. She blows me a kiss from the top of the stairs.

  She could ask me to find a way to paint the sky purple, and I’d do it. She’s worth it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chase

  No one warns you that after the long, hard climb to the top, you have to fight twice as hard to stay there. Everyone else is sick of losing. They want it just as badly as you do, the only difference is they have nothing to lose. They’d do anything they could to knock you off the throne. So you scrape and claw and fight to prove you’re still worthy. What choice do you have?

  Down by four with five seconds left. Thirty yards to the end zone. We’re undefeated and number one in the NFC West, but still it feels as if the whole season is on the line.

  If we lose, the blame rests of my shoulders. I will forever be known as the quarterback who had the potential to go all the way but blew it. If we win, they won’t celebrate as hard as they used to. Everyone’s just come to expect it. Winning is no longer a victory, it’s an obligation.

  I look up in the stands and see all the faces. I don’t see wishful anticipation, fingers crossed, praying we somehow pull this out. All I see is disappointment. You’re down in the fourth? How dare you let that happen! You suck, Brennan!

  At times like this, I wonder why the hell I do this to myself. I look down at my bloodied hands and try to shake off the throbbing in my back. It hurts to move. It hurts to breathe. But then I look up and see Aiden’s name on the scoreboard, and I remember why I’m doing this.

  It’s time to stop bitching and play some fucking football.

  Five seconds to go.

  The ball’s snapped.

  Four seconds.

  I step back into the pocket.

  Three seconds

  I search for a target.

  Two seconds

  Fuck, no one’s open. This is it. This is where it ends.


  One second.

  Benson’s fighting off his double coverage. I throw it with all I have and pray he gets free.

  The buzzer goes off.

  Touchdown Niners!

  Holy shit, we did it! My team swarms me and hoists me up. Glancing at the board, I give a slight nod to Aiden’s name as they carry me into the locker room.

  I look around the room and feel so fucking lucky. This is the greatest group of men I’ve ever played with. Their respect and commitment to the game and each other is overwhelming. We play like a team, and we treat each other like family.

  I get out of my pads and head to the press room. I want to get this over with so I can get home to Ari. My eyes glaze over as I sit through the typical questions and regurgitate the typical canned, programmed responses.

  “How are you handling the pressure of the three-peat?”

  “Is that why you fell behind in the second quarter?”

  “Do you think you can finish the season undefeated?”

  “Did you pay Billy Tate twenty thousand dollars to take out Oliver Marshall in the Super Bowl last year?”

  What the fuck?

  I clear my throat. “Excuse me? I must have misheard. Could you repeat that?”

  “Chase, this is Barry Brown from DeadSpin. We have a report stating that Billy Tate claims you paid him twenty thousand dollars to take out Oliver Marshall. He has documentation to back up his story. Do you care to comment?” He smirks. “The story just went live. You might want to get your side in before things get out of control.”

  Cell phones all over the room ding and buzz. The reporters look at their phones, then look at me as though they’re a wild pack of hyenas and I’m the first prey they’ve seen in a week. The questions come at me like an automatic weapon firing through a full magazine.