Page 72 of Reality With You (Arden Beach #1)
Dylan couldn’t believe he was pulling that card. The betrayal stung—a slap in the face to a relationship he’d thought was built on mutual trust and respect. But apparently, at the end of the day, Dylan was just another asset to him.
Dylan’s expression hardened. “Then, I’ll file for a mental health leave.
” Eddie huffed a quiet, patronizing laugh, but Dylan didn’t flinch.
“My psychologist will sign off on it. They’ve been seeing me for panic attacks.
Per the league’s rules, you’ll have no choice but to put me on the injured list for anxiety. ”
Eddie stared at him in disbelief. Like he was looking at a stranger. They both seemed to be—or maybe they were truly seeing each other for the first time.
“Then, I guess we’re done here,” Eddie said, devoid of warmth. He piled the papers into the folio and snapped it shut, then strode out of the room. He dropped the folio in Gabe’s hands as he blew past him, who proceeded to rush after his boss.
Dylan fisted a hand, releasing a long breath through his nostrils. Despite knowing he was making the right choice—or at least, he hoped he was—it killed him to let down someone he cared about, and for that person to likely think differently of him for it.
His father continued staring out the window. Silent.
“Are you going to say anything, or did Eddie already say it all for you?” Dylan asked. He braced himself for the next blow. It would cut even deeper coming from Rhett. He’d feared a moment like this his whole life, but now, he was prepared to deal with the fallout.
Rhett turned, hands still on his hips, and fixed his stern glare on Dylan.
As always, his expression was stoic, but the disapproval emanated from him like a force of its own, disturbing the air around them.
Something about how he held his shoulders, and his mouth pinched at the corners.
Dylan had seen it on the field when players messed up a play, or the umpire made a bad call, or Dylan was struggling to execute his technique correctly on an off day.
Dylan kept his head up and spine straight, bracing himself.
“I believe in doing everything it takes to win,” Rhett finally said, his voice like a crunch of gravel.
“I wouldn’t have gotten where I am today if I didn’t.
But you can’t win this game if your heart isn’t in it.
” He paused, and Dylan’s brow slowly drew together, watching his father with uncertainty.
“I can’t say I understand where you’re coming from, son, because I don’t.
It’s not how I operate. But you’re your own man.
I respect your right to make your own decision. ”
Dylan stared at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Eddie’s wrong. It’s not on you,” Rhett continued. Some of the tension eased in Dylan’s chest. “If the team falls apart without one player, then something else is broken.”
It was hard to tell with his father, but he sensed his disappointment didn’t extend solely toward him. It pointed inward, too.
“If anyone can fix it, it’s you. But I think you have to start by listening to the team,” Dylan said, hoping he’d take his suggestion about Diego seriously. “They need to know they’re supported, too.”
Rhett didn’t say anything. Only gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.
Dylan wasn’t sure if it was approval, disapproval, or somewhere in between.
“I need to talk to Eddie, see what the game plan is now.” He crossed the room to the door.
As he set a hand on the long, metal handle, he stopped. Dylan turned to look at him, waiting.
After a long pause, Rhett looked back, his expression unusually pensive. “You’re a lot like your mom. She’d be proud.”
With that, Rhett left the room.
Dylan sat in the parking garage, staring at his sunroof. Any feelings he’d kept at bay during the meeting surfaced in the dark, quiet privacy of his vehicle. Relief and guilt came tightly intertwined.
The burden he’d put on others saddled him with a weight he couldn’t shed. He wouldn’t be able to numb it. Wouldn’t be able to outrun it. But what he could do was make peace with it.
Little by little, he would make peace with it.
His phone chimed with a text message. Dread snaked through him until he saw the name attached to it.
Lennon: Are you still free for dinner?
A surprised smile pulled at his lips, some of the tension in his body evaporating.
Dylan: I am
Dylan: In fact, I’m free all evening. I’m not going to the meeting with the board
Lennon: Why?
Lennon: Tell me you aren’t taking Nolan’s deal
Dylan: I’m not. I’m not taking anyone’s deal. I need to prioritize other things for a while
Nothing came through for several seconds. He waited, staring at the screen until three dots signaled her typing.
Lennon: I know that couldn’t have been easy to do. I’m proud of you
Pressure mounted behind his eyes. He swallowed it back.
Dylan: That means more to me than you know
He hadn’t realized how much he needed that. And how much it would mean coming from her. It didn’t eliminate the weight, but it made it a little easier to carry. He rested his head back, releasing a full-body sigh.
A soft ping brought his attention back to his phone.
Lennon: Meet me at our secret place
A sly grin spread across his face. Three dots appeared, then another message a second later.
Lennon: See you soon (if you remember it…)