“It’s too much traffic to the city tonight, and the weather is going to turn.I’m staying home.”
Every no is gentle, reasonable, explained and absolutely fair...if it were anyone else, in any other situation...But we aren't, and I certainly am not.
Everynoamps up the pressure, and sets off my anxiety, it leaves a hook under my skin.
I get it...I know she’s tired, and I know I am pulling her tight, pulling her in too many directions, even though she has been clear about the kind of life she wants.Because I know I’m the reason the world now feels like something she has to defend herself from.
But I can’t just let her step away.If she steps away, PR will push harder.The fans will speculate or go after her.Management will throw every clause of my contract in my face and ask questions I am not yet ready to answer.
But, worst of all, I’m terrified that if she steps away more, she will keep stepping and she won’t come back.So I start begging, pleading, guilting.
“Come to the next home game.Just sit in the box.I’ll send a car.”
“I want you by me at the charity gala.It’s important you are by my side.”
“You don’t have to talk to anyone.Just come with me.”
“Please, Tess.”
"I need you."
I hear myself, desperate, unsteady, but I can’t let up, I’m drowning in a life that won’t stop demanding things from her, because of me.
Meanwhile, Brielle steps back into the spotlight like she never left it.Showing up at minor events with her new guy, the dickhead who approached Tessa on Halloween.
She's been busy posting photos in places she and I used to go and giving interviews where she “wishes the team the best,” like she’s some kind of martyr.
She’s everywhere, and because the universe hates me, people start whispering again.They talk about the breakup, my reaction, the fallout and the upcoming holiday.
I tell myself I’m not thinking about her, I tell myself I don’t care, but I do.Not because I want her.Because I don’t ever want Tessa confused for something she isn’t: a replacement, a storyline, a PR mask over old wounds.I want the world to know she’s everything I didn’t think I needed and everything Brielle never was.
Except the harder I try to prove it… The more Tessa pulls away.
December rolls in fast and ugly; we travel for most of the month.Tessa and my family end up spending Christmas at the Palmers’, with the Morgans’.I wanted her to fly out and meet me on the road.She tried, but the storm shut down the airport, and by the time flights resumed...“It is too late now for me to make it to you for Christmas, and depending on what the connections are, you might be off to your next city when I land,” she told me softly.“We will have more time together to celebrate when you get back.”
I said I understood, and I did.But I hated it more than I admitted.Christmas without her felt wrong.It felt hollow; I couldn’t sleep; my knee hurt; and the air started to feel thin again.
Every time I opened my phone, I saw pictures of her at dinner with my mom, hugging Tessa, laughing with my sister.
Kenzie sent me a picture that nearly destroyed me.Tessa was sitting on the ground covered with wrapping paper, leaning back on Eli's legs, as he sat on the couch between Adam and Brody.They were all looking down at her with a mixture of awe, love, and joy as she held a baby in her arms.She looked so at home it hurt.I should’ve been there with her, beside her, in that world I fit into better than the one I’m paid to inhabit.
But instead, I was in a hotel in Minnesota, picking at room-service turkey while people on social media ran wild with speculation after Adam postedthatpicture with the caption "Spending holidays with the ones who matter."And it wasn't just that one picture; it was a carousel of everyone who was there, and somehow, she was in almost every picture.
She video called me, and it made the ache deeper.She looked beautiful but tired.I missed her.I wanted to go back to Thanksgiving, go back to when everything felt like shiny hope.She walked me around the house, making sure I got to say hello to everyone, trying to include me.But I still felt like the odd man out, the outsider.
When I got home on the 28th, she showed up at my place wearing a cozy sweater and jeans, ready for a quiet night.The night I had promised her.But I’d already invited a few guys over, which, naturally, turned into ten guys, four girlfriends, and people I didn't even recognize because Colby told someone, “Carson’s home and drinking,” which apparently is a bat signal.
Tessa didn’t complain; she didn’t look annoyed.She smiled, helped Jensen with drinks, and made small talk.But she never fully relaxed, and she looked fucking exhausted.
I hated myself a little for not choosing her over this, for being a coward who couldn't face her one-on-one because the guilt was eating me alive.
The crack happens during a lull in the party.
One of the girlfriends, I think her name is Lindsay or Lainey, plops down beside Tessa and asks, “So what are you wearing for the New Year’s Gala?”
Tessa blinks.“Oh.I work that night.”
My heart stutters.Sheneedsto be there.I lean forward.“No, Tess, remember?I put it in your calendar.I told you how important it was.”
