Page 49

AMELIA/CALEB

“Let’s go, Vipers!” Fans chant all around the stadium, vibrations rumbling through my chest and beneath my feet as we sit in the suite Caleb insisted we watch the game from.

Amir stands up to get a better view of the game. “Oh shit, look at Marcus.”

“Come on, Marcus,” I murmur quietly. “Get up.”

As the players help him off the ground, Marcus clutches the ball tightly as the speakers go crazy: “The ball is secured!”

“Yes!” Everyone screams his name, knowing Marcus and Caleb just brought the team closer to an easy touchdown.

Marcus pushes himself up, limping slightly toward the sidelines with help from the trainers. He can’t help but flash the crowd with his signature grin.

There’s a slight pause in the game for Marcus to get settled and I see Caleb jogging over to check on him.

Maya scoffs as she walks away toward the snack bar, relief apparent in her tone.

As the game resumes, the ball is back in Caleb’s hands, and everyone’s on the edge of their seats. They’re so close to the end zone, at the ten-yard mark.

Caleb scans the field one last time, looking for an opening. It looks like he’s going to throw the ball but he can’t afford to. He quickly tucks the ball and bolts forward, shifting his feet, dodging the oncoming defense.

The other players try to tackle him, but Caleb’s quick on his feet, bulldozing his way through. He’s nearly at the end zone… oh god, my heart is pounding.

The speaker shouts, “Caleb Hayes ran through and scored the winning touchdown, securing victory for the Vipers!”

The stadium roars and the stomping continues as we all chant. I stand up, cheering so loud as I watch Caleb’s team lift him in the air before putting him down to celebrate.

We make our way out of the suite and I jog across the field. “Congrats!” I squeal, jumping into his arms. He catches me with ease, his hands gripping my ass as he lifts me, hooking my legs around his waist and kissing me in ways that I’ll never grow tired from.

Flashes from cameras go off as reporters start shouting questions, congratulating him, and calling us a cute couple.

“Told you, you’re my lucky charm,” he says, smiling against my lips.

“Oh yeah? Good, because you’re stuck with me.” I chuckle, using my thumb to wipe my gloss off his lips, before he sets me on my feet again.

He grins, tugging the hem of his jersey. “Keep this on later.”

“I will.”

Caleb then freezes, his eyes shifting behind me. I glance over my shoulder.

Thomas Hayes.

My stomach drops, and I step back hitting Caleb’s chest with a small thud. Feeling awkward about our last encounter.

Thomas nods toward me. “Always a pleasure.”

“Hi.” I let out a nervous laugh but I can feel Caleb stiffen behind me.

His arm wraps around my waist. “Father,” he says, his tone cold.

“May I have a word with you, son?”

The tension is so thick between them and I don’t want to leave him but I also want to give him space to figure out what he wants for himself.

“I’ll meet you in the lobby, okay?” I turn to face him, lightly grazing his arm.

After a moment of silence, he nods reluctantly, pressing a kiss to my forehead before I scurry off.

I’m praying something good comes from this.

CALEB

“Amelia’s changed quite a lot since she was a kid,” my father starts, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

We’re in the press conference room before interviews begin so he’s got exactly thirty minutes to say whatever he needs to and then I’m out. I’m not exactly in the mood to go through this constant cycle with him.

“What is it now? Here to critique my throw again?” I retort, ignoring his remark. “Knock yourself out, you’ve only got thirty minutes.”

“That’s not why I’m here, Caleb.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “Or was I too distracted during the winning touchdown? Which one? It’s always the same shit.”

“I’m not here for any of that. I want to apologize,” he says sternly, meeting my gaze.

I stare at him and blink, thrown off guard. This man rarely apologizes, I think I’ve heard him say the words “I’m sorry” a handful of times and those were always reserved for Tia and my mom.

Never once directed at me, not even when I needed it. Those two words probably could’ve fixed a lot of things as a kid, maybe I wouldn’t have felt so worthless to him.

“I wanted to push you because that’s what I thought would make you the best. It’s what my father did to me as a child.

He never let up, waking me up at 5 a.m. every day to practice, yelling in my face to go over plays.

It didn’t matter if it was snowing or raining or if I had an injured foot and I hated him for that.

Never gave me the time of day unless it was on his terms. I swore if I ever had kids I’d never be like him, but here I am doing the same thing to you,” he says sheepishly.

“Your mother convinced me to go to therapy, once we got back from the trip.”

I let out a hollow laugh. “And you think telling me that changes anything?”

His shoulders tense.

“All those times you called me pathetic, a disappointment, and a failure?” My voice hardens.

“Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to hear you say that you were proud of me?

” My chest heaves as all the emotions come crashing in.

“I didn’t deserve half the shit you gave me.

I was just a kid trying to be enough for you.

I never had a fucking father. So don’t come in here acting like you’ve changed. ”

A tight knot forms in my chest.

“I deserve that.” He nods, pressing his lips together. “I wasn’t a father to you.”

I scoff under my breath. “And even then I’d still look up to you. It feels like I’m chasing something I’ll never get and all I’ve ever wanted from you was to love me like a son. That’s it.”

The words spill out of me and I can’t stop them. I’ve waited so long for him to treat me like the son he once held, the same one he stood beside, smiling as I blew out the candles on my sixth birthday. But, I can’t fucking remember any of it. Only the photos prove it ever happened.

Because by the time I was old enough to hold a ball in my hands, everything went downhill. There wasn’t any more love after that. All that was left were expectations. Yelling. Drills and critiques. And utter disappointment.

Sports were the only thing that ever mattered in his eyes but as I stare into them now… for the first time I see something different.

Regret.

He exhales, dragging a hand through his graying hair.

“I can’t change the past. But I want to do better and I will do better if you allow me.

I want to be a father to you again. I want to tell you I love you and how proud I am of you.

” He pauses for a second. “Because I am. I always have been, even if I had a shitty way of showing it.” He shakes his head.

“Not once did I tell you how well you were doing. How that throw you made against the Titans was one of the most impressive passes I’ve ever seen in my career. ” His throat bobs as he swallows.

My fingers twitch, squeezing my thumb in short pulses as I hear him say the words I’ve longed for. Every night, I’d come home from school wishing he’d give me something as simple as a damn high five for winning a game.

“But more than anything, what I’m most proud of is the man you’ve become. A better man than I ever was.” He meets my gaze, his eyes glossed over, pulling a chord deep inside me.

I swallow hard, hating how tight my throat feels. I should be angry and I am. But God, the kid in me has ached to hear those words for so long, it physically hurts.

“You can hate me. I get it and I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight or ever, but I will prove it to you,” he says hoarsely, voice thick with emotion. “I’ll let you get back to it and give you space. But I mean it, Caleb.”

My jaws tighten as I grind my molars together watching him slip out the door, leaving me here in the overwhelming silence as I process what the hell just happened.