Page 36

Chapter 35

Lily

T yler’s plane was scheduled to land forty-five minutes ago. I’ve watched the clock nonstop in anticipation of him getting home.

I texted him this morning when I woke up, thinking he would get it when he did, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t text me last night either, and that’s not normal for him. I’m worried. He left acting strange, although he said he was fine, and now with the silent treatment, my stomach aches. I might have known Tyler for a long time, but I don’t know everything, including how he takes it when his team loses.

When the truck finally pulls in, I get up and go toward the kitchen to greet him. I know it was only two days, but I missed him. I missed him so much.

The door creaks open, and he comes in. He’s dressed in slacks and a short-sleeved collared shirt that clings to his arms and chest, and he looks rumpled. Rumpled, tired, and . . . angry.

He can’t still be this angry over the game, right? He’s lost plenty of games over the years, and I vividly remember that Lance and Dean were like it happens, learn from it, and move on . So that’s not what this is, is it?

“What’s wrong?” I ask him, suddenly anxious and alarmed. I move to go to him, but he holds up his hand, and I freeze.

Oh my God, he’s mad at me. I have no idea what I’ve done either. I’ve been here since he left and haven’t really spoken to anyone.

Walking past me, he takes his suitcase to the base of the stairs, where he sets it down and then he moves into the kitchen so the island separates us.

“Are you okay?” My voice is shaky, as now I’m about to crawl out of my skin.

He still doesn’t answer me. Instead, he licks his lips and then rolls them between his teeth.

“Tyler, talk to me.” I’m not past pleading, begging, whatever it takes to get him to finally talk to me.

“I don’t know what to say,” he says, running his hand over his face. There’s exhaustion pouring off him.

“Why? What happened?”

“I don’t know what happened, Lily. I think that maybe you and I have different ideas about what this is.” He places both hands flat on the island and levels me with an indecipherable look.

My heart pounds. “What what is?”

“This.” He waves his hand back and forth between us.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask, wrapping my arms around my middle.

He tilts his head as he studies me. “I don’t know, did you?”

His tone has the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. This is definitely about me. Pausing, I stare at him as I think about every moment over the last week and when I might have done something to upset him. He started acting strange after the day on the boat. Maybe he didn’t like how forward I was with him. I thought he did, but maybe he’s more of the take-charge type of guy. For the rest of the week, I cooked us food, we fell into our routine, and Saturday morning came when he left. I just don’t know.

“Tyler, I’m not a child. Do not speak in riddles. If I did something and it’s bothering you, tell me.”

Instead of answering, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone. He taps a few things until he finds whatever it is that he’s looking for and then slides it across the island to me.

“What is that?” I ask him.

But he still doesn’t answer. He wanders past the kitchen to look out the door that leads out back.

I grab his phone, but before I can look at it, he blurts out, “Are those flowers?”

“Yes. I put them outside so they wouldn’t bother you. Is that okay?” His hands are down by his sides and both of them curl into fists. I look at him for a beat longer, and it’s then that I glance down and see my social account pulled up and a picture of his boat.

“What in the . . .?”

I read the post and swipe through the pictures, and with each one, my stomach drops further and further. The line says, “Living the life,” and then underneath it are thousands of likes and hundreds of comments.

People already knew that I was in Tampa based on other things that I’d said, but now they are feral, excited, and curious.

Oh no.

Tyler loves his privacy. While he’s okay with pictures that are posted of him at games or even randomly out and about, he made it very clear that his personal life was never to be shared. I told Morgan this the day I told her I was staying with Tyler. She laughed about the rules. Did she think he wasn’t serious? I don’t know. I just can’t believe she didn’t ask me first. And now given that I’m about to go public with my face, everyone will know these things belong to him.

“Tyler, I didn’t do this. You know Morgan runs my social accounts for me. I can assure you it must have been a lapse in her memory because I told her no photos. I’m so sorry.” My words crack as I’m trying to catch my breath. He’s so upset, and this hurts my feelings so badly. I feel betrayed by Morgan, but she never does anything malicious. She had to have just forgotten.

He ignores what I’ve said as he turns to face me. Everything about him is tense. He’s so upset, and then he says, “Is that what you tell people? That you’re living the life. It feels so fucking superficial and not like who I thought you were. You went from one cushy situation to the next. Is that your end goal?”

My end goal.

What is he talking about?

