Nausea causes my stomach to clench, and I push my food away. Not bothering to clean up after myself, despite knowing I’ll get reamed by my mother for it in the morning, I make my way to my bedroom and fall onto my bed fully clothed.
Staring up at the ceiling in the dark, my eyes burn, but I blink hard, not wanting to cry over a complete stranger who doesn’t deserve it. It’s pathetic.
I always end up here—empty, embarrassed, and wishing I was normal. Wishing I didn’t crave people so much. I’m so sick of crumbling every time someone looks at me like I matter only to decide I don’t. Dad. Dylan. Mum. I trusted them all, and it blew up in my face, so now I seek comfort and attention from strangers, and even they can’t be bothered to hang around.
Maybe I’m too much, or maybe I’m not enough. Hell, maybe I’m both. I try to play it cool and brush things off, pretend like nothing bothers me, but deep down, I’m over-analysing every interaction, every word, and wondering what the hell is wrong with me.
Thank God for Willow. If she hadn’t found me in the bathroom crying when everything went down with Dylan in high school, I’d have no one. She stuck by me as I reinvented myself, building my daring devil persona. When Mum reamed me out for dyeing my honey-blonde hair afiery shade of red, Willow didn’t bat an eyelid. She simply squeezed my hand and said, “You do you, boo. No one can make you feel any less than the queen you are unless you give them that power.”
Ironic, considering she still lets her mother walk all over her.
While her words have helped me through some of the toughest spirals over the past four years, they don’t erase the feeling of inadequacy, or the emptiness that consumes me until I go searching for my next validation hit. That’s what Euphoria is for me—validation.
With the way I’m feeling right now, even that won’t lift my mood.
Rolling over, I snuggle up to my pillow and fall asleep wondering if I’m destined to be alone forever.
Chapter 10
Ethan
My decision to leave Beckford weighs heavily on me, and I have no idea why. With my failed marriage, and my son moving on with his life in Blue Haven, there’s nothing keeping me here. But as I sit in my office on Wednesday morning staring at my laptop, something holds me back from sending my notice of resignation.
I glance at my phone, lying face down on my desk, silently taunting me for being a coward. Is this what’s holding me back? Some kind of mid-life crisis fling with a younger woman. It’s crazy. I don’t owe her anything. We don’t even know each other.
Leaning back in my chair, I run a hand over my face. Sure, the release was intense, and I can’t deny how hard it got me watching her play her body like the little devil she is. But there’s no future in this—for either of us.
With a groan, I straighten and press the send button before I can change my mind. The little swoosh sound of the email leaving my inbox causes my stomach to swoop.
A knock on my door is the perfect distraction, and I call out for whoever it is to enter.
“Hey, Coach.” Luca pokes his head through the door. “Got a second?”
I nod, closing my laptop and motioning to the chair in front of my desk. With a solemn expression, he strides into my office and takes a seat across from me. Despite knowing he has no idea what I just did, my chest tightens at the concern in his eyes. “What’s up?”
He drops his gaze and rubs the back of his neck, heightening my sense of paranoia. My chest tightens as I wait for him to speak.
“I’m worried about Peters.”
The words hang heavy in the air, and I frown, trying to pinpoint why Luca might be concerned for our keeper. Nothing seemed off with him at training yesterday, and Andy hasn’t mentioned anything. “What’s wrong with Peters?”
Luca grimaces. “He wasn’t in class today, so I went past his dorm to drop off some notes for our upcoming assignment, and he was icing his shoulder.”
“Right,” I say slowly. This isn’t great news, especially with the game against BHU this weekend. I need all my players to be in top physical condition.
“What are we going to do, Coach?” Luca presses. “With all due respect, I’m not losing to Dyl. Your pansy-arse son would never let us live it down.”
I huff a laugh. Luca and Dylan have had a friendly rivalry since playing together in high school. While my son is a good player, Whitford has the determination and dedication to be the best he can be. He pushes himselfharder, and goes above and beyond with his training to become elite.
“I’ll check in with him.”
“Do you want me to work with Kincaid just in case? I can spend a few hours with him this afternoon at the stadium.”
Pride washes over me at the young man sitting in front of me. In the ten years I’ve known him, he’s never let anything get in the way of his team being the best they can. When Dylan was struggling with his first touch back when they were thirteen, Luca spent hours passing the ball with him in the backyard until he improved. No matter how much Dylan complained about it, his competitive nature, which he inherited from yours truly, made him want to prove to Luca that he could do it.
My son was determined to be better than his teammates, but unfortunately, he was too selfish to be the best. Dylan was too focused on scoring the most goals, but what he didn’t think about was his teammates, who were loading him up with assists. The one thing he never truly grasped was that there’s no ‘I’ in team.
I grab my stadium keys and toss them to Luca. “I’ll check on Peters at training tomorrow, but it will be good to have Kincaid ready just in case.”
