Chapter 13 – Major Penalty
Cheap Shots
Christmas Morning
Jaxson
As I lie in bed, staring at my phone, it hits me that my obligatory text to Melly never went through this morning. I check again, frowning. The messages haven’t been going out for nearly a week. And now that I think about it, I haven't received a single text from her either.
At first, she texted constantly, but most of the time, I ignored her. Eventually, her messages became about mundane things, like home repairs or paying bills. Nothing personal. Now it's just replies to my daily texts.
I've been avoiding thinking about her altogether. Because doing so makes me feel homesick, I miss her. I'm ashamed of what I've done to us. If I can keep her out of my head, I can live with myself.
From the very beginning, I've stayed blitzed out of my mind to avoid reality. When I'm sober, I feel everything, and not being around her guts me.
Under pressure from friends and groupies, I decided to open my marriage for a while and live a little. But it wasn't what I expected. I still catch myself looking for her in the stands, but she's no longer there. She's not waiting in the tunnel after the games to congratulate me as we head home for our own private celebration.
This has become my coping mechanism: partying every night and waking up with Mandy beside me. But today isn't a typical day. It's Christmas. It's Mandy, and her friend, Tessa. I still can't believe Mandy brought Tessa with her. That's not her typical style.
How did I end up here, without Melly on Christmas? She's my family.
An ache I usually manage to drown with alcohol surges in my chest. Nausea rises in my throat, but I fight it back.
That's when I decide to do something I haven't done in months. I send Melly a real text.
Me:I miss you, Melly.
The message just sits there,Sent.I wait. She usually replies instantly, but this time, there's nothing. NoDelivered.No response. Just silence.
I type another one.
Me:I love you, Melly.
I hit send.
Still nothing.
My stomach clenches as an empty pit opens inside me. I call her.
It goes straight to a generic voicemail recording.
Leave a message. Beep.
I stare at my phone as I disconnect the call. The screen shifts to a photo of Melly and me, smiling at the camera, taken months ago.
Holy smoke show, she's beautiful. And she's so much more than the jersey chasers I've been wasting time with. What's wrong with me?
I drop the phone on my lap and blow out a breath. Pressing my hand between my pecs. What is this unrelenting pain? It can't just be missing her. It never used to feel like this. Not really. I stay busy drinking and chasing women to keep her off my mind.
So why is it all falling apart now? Why can't I shake this awful sinking feeling that my life is about to burn down?
My stomach twists as I bury my face in my hands, digging in until my cheeks and lips stretch uncomfortably. The pain is hollow and deep. I want to scream, but all I can do is gasp for air as it hits me like a freight train.
I desperately miss my wife.
And… I think she's either avoiding me or has blocked me.
Oh, no! No, no, no, no.I refuse to admit it. I can't. If this is true, everything I've done for the past four months is putting my marriage at risk. I'm living under the illusion that I want an open marriage. But I don't want this at all. I never should have asked for it. My wife is my one true love, and everything I'm doing could undermine our relationship.