I thought he was my end goal. Not because he’s a football player but because he’s Tyler. Someone who’s come to mean more than anything to me.

My eyes well with tears.

“I have never said this to anyone.”

The tension lining his forehead and jaw drops as he frowns at me. He takes a few steps forward and snatches his phone out of my hands and shoves it into his pants pocket. “Funny, I ran into two fans in the elevator at the hotel in Seattle who said they spoke to you at last week’s game, and you said exactly that. This was before I saw your post.”

Immediately, I know who he’s talking about.

My racing heart thrashes in my chest. “Tyler, I didn’t say that. They did. I just agreed with them.”

“Why would you do that?” He shakes his head like he’s disappointed.

“Are you kidding me?” I scoff and take a step backward, needing to put some distance between us. “You know firsthand how it is. Don’t engage. Be cordial and kind. I just agreed with what they said. Like I would ever open up about my life to strangers, and even if I did, it wouldn’t have mattered. Those two had pigeonholed me into this very specific image, and it didn’t matter what I said. They weren’t going to change their minds.”

“Why were you talking to them in the first place?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

My jaw drops.

“Last week’s game was a shit show, in case you forgot. Everyone under the sun tried to talk to me after that little fifty-yard sideline show you and Dean put on two weeks ago. Why didn’t you just walk away? Why did you talk to him? Seems like a lot of the noise that’s circulating right now could have been avoided. Including this conversation you apparently had in an elevator.”

“The timing of it all just seems very coincidental,” he says, looking me over.

“What does that mean?” I ask him, glancing to see what I’m wearing. Of course it’s one of his Tarpons T-shirts. I didn’t think anything of it when I grabbed it out of the dryer, except the fact that it was his, and I wanted to be closer to him, even if it was just a shirt.

“Are you excited for your grand reveal?” he hisses through his teeth.

“Is that what’s really bothering you? Me deciding to go to my book signing? Because this attitude started before you left, and I had no idea what I’d done wrong.”

“Well, at least you admit to doing something wrong.”

Who is this person standing in front of me? Where is my sweet and kind friend? What did I do to make him really think these things about me? And why does this somehow feel like déjà vu, but it hurts so much more?

Hurt and fury bleed together as adrenaline leaks into my veins. This very much feels like a fight-or-flight moment, and as much as I want to run away, I will never again allow a man to make me feel like I’m less. I’ll admit this post Morgan put up isn’t good, but I didn’t do anything wrong.

“Have I borrowed money from you? Have I used who you are to advance anything about myself? Have I asked for anything? You know damn well that I would never say anything like that intentionally. Next to Morgan, you’ve known me longer than anyone else. Yet I’m standing here having to defend my character, and it feels like this is becoming a repeat of my life with Dean all over again.” A laugh barks out of me. “My grand reveal. Are you going to tell me that if I go to the book signing next week, and show people who I really am, that my success will now be because of who you are? Your arrogance right now is really not attractive.”

“Arrogance? Look around, Lily.” He throws his arms out. “This is my house. I’m not the one who showed up on your door begging for a place to stay. You could have gone anywhere, yet you chose another professional football player's house.”

“I wasn’t begging for a place to stay. Lance said you wouldn’t care. How was I supposed to know you would? I thought to myself, here’s a nice opportunity from someone I’ve known for a long time. I’ll take him up on the offer while I figure out what’s next. I thought it would be nice to spend some time with you. I thought you were enjoying your time with me, at least that’s what you said just a few days ago. I guess I was wrong.”

The adrenaline in me has forced everything outside of my heart to go numb. I can’t feel my fingers or my toes. It’s the cracking of my chest wall as I feel embarrassed and ashamed for all of the dreams, concerns, and myself that I shared with him. He thinks I was being fake. He thinks I was setting him up to further myself. He thinks I’ve manipulated him when I’ve done nothing of the sort.

I thought it would be nice to spend some time with him, but I also thought I’d be safe here. I’ve been putting new plans in place for myself and my career. I've been getting up the courage to reenter the world by going outside, to his games, and showing my face without fear of being recognized or judged, that I never thought it would happen inside. Inside these walls. Slowly, I look around the living room, and then my gaze falls on the blue light of the fish tank. Immediately, I find my blue-and-yellow-striped one. It’s staring at me like it knows something is wrong. It’s staring at me like it knows my heart is breaking. It’s staring at me because it knows this is the beginning of the end.