The Perfect Life (39 page)

“Mom, please listen to me. I promise I can explain everything, but not over the phone.” I paused, shuffling out of the way as several people passed by to the gate waiting area. “Look, I’m at the airport now, waiting for a flight so I can come there for a while, until everything dies down. Once I’m home, I’ll tell you everything, but I just wanted to check on you guys and let you know I’m on my way. When I have a definite flight, I’ll text you the info.”

She relayed what I said to my dad then got back on the phone. “What do you want me to say to the news-people who keep calling and asking for an interview? It’s crazy, Oliver. We can’t turn the TV on without seeing your face. What’s gonna happen with your job? Are you gonna move back home? What if her husband tries to kill you?”

“Stop with the dramatics, Ma. Come on. Just don’t answer the phone if you don’t know who it is, and don’t answer the door until I get there. I honestly have no idea what’s gonna happen with anything—her, my job—it’s all up in the air, but whatever happens, I’ll get through it. One day at a time. Just like we did with Dad. For right now, though, I need you to trust me and support me on this. Okay?”

“Okay, Ollie,” her voice softened. “I’m just worried about you. I get all Momma Bear when people talk bad about my kids, and I didn’t know what was going on, which made me freak out a little. But I do know you love her after the way you talked about her at Christmas, so you do whatever you think is the right thing. Your dad, your sisters, and I always have your back.”

Exhaling a sigh of relief, I whispered, “Thanks, Mom. I love you. I’ll text you soon.”

“Love you too.”

I disconnected the call and scanned the waiting area, searching for a place to sit where no one would pay much attention to me. The place was rather full, leaving only a handful of empty chairs for me to choose from. With my baseball cap pulled low over my eyes, I moved toward the one farthest from the main walkway and on the end of a row. The seat next to it was occupied by a little girl, maybe five or six years old, traveling with whom I assumed was her mom, both seemingly engrossed in their tablets. Figuring the child would probably pay me little mind, I sat down, offered a polite smile in their general direction without making eye contact, and then twisted my body away from them. With my legs angled toward the window, I kept my gaze focused low as I pretended to read a random book I’d snagged at the gift shop. The last thing I wanted was to be recognized as the guy who had destroyed Clutch Cassidy’s marriage, and if the Patriots ended up losing the Super Bowl, the guy who cost the city of Boston their championship. Especially while I was still
in
Boston, where they might’ve considered reinstating public flogging just for me.

Blankly staring down at the first page, I zoned out as I ran through the checklist in my mind of everything I needed to do, trying my best to keep the emotions at bay. The whirlwind of unexpected events that morning had turned my world upside down. From Seth’s wake-up visit, to sneaking out of Monroe’s house, then hastily throwing a bunch of clothes in a duffel bag and getting dropped off at the departure area, my brain was on autopilot, performing the necessary actions, but remaining emotionally numb throughout the process. I couldn’t allow myself to feel, because that most likely would’ve led to a meltdown of epic proportions, and that helped no one.

“I want ice cream, Mommy. Can we go get it now?” I heard the little girl say, but didn’t pay much attention as my phone vibrated in my pocket, alerting me of an incoming text. Hopeful it would be from Monroe, now that I knew she had gotten a replacement phone, I hastily fished it out and read the message.

Allison: I just spoke with Monroe, so I’m up to speed on everything. I’m flying out to Boston ASAP to see how I can help. You take care of yourself right now, and we’ll talk later.

Unsure how to interpret her tone, I started to type out a reply, but my phone buzzed again.

Allison: And in case you’re stressing, I’m not upset with either of you, nor am I really surprised, but Mending Hearts has to remain my top priority, and right now, it’s a mess. I’ve got nearly fifty kids depending on me to act in their best interest. I’m praying it works out for all of us.

A small portion of me relaxed after reading her second message, finding some comfort in knowing that my boss and mentor didn’t completely hate my guts for jeopardizing everything she’d worked her entire adult life for. I must admit I wasn’t so sure I would’ve been as understanding as she was, but I was thankful nonetheless.

Me: Thank you. I’ll keep you updated with where I am and anything of note as this plays out. At airport now, headed to my parents.

Dropping my phone back in my pocket, I returned my gaze to the book and stared at the words
Chapter One
for I don’t know how long, lost in thought about how Monroe was holding up, wishing I was there with her. As much as I’d grown to like and respect Seth in the short amount of time we’d spent together, I couldn’t help but think it should’ve been me there comforting her through that tumultuous day, not to mention I felt a little bit like a pussy not manning up and confronting Colin myself.

A sudden gasp followed by an icy cold sensation on my thigh startled me from my thoughts, and instinctively, my eyes snapped over to my leg to see what had happened. Before my brain could make sense of the frozen orange blob sitting atop my jeans, I got a whiff of the intoxicating citrus scent that made my heart swell and my stomach flip. The scent that I wanted to smell on her skin every night when I fell asleep and the same one I wanted to wake up to each morning when I rolled over and buried my face in her pillow, trying to drown out her terrible singing while she dressed.

Cutting my attention over to the small child with big brokenhearted tears rolling down her cheeks and an empty orange creamsicle container in her hands, I smiled for the first time all day. A real, true, honest-to-God smile.

The one thing I had been praying for all day was a sign, some sort of direction on what the right thing to do was. For her. For me. For
us
.

And the answer had literally just fallen into my lap.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to,” she sniffled.

