PART 3 – CHAPTER 157
LUKE
I pull up to the driveway in the Maserati, the engine’s growl cutting through the quiet neighborhood. I’m early–figured I’d give myself some time to clear my head before facing everyone.
Philly may have given me a fat contract, but my head’s still a mess. Contracts aren’t finalized, and I haven’t even played a damn game for them yet.
I cut the engine and sit there for a second, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white. What the hell am I even doing here? Josh’s birthday or not, I don’t belong in this place anymore.
Not after everything that’s happened.
Not after what I did to Jess or my mother.
A sharp whistle pulls me out of my thoughts. I glance up to see Josh standing at the front door, arms crossed, grinning like an idiot as he eyes the car. He walks toward me, whistling again.
“Nice wheels, bro. Philly seems to be paying well even though you haven’t played one game for them,” he teases, his voice light, but I can tell there’s more beneath it. There always is with Josh.
“You know what they say, about guys who drive flashy cars, right?” Josh wiggled his brows, “Makes up for lacking in a different department.”
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“Fucking asshole. You know I don’t lack fuck anywhere.” I laughed, getting out of the car.
I slam the door shut, the sound echoing down the street. For a second, I just stare at him, the kid who was once my shadow, now all grown up, looking every bit the linebacker he’s become.
Josh steps up to me and claps a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. “You should talk to her, man,” he says, his tone shifting. The teasing is gone, replaced with something serious. “He’s moved out.”
I feel the words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I don’t react. I‘ ve gotten good at that–keeping it all buried deep. It’s the only way I know how to survive. I shake my head, jaw clenched tight.
“I fucked up her life, Josh. It’s not my place,” I say, the words like sandpaper against my throat. “She’s better off without me.”
“No. She’s better off without your asshole father.”
Josh just shakes his head, his expression softening like it does when he’s trying to talk sense into me. “You plan on telling her you bought the house before it went up for auction?”
I freeze for a second, the words settling heavy between us. He knows. Of course, he knows. Josh has always seen right through me.
I grit my teeth and shake my head, looking away. “No,” I say harshly. “She deserves to live without any guilt. She deserves happiness.”
Josh steps closer, his voice quieter but just as firm. “So do you, man.”
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I snort, shrugging him off as I take a step back.
“I’m the one who should be telling you to pull your head out of your ass, not the other way around,”
Deflect. My newfound talent.
For a second, I just stare at him, feeling the weight of everything between us. We’ve been through hell and back together–fights, laughter, wins, losses–but this feels different.
Before I can say anything, Josh steps forward and pulls me into a tight hug, his grip strong and unshakable. “Missed you, man.”
I hesitate for a second before hugging him back. It’s awkward at first, but then it feels like old times. Like maybe some things haven’t changed, even though everything else has.
“Missed you too,” I mutter, letting my guard down for a split Second. But even as I say it, my mind drifts back to her. To Jess.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop thinking about her. Waiting for her to walk out of the house. The way she used to laugh, the way she’d look at me like I was more than just this angry asshole with too much baggage. And now? Now she’s gone, and I’ve only got myself to blame.
Josh pulls back and slaps me on the back, grinning again. “You‘ re staying for the party, right? Don’t be an asshole and disappear.”
I nod, forcing a smile: “Yeah, I’ll stay.“:
But even as the words leave my mouth, I know I won’t stick
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around long. I’m just here for Josh. To see if there’s any way to fix things between us, even if I can’t fix anything else.
As we walk toward the house, Josh keeps talking, something about the team, about training, but my mind is miles away. Back with her. With Jess.
The truth is, I bought that house for her because I couldn’t stand the thought of her losing it. But she doesn’t need to know that. She doesn’t need to carry the weight of what I’ve done.
She’s got enough to deal with.
She deserves better. And maybe, someday, I’ll learn to live with that.
For now, all I can do is pretend like I’m okay with it. Pretend like I’m not tearing myself apart every time I see her face in a magazine or hear her name.
Because that’s what I do. I bury it deep. I lock it away. And I keep moving.
No matter how much it fucking hurts.
