Blind Side(57)

But tonight was the team auction.

It was her event.

And I knew it’d gut me to see her, to be around her, to even be in the same room.

It would kill me.

And yet I craved it.

It was sick and toxic, and I couldn’t discern good from bad anymore, not as I turned to each side and watched my reflection in the mirror, smoothing my hands over the all-black tux I’d rented for the night. I was as much of a mess as I had been when I’d left her at the observatory last week as I turned out the light and made my way out of the dorm, telling my roommate and teammate that I’d meet him at the stadium.

I needed to walk alone.

Fall greeted me as I strolled through campus, ignoring the looks I got from various groups of girls as I passed them. I kept my hands in my pockets, listening to the breeze through the trees and watching as more and more of the colorful leaves fell to the ground.

I would have been lying if I tried to tell myself, or anyone else, that my mom’s situation wasn’t adding to my stress. I’d talked to her every night, and it had been the same every time. She was wasting her days away drinking or doing God knew what else, her words always slurred and garbled through tears when we spoke.

And for the first time in my life, I not only recognized that I needed help.

I was prepared to ask for it.

Still, my chest was on fire as I pulled my phone from my pocket, thumbing through to Dad’s name. I tapped it before I could talk myself out of it, pausing at a bench by the campus fountain as the line rang.

“Son,” he greeted, his deep voice familiar in the aching kind of way. “Good to hear from you. Ready for the big game tomorrow?”

I paused, thrown off by his joy, by how unbothered and peaceful he was. He’d been that way ever since he left Mom.

Since he left us.

A whole new life greeted him on the other side of that divorce, one where I wasn’t sure I fit anywhere anymore. He had his window office in Atlanta, his giant house in the suburbs, his perfect lawn and perfect kids and perfect wife. Outside of football, we had nothing in common.

He didn’t know a single thing about me, not anymore.

“Providence is tough,” he continued when I didn’t answer, mistaking my silence for nerves about the game. “That offense is quick and crafty. But you’re a beast. You’ll give them hell. Be aggressive and don’t get lazy in the second half — that’s where they typically do the most damage.”

“I’m not worried about the game,” I finally said.

“Good. You shouldn’t be. You—”

“Mom needs help.”

I was surprised by the depth of my own voice, by how steady the words came from my throat. I knew it surprised my father, too, because he grew silent, clearing his throat after a long pause.

“Your mother is no concern of mine anymore.”

“Yeah, I know. You left her and your first son behind years ago.”

“Clay,” he warned, like I was out of line. That deep rumble of his voice made me pause, made the hair on the back of my neck stand up the way it always did before I tried something risky — like a new play on the field.

“It’s true and you know it. And you know what? It’s fine. Honestly, it is. I’ve gone on without you. We both have.”

“Without me?” he interjected. “Just who do you think helped pay for you to get out there to college in Boston? Who got your laptop and your moving truck and—”

“And who only calls me after a game? Who has nothing to talk to me about other than football? Who knows everything about my half-brothers and absolutely nothing about me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I—”

“Name one thing you know about me other than my position on the field. One. I’ll wait.”

My nose flared as I bit back the urge to keep going, as I fought to be silent enough to let my point sink in. And it did. I knew it did, because my father didn’t say another word.

“I don’t begrudge you,” I finally said, calmer. “I love you. I understand. I know how Mom can be… a lot,” I confessed. “And I know she wasn’t the right woman for you. But she needs help, Dad, and I can’t do it on my own.”

He blew out a sigh. “Let me guess — her fling of the week left her and now she’s a mess.”

“They were dating for months,” I clarified. “But yes. And he was taking care of her, and now she has no job and is surviving off what little money I can afford to send home.”

“Well, whose fault is that? She did this to herself.”

I shook my head. “She never knew this would be her life, Dad. It was supposed to be you taking care of her. You knew when you met her that she didn’t even graduate from high school. She never wanted a career. She wanted a family.” I paused. “She wanted you.”

“What she wanted was to gaslight me and control me and belittle me until I lost myself,” he barked at me. “Something you should know a little bit about after dating Maliyah, I’d imagine.”

My jaw tightened. “Don’t talk about her like you know her.”

“I might not have been there through everything, but I know that girl. I know her father. And I know enough to tell you that you’re a momma’s boy through and through, because you were even looking for her in the girl you wanted to marry.” He scoffed. “Thank God you dodged that bullet.”