Chapter Nine
Her baby girls slept soundly in the king-sized bed, the muted television throwing light across the rumpled bedspread. Jessica sat in an overstuffed chair in the corner with a blanket over her knees and opened the browser on her computer. Her fingers trembled as she typed in Tim’s name—Tim’s real name.
Tim Ryan—disgraced NFL Quarterback for the San Francisco 49ers.
The screen immediately came to life with distressing headings likeheartbreaking,loserandfailure. Clicking on the first header, the browser took her to a video replay of the Super Bowl moment that had changed Tim Ryan’s life forever.
The fans in the stadium were going wild, gold and red team colors ablaze in the stands. The roar was deafening inside the AT&T Stadium in Dallas, Texas, commentator’s voices giddy with ten seconds left on the clock. The camera zoomed in on Tim, his profile recognizable from beneath his gold helmet, the video replay going into slow motion.
He was in the shotgun position ready to take the snap, the 49ers down thirty-four to twenty-nine with three yards to go, first down. An incredible comeback victory was on the tips of his fingers. His mouth moved as he shouted the final cadence. As the ball was perfectly snapped from center, he glanced to the left side of the defense to check the coverage. A fraction of a second with his eyes off the ball was all it took. The football hit the bottom of his hands and ricocheted off his knee toward the line of scrimmage. A look of horror crossed his face when he witnessed a beefy defensive lineman from the opposing team break through and recover the fumble. The game was over in an instant.
Jessica covered her mouth with her hand as her eyes welled with tears. The moment was shocking, forever captured on film to replay over and over. Something had gone terribly wrong. The confetti cannons erupted as the Pittsburgh Steelers proclaimed victory in the end zone, the stunned 49ers dazed and confused. Tim fell to his knees on the field, his chest heaving. Everyone witnessing the dreadful loss that dayhadto know the agony he was feeling at that moment. There was no consoling an athlete after something like that.
Jessica continued to scroll and landed on several locker room interviews shortly after the devastating loss. A somber, clean-cut version of Tim was trapped in the incandescent camera lights at the end of three-dozen microphones. His chiseled, beard-free jaw-line was clenched as questions ricocheted one after the other like bullets out of a gun. The rims of his beautiful green eyes were red, as if he’d been crying. Forced to relive every painful play from the game he had lost moments before, Jessica was in awe of his composure. Tim firmly answered question after question about several pivotal seconds in his team’s loss to the Steelers.
And then he was asked, “How do you feel?” His countenance changed for the first time in the interview, the undeniable pain displayed on his handsome face. He simply stated, “I feel broken. I feel numb.” Noticeable tears streamed down the six-foot-five, 235-pound quarterback’s face and he had to take a moment to gather himself a few times. Jessica couldn’t help it when her own tears left a wet trail down her cheeks.
She clicked on another interview dated a month after the infamous Super Bowl loss. Tim was announcing his early retirement from the sport he had dedicated his life to. He sat at a table with numerous microphones assembled in front of him, the 49ers logo on full display behind him. The early onset of a scruffy beard was noticeable on his face, and his short, golden hair was mussed. His eyes displayed a profound sadness, the mood in the room, heavy.
“I’ve known anger and disappointment this past month as I’m sure all of you have too. Some of you have threatened my life; have disposed of anything related to the team and me. It’s unfortunate. My teammates don’t deserve that. I take full responsibility for the Super Bowl loss. This wasmyfault. Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t want your pity. I will forever hold a deep love and respect for my teammates and the great San Francisco 49ers franchise. I have felt a huge responsibility for my city’s stifled aspirations in winning the Super Bowl title. The bottom line is, I don’t have my shit together—as a player, as a man, as a leader. It’s time for me to bow out. For the record, American sports will break your heart. I’m sorry I broke yours.”
Jessica shook her head. Her own heart hurt seeing the larger-than-life athlete turned shattered man on national television. No wonder he left town. Fans could be so cruel. But to threaten a man’s life because of a loss? She couldn’t fathom that kind of life living in fear, the humiliation Tim probably felt, unbearable.
