Hmm… she really hasn’t called in a while.
My chest tightens with concern, but then I recall.
Right. The texts.
I swipe through our messages. Yep, there they are—my automated morning texts. I love the app that lets me send those out.
Me:Morning, Melly. Love you.
Melly:Morning, J. You too.
I nod, look up at everyone gathered around me, and smile. “But we text daily.” I hold up the phone like a proud parent. “See?”
Charlotte takes my phone and scrolls through the thread, frowning. “They're all the same, Jaxson,” she points out. "Every text you've sent, and every one she's sent back, is identical. Are you using an automated messaging app?"
“What?” I grab the phone and flick through the thread myself, staring at the same messages repeated over and over. I never really checked them before, so I hadn't noticed. But she's right. Melly's replies seem automated, too.
“When's the last time you actually spoke to her?” Larry presses.
I brush off my sudden unease. “I don't know. A while ago. Most likely before the season started.”
“October?” Charlotte asks incredulously.
“Probably more like September,” I admit, pushing my concerns aside once again as I slip my phone into my pocket.
“Geez.” Gerald drops his head and rubs his face. “You're in trouble. I hope we can keep a lid on things until the season ends, and your endorsements can be reassigned.”
“It's fine,” I say confidently, waving my hand. “I love my wife, and she loves me. We talked about everything, and she agreed to my terms.”
“Oh, shite!Yourterms?” Charlotte curses. “I thought you said that your open marriage agreement was mutual?”
“Yeah, she fought it for a few months, but when she understood how much I wanted it, she gave in.”
“Gave in?” Charlotte pales. “That's far from mutual.”
Thick with tension, the room falls deathly silent. The coach's mouth drops open. Larry, who's never short of burning sarcasm in any situation, lowers his head to the table and starts banging it quietly. Gerald is turning an unsettling shade of purple yet again.
I lean back in my chair, hands laced behind my head, feeling pretty confident. Melly eventually sawthings my way. Even though the texts sound a little rote, I shrug off the uneasy feeling in my gut. I'm not worried.
I scan the room, expecting the tension to ease, but they're all still staring at me like I've grown an extra head or something.
Standing to the side, Charlotte swallows hard, her throat working as if she's forcing the words out. “Jaxson, did you make your wife agree to an open marriage?”
I shake my head, a small, slightly smug smile tugging at my lips. “No, of course not.”
Everyone exhales at once, a shared sigh of relief easing the tension in the room.
“Sure, I might've threatened divorce if we couldn't make it work, but I didn't force her into it. She knew what was at stake and gave in,” I continue with a laugh.
Charlotte breaks the silence that follows. “Wait... gave in... divorce?” Her tone climbs with each word until she squeaks out the last one.
I grin, feeling like the cat that got the cream. “When I told her it was open marriage or divorce, she couldn't say yes fast enough. She loves me.”
Relief drains from the room with their collective gasp.
Charlotte stares at me like I didn't just steal the cream but also kidnapped the cat. Coach is gaping again and appears to be mouth breathing… or wheezing. Larry's head-thumping has reached a fevered pitch. Gerald's turning the deepest shade of violet yet, and his eyes are practically bulging.
Is he even still breathing? Geez, he needs to relax.