“No worries, princess. Nothing that can’t be fixed,” I said softly as I grabbed my wallet, pulled out a five-dollar bill, and handed it to her. It was the least I could do, since God had sacrificed her treat to show me my path. “Luckily, I’ve got a change of clothes in my bag here, and you can take that to go get another ice cream, if your mom says it’s okay.”

As she twisted around to ask her mom’s permission, I stood up and grabbed my duffel, not caring in the least that I had an amoeba-shaped wet spot on my pants. The girl and her mother both thanked me and apologized, and again, without meeting either of their gazes, I told them it was no big deal and excused myself to change. And eventually, I did . . . once I was safely back in my apartment that gratefully still hadn’t been discovered by the outside world, a mystery I could only assume was because the lease was in Allison’s name and not mine.

After calling my mom back to tell her about the change of plans, I decided not to alert Monroe or Seth right away about my decision to stay. I wasn’t quite sure what my plan was yet, but I knew I needed to be in Boston for whenever it was revealed to me. So while I waited, I made myself a bowl of Captain Crunch and chocolate milk and watched Grease for the 28,517
th
time, confident my Rizzo would be next to me for the 28,518
th
.

“I thought

as the sun

lifted once

more from

the sea,

of how truly

heartbreaking

it is that we

all feel so heavy,

and yet,

somehow,

so damn

empty.”

–Christopher Poindexter

Monroe

I COULDN’T STOP
staring at the clock on the microwave, the numbers displaying a countdown on a ticking time bomb. Colin was due to walk through the door at any minute, and I was a fucking wreck. I had no idea what to expect, what he was going to say. When Seth had called and woken him up with the news of everything, preparing him for what awaited him once he left his hotel room, Colin had refused to speak to me, telling Seth it was best if he had some time to cool down and work through his anger first. Although it stung, I couldn’t blame him much. He’d been blindsided by the entire thing and was probably in a state of shock.

“You still haven’t heard back from the security company?” Seth asked, glancing over his shoulder at me from where he stood at the stove, cooking tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for us. I’d told him repeatedly I wasn’t hungry, knowing if I tried to put anything in my mouth, it would only come right back up. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I didn’t have the energy to argue with him.

I looked down to the kitchen island at the replacement phone Seth had picked up for me when he’d snuck Oliver out earlier, ensuring I hadn’t missed a call, then shook my head. “No, not yet.”

The representative had said it would take some time for them to review the feed, but I thought we’d have definitely heard something after almost four hours and have at least something positive to tell Colin when he arrived. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

“What about Oliver? Any update from him?” he probed.

Sighing, I pulled up the text history. “The last message he sent was that he was at the airport on standby for the next flight to St. Louis to go talk to his parents. He said the security officer did a double-take when he checked his ID, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he recognized his name, or how different he looks without a beard and with his hair pulled up in a hat. Other than that, he hasn’t been recognized.”

“Good,” Seth nodded, “though I’m sure it won’t take the vultures long to find him, if they’re not waiting on him already.”

I shuddered at the thought of the paparazzi stalking Oliver and his family. He didn’t deserve this. They
didn’t deserve this. I never meant for anyone to get hurt; I just fell in love and became blind to everything else. I acted selfishly, and now others were paying the price.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I whispered for at least the hundredth time that morning, rubbing my fingers in tiny circles against my throbbing temples. “What have I done?”

Shooting me a warning glare, Seth plated the food, carried it over to the island, and plopped down on the barstool next to me. “You gotta stop with the blame thing, Roe,” he scolded in a fatherly tone. “What’s done is done. There’s no changing it. Plus, you didn’t do anything wrong, nothing that Colin hasn’t done. You were inside your own home. Now, we need to focus on what we can do to move forward.”

“There’s nothing we can do!” I exclaimed, growing exasperated with his stay-positive attitude. “I’m a prisoner inside this house. There are now over ten uniformed police officers staked out around the property to keep the thousands of reporters and photographers from nearly sieging the place. I’m scared to death to turn on the television or get online to see what other pictures are floating around out there. Whoever took these didn’t just get one shot while they were there. And Lord knows they’re all ready to burn me at the stake with a scarlet A around my neck. At least not until Colin comes home or we hear something from the surveillance people. And meanwhile, I just have to sit here and worry if Oliver and his family are safe. Oh, and let’s not forget there’s a thirteen-year-old girl lying in a coma, fighting for her life at Boston Children’s, who needs me more than anything right now!”

Before he had a chance to respond, the sound of a disturbance outside caught our attention and we simultaneously stood up and moved to the living room, where we’d closed all of the shutters and drapes, to hear better through the walls. The chorus of muffled shouts and ruckus grew louder and louder until the front door flew open and Colin stepped inside the house. And he was pissed.

Slamming the door, he glowered at both me and Seth, nostrils flaring. “Do you have any idea what I just went through to get home?” he roared, dropping his duffel bag on the tile then stalking toward us. “A police escort! I’ve had a police escort from the moment I left my hotel room this morning because of all of this. This is insanity. My phone has rang nonstop since I woke up, and they’re not calling to congratulate me about the game yesterday. My parents are freaking out, and the team . . .” He stopped right in front of me, pinning me with his furious gaze, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve finally reached my ultimate goal of being a starting quarterback in a Super Bowl, and now, instead of being able to enjoy any of it, I’m gonna spend the next two weeks fielding questions about you sleeping around behind my back. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”