Scrolling through years of interviews pre-Super Bowl, Tim came off as a confident and strong professional. He was the quintessential all-American, clean-cut quarterback everyone admired. His popularity was unfathomable, and he was often photographed with a famous female celebrity or supermodel on his arm. Jessica could feel her confidence dwindle as she gazed at paparazzi photos of him in the company of such gorgeous, famous women. His life had definitely been lived in a fishbowl for all the world to see. Leaving behind a world of success and celebrity had to have been an agonizing decision. Was he happier now? Did he have regrets? Was he going to live in the shadow of his former self for the rest of his life behind his bearded face, long hair and his mother’s name?
Jessica shifted in her chair and yawned, her emotions depleted as she quietly slipped into bed next to her sleeping children. Her life was simple compared to Tim’s, her goal to raise her daughters to the best of her ability. If she were to continue to see him and his identity were to become exposed, where would that leave her and the girls? Would they be safe? Should she take a chance for once in her life and live outside her comfort zone?
Images of Tim’s emotional face during the interviews after the Super Bowl swirled in her mind as she drifted off to sleep. He had given up so much for his peace of mind. There would always be someone out there pointing at him, reminding him of the worst moment in his life. It wasn’t fair, but it was part of the game he had committed to. He was once a king in the industry, idolized and worshiped. Now, he was spurned and disgraced. He was a beast living in the woods, hiding from the angry mob. It was a tale as old as time.
***
“What do you mean he’s not who he says he is?” Elizabeth questioned as she sat at the kitchen island while the girls animatedly squealed and played all around them.
“I can’t tell you exactly,” Jessica replied while pulling sandwich fixings out of the large fridge.
“That makes absolutely no sense.”
Jessica’s daughter Jill interrupted, showing Elizabeth a Barbie doll with red lips, distracting her for a few seconds. Her friend had red lips today and was dressed to the nines in a pencil skirt and sky-high heels, her blonde hair pinned up in a perfect chignon. How the woman drove her expensive sports car in those shoes, Jessica had no clue.
“Oh, yes Jilly. She’s my favorite. Red lips make a real statement on a woman.” She turned and fixed her gaze on Jessica, her groomed eyebrows cocked with good humor. “Don’t you think so?”
Jessica slapped a few pieces of deli-turkey on the bread. “Sure, as long as it’s Chanel.”
Elizabeth bent toward the child and ran her crimson fingernails through her golden curls. “Spoken like a true Southern lady.”
Jilly ran off, leaving the two women to continue their conversation. Elizabeth interlaced her fingers neatly on the granite and arched her back, leaning forward on the bar stool. “Now, where were we?”
Jessica shook her head and neatly cut the sandwiches into triangles, setting them on individual plates. “You need to trust me, Elizabeth. He’s a good guy. When he says I can talk about it, believe me, I will.”
“Now, that is not fair Jessica Lynn! I tell youeverything! Who exactly is this guy and what has he done to my best friend?”
Jessica couldn’t help but smile and blush, reminiscing for a quick second about Tim’s flaming lips on hers. She didn’t want to keep secrets from her friend, but Tim insisted she not tell anyone who he was. It would be so easy to tell Elizabeth everything. To tell her how rich and famous Tim Ryan really was. It might even be a relief to get it off her chest, not that his secret was a burden per se. But wanting to honor his request, she kept her mouth shut.
“There’s that look again! I hate it that you’re keeping something big from me.” She folded her arms across her designer blouse and pouted.
“I have to, Elizabeth. It’s for his well-being. I promised I wouldn’t let the cat out of the bag until he gave me the green light. You’re gonna have to trust me on this one.” She placed the plates in front of each barstool and started to cut up an apple she grabbed out of a large fruit bowl.
“Humph,” Elizabeth sighed. “Do you mind if I ask a few random questions and you give me some hints? My mind is going all sorts of crazy.”
