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“No!” she cried. The lie tasted like ashes in her mouth, but she couldn’t tell him. Not this way. “Dad, I’m not seeing anyone! She’s a friend who works at the club.”

“You two seem to be a bit more than mates in this.”

Jamie chanced a glance at the photo, and the fondness between them was fairly obvious. Small smiles, heady gazes, clasped hands. It screamed romance. And now it sent Jamie’s heart rate skyrocketing for all the wrong reasons.

Her father’s lip curled with disgust as he glared at her. “You know how I feel about this, Jamie.”

“I know, and it’s not what you think, I swear.”

Sweat trailed down the back of her neck. Moisture formed along her hairline too. Her fingers tingled the way they did when an anxiety attack was coming on. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to focus. She couldn’t have a panic attack in front of him. He wouldn’t stand for it.

“I—er—well,” she stammered. “I was comforting her. Just as a friend.”

“And does she see you that way? Just as friends?”

“I’m sure she does.”

“Good, because this shit is not okay. I understand there are a lot of queers in women’s football, but you mustn’t let them convince you that it’s normal, Jamie. It’s unnatural, it’s a sin, and I won’t allow it with my child.”

She swallowed down the sting of his words and nodded. Her legs were going numb as well, but she was afraid sitting down would make her appear weak. Or worse, guilty.

He heaved a sigh. “You had a good goal against Liverpool, but that cross in the twenty-third minute was shit. Work on that with your striker.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied dutifully.

“I’m gonna meet with your agent and work on getting this fucking photo taken down anywhere I’m able. Be more careful going forward. This speculation about your sexuality is distracting from your football.”

“I understand.”

Jamie hated how meek she sounded. She hated herself for diminishing Tessa yet again. So much for the progress she had promised. She told herself that next time she would set a boundary, she would tell her father as much of the truth as shecould. But the moment came, and she retreated into herself, meek as a mouse.

“Get on the pitch today, if you can. I’ll see you later.”

With that, he was gone. Jamie collapsed into her kitchen chair. Cradling her head in her hands, she tried to draw in air, only to find her lungs couldn’t fit it. Stuttering gasps overtook her and tears filled her eyes. She failed. She bent to her father’s anger the same as she always did.

With trembling hands, she grasped for her phone in her dressing gown pocket. She managed to dial Lila despite her shaking fingers. Lila picked up after two rings.

“Good morning, Jamie,” she said. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t—I can’t—” Jamie sputtered. “I can’t breathe.”

“Yes, you can, Jamie, I promise.”

“No, I can’t, it’s like—my lungs aren’t working. And I can’t feel my legs and my fingers feel like they’re asleep and I can’t stop shaking. Lila, Jesus Christ—”

“Jamie. You’re having a panic attack. I want you to breathe in and out with me, alright? Can you do it if I show you how?”

“Yeah. Alright.”

Lila inhaled through her nose, and Jamie followed suit, but found it shallow and lacking. Lila exhaled through her mouth. Jamie’s release came with a shudder.

“In and out. Breathe with me.” Lila’s voice was smooth and calming.

Jamie did as she instructed, and found that with each breath, it got easier. Finally, when Jamie was able to inhale and exhale without restraint, Lila told her she could breathe normally again.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“No,” Jamie said. “A picture of me with another woman got printed and my father stormed into my house furious about it.”