I head to the car waiting out front, and twenty minutes later, I’m getting out at the airport. I check in for my flight, check my bag, and head toward the gate.
I call Penny on the way.
“Evs!” she answers, and she sounds happy. On the other hand, I’m crying again. “Oh, no,” she says. “What happened?”
“Jack fired me, and I’m catching a flight home right now.”
“Oh, Ev. I’m so, so sorry. What can I do?”
“I know it’s Halloween and you’ll be busy with the kids, but maybe I can see you tomorrow or something?” I beg.
“I’ll do you one better,” she says. “I’m trick-or-treating with the kids tonight and then dropping them at their dad’s apartment afterward. I’ll come over to your place, and we’ll veg out and have a sleepover like the good ole days before I got married and you got Billy-ed and we both got fucked over.”
“Deal. I’ll pick up ice cream on my way home. And vodka.”
“And I’ll raid the candy bags for all of the M&Ms,” she offers.
I feel like she was probably going to do that anyway. “If you see any Snickers bars…”
“You got it. I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”
I feel a little better as we hang up, and a short while later, I’m boarding my flight and leaving behind this place that has caused so many issues and so much pain.
CHAPTER 43: Maverick Jennings
Sending Minions
I’m watching the games from home on the day after my thirty-third birthday.
This isn’t the way to start a brand-new year.
It feels like my life has done a complete one-eighty over the last week.
It took ten years to make the first turn and one week to turn all the way back.
Except it feels somehow worse this time. Losing Christina sucked. It changed my very DNA. Losing my mom was harder. And losing Everleigh…
I don’t know.
It feels like something I can never recover from. Like I can’t go on. There’s no motivation to push forward.
I know there is. Obviously. But right now, everything just feels so…pointless.
It feels almost painful enough to just let go of the reasons why I had to end it in the first place, but if she’s not choosing me now for the big things, what kind of future could there possibly be for us?
I blow out a breath as I stare at the screen. Brandon Fletcher was just sacked. Could’ve been me laid out on my back as the commentators make their stupid comments about what the offensive line should’ve done to protect him.
But it wasn’t me in that position because I’m fucking sitting here, suspended because of my own stupid decision.
And who knows where it’ll lead? The DA could call me up tonight with questions, and if I don’t give them the answers they’re looking for, I could be in an even worse situation.
Thatis why I feel alone. That’s why I’m staring listlessly at a television with a bottle of Lagavulin by my side as I work on numbing out these stupid fucking emotions just so I can get through the day.
I’m allowed back into the Complex on Monday, and I’m there burying myself in my workouts for the entire day. One day turns into another, and another, and yet another, until a week has gone by without her. I work my ass off in the weight room, on the treadmill, in the pool. I spend time finger breathing up on the roof, contemplating what I can do to get her back, wondering what would happen if I just went against her wishes and named her father anyway. It would save me a hell of a lot of trouble, and it’s clear she’s done with me anyway.
I won’t do it despite the temptation. She might not be protecting me, but I’ll still protect her. It’s what you do when you love somebody.
I put in more volunteer hours at the animal shelter than my usual one a week. In fact, I go every morning before practice. When our bye week hits, I stay longer.
