Page 74 of The One I Left Behind

She cringes. “I’m not sure you understand what you’re saying.”

“I want to make Clayton a big brother because I know he’ll be a great one.”

She grins. “Bingo! You win, Ben Noughton.”

My lips fall to hers, and I find myself not wanting to pull away but knowing I have to.

“But we have a lot of steps before any of that happens,” she says.

I turn the bacon over, not responding because I don’t mind speeding down the fast lane when it comes to Gillian. We can hit those steps one, two, three.

We finish making breakfast and sit down at her table for four.

“Coach Reyes loves Clayton,” I say, stabbing my eggs.

“He told me that.”

“He’s really good, Gill. Who did you say helped him out?”

“I didn’t.” She snaps a piece of bacon and eats it.

I frown. “Do you not want to tell me?”

She sits back in her chair, lifting her coffee to her lips. “No. I mean, it’s not a big deal.”

“You’re being vague.” I can’t imagine it being anyone I would care about. “I’m just curious because his hands are really good. And the way he reads the ball.”

Her shoulders sink, and she inhales a deeper breath, letting it go. “It was mostly one person, but a few others helped.”

I shake my head at how uncomfortable she is to tell me. He’s not my son. I’m not territorial about it. I can wait until she wants to tell me.

“Your dad. Jude and Emmett helped too.”

The air squeezes from my lungs, and my gaze falls to my full plate. “My dad?”

“You know how peewee football is around here. Your dad came to one of the games. I tried to help Clay, I did. But he was struggling. Barely getting time off the bench. This town is so damn serious about their football.” Her eyes well up, but she swallows it down. “I tried to get him to focus on a different sport, but football was always his favorite. Koa was never into football, and my dad was always working. I watched videos, but honestly, I just didn’t know how to help make him better. One day, your dad asked if I would mind, that he didn’t want to step on my toes, and I said yes.”

“My dad?” I ask again. I just never thought it would be him.

She sips her coffee and places the mug on the table. “I think he thought… well…”

“He was doing it because his son left you.” My chest aches, and I rub it with my palm.

She shrugs. “I’m not sure. He never said that. Maybe he was just doing it to be nice. Help the underdog kind of thing.”

My dad is a great guy. It’s probably a combination of both.

“And Jude and Emmett?”

“They’d help when it came to running drills. We’d go over there on Sundays, and they’d work while I cooked dinner as a thanks to them for helping Clayton.”

I push away my plate. “They never said anything.”

“Are you mad?” She bites her bottom lip.

I turn my attention to her. Am I? No. It’s just another thing to feel fucking guilty about, but I’m not putting my issues on Gillian. She wants us to move forward, and I do too. That doesn’t mean the guilt will ever leave me.

I shake my head. “I’m glad he got the help he needed. And I hate to admit it, but they did a great job. His fundamentals are unmatched out there on the field.”

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