Happenstance(67)

Of course we are arriving at the same time.

For the same woman.

I devour the sight of her through the glass, nearly ripping the hinges clean off my car in order to get out. You’re going to overwhelm her. Slow down.

It’s not easy to temper myself, however. I saw her speaking to my mother at the stadium. I don’t know how it happened. Nor do I understand how she knew to encourage me to leave the ticket one more time. Or the circumstances of their meeting. But I am positive Elise encouraged my mother to walk into the stands and sit down. Her very first game of mine—ever. For that,

Elise will never fully understand the depth of my gratitude. I don’t think she has a single clue that there is magic surrounding her. She weaves it everywhere she goes. Tobias is a different man since meeting her. More humble, empathetic. Gabe doesn’t stare at the ground anymore. He looks us in the eye. And now, she’s helped bridge a gap between me and my mother. The meeting between the four of us is starting to feel less like happenstance and more like fate. Some inevitable providence that none of us saw coming.

Again, I realize I’m storming toward her with barely leashed desperation and worry, and I forcibly slow myself down. This is what I’ve been doing since the beginning. Moderating myself in every moment that we’re not intimate. Making her safe, physically and emotionally. Trying to give her an avenue of escape, because I know it’s what she needs not to feel cornered. Pressured. Even if I have the urge to crowd her sometimes.

Inhale her.

I’m a selfish man. But I’m learning to be unselfish with her. For her.

For them, too, now, I guess. I’ve evolved to fit.

Outside of my car now, I catch sight of Gabe in the driveway where he’s obviously been waiting, barefoot and shirtless in sweatpants that appear to be covered in floor stain. In my life before the tram, I probably never would have known this man. Or had a reason to speak with him, but there is no getting around this sense that we’re a team now. Our opponent is anything that makes Elise unhappy and I can’t stress how drastic that purpose feels. It’s like an iron sitting on my chest at all times—and it’s not just my burden. I can almost feel Tobias and Gabe carrying the same heaviness. It’s why I have no choice but to share her.

To be one of three, instead of her only one.

I don’t know if the instinct to edge out my competition for her attention will ever fully go away—winning is too deeply ingrained in me—but the edges of that instinct are dulling in the face of what she clearly needs.

We converge on her in the middle of the street, our hands everywhere. Whispering comfort to her. It’s insane. This behavior, this relationship. All of it. But I’ve never experienced anything better in my life. Not when I was named the head coach of the Flare. Not when we won our first championship. Not ever. Nothing compares to her going limp in between us, confident that we won’t let her fall.

She buries her face between Gabe’s pecs and he immediately begins crooning to her, petting her hair. Her fingers slide into mine and squeeze. Tobias, of course, has her rear end parked in his lap—but he doesn’t appear as smug as usual. No, we lock gazes over the top of Elise’s head and I can see he is clearly shaken, like me. Like Gabe.

“Who fucked with you?” Gabe demands to know. Then to us, “Who fucked with her?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” I say, bringing her hand to my mouth and kissing her knuckles. “Did you meet with the police?”

“Yes.” A muscle ticks in Tobias’s cheek. “But nothing was missing, so they left rather quickly.”

“Nothing was missing?” Gabe echoes. “I don’t understand.”

“Actually…” Elise takes a deep breath. “Something was missing.”

Across the street, one of the neighbors is watching the three of us comfort Elise with his mouth open, garden hose forgotten in his hand, water splashing all over the sidewalk. “We should go inside.”

“Tram Fam is on the move,” Tobias says into a fake headset.

We remain crowded around Elise all the way to the front door, like a pack of security guards protecting a Kardashian. When we get inside, Gabe’s house is exactly as I expected it to be. Cement and paint splattered work boots are discarded in the mud room. The sound of television sports emanates from the back of the house, the furniture is beat up, functional brown leather. It smells like a combination of microwave meals and aftershave, the latter of which is so fresh, he must have splashed it on right before he got here.

Fair enough. I reapplied deodorant while speeding over the Queensboro Bridge.

I’m sure Tobias checked his hair eighty times in the rearview.

We’re all fucked for this girl.

“Gabe…” She bestows an incredible smile on him. “I love your house.”

“Move in,” he blurts, his face immediately turning the color of a stoplight.

She laughs and my reaction to her amusement is like having the wind knocked out of me. I forget how to breathe for a second. I’ve been hit with her being in danger and that laugh, all in the space of a couple of hours, and it’s leaving me unbalanced.

In need of her balance.

I swallow a croak of her name.

But it’s almost like she hears it anyway, her eyes tripping over to me. “I want to explain now. I just need to get it out, okay?”