Page 50 of Married to the Frenemy

“I remember,” I say quietly, swallowing hard.

Every time I saw them together when I was a kid, I couldn’t help but be jealous. I think that’s why I was often standoffish and rude to him as a young girl. My parents never played with me like Beckham’s parents did. Most of the time, my parents couldn’t be bothered to even acknowledge me, unless it was to order me around.

“When he got sick, Beckham lost part of that spark. Took his anger out on the world, as you remember.”

I give her another small nod, the lump in my throat tightening as a phantom ache shoots up my leg.

“For the longest time, I worried he’d let his past mistakes define him. Sure, he may have made some poor decisions, but haven’t we all? Don’t we all deserve a second chance to make things right?”

As I listen to her, my gaze drifts back toward Beckham, his intense eyes instantly locking on mine, as if drawn to me by some invisible force. It doesn’t matter that mere seconds ago, he was involved in an animated conversation with his brothers about the upcoming baseball season. Right now, all his attention is focused solely on me.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m grateful you found it in your heart to give him a second chance.”

“He’s a good man,” I manage to say through the heaviness weighing me down. “He deserves to be happy.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” She gives my hand a squeeze, then clears her throat, her voice turning bright. “Well, enough of this mushy stuff. I’m relieved Beckham found someone he can grow old with. And who will hopefully give me a few more grand-babies.” She gives me a playful waggle of her brow.

I laugh with her, but this entire conversation has left me feeling unsettled. Not simply because of the role I’m forced to play in lying and deceiving everyone.

But because there’s still a small part of me that hasn’t let go of my teenage dream of a happily ever after with Beckham Lawrence.

“Will you excuse me for a minute?” I ask, doing my best to mask the uneasiness in my tone. “I need to run to the ladies’ room. Do you mind keeping an eye on Maggie?”

“Of course.”

As I push back from the table and hurry inside the industrial-style building. I’m so lost in my thoughts, replaying Danielle’s words about growing old with Beckham, that I barely pay attention to my surroundings…

Until I turn the corner toward the restrooms and collide with a suit-clad body.

“I’m so sorry,” I begin, darting my eyes up.

When I do, I hitch a breath, a weight settling in my stomach as I’m met with a pair of familiar gray eyes.

Gray eyes that are nearly identical to those belonging to the little girl I’ve rocked to sleep every night for the past four years.

“Haley?” His voice is hesitant, almost disbelieving, as he repeatedly scans my figure.

This is the last place I ever thought I’d run into Oliver St. John. It’s not like I’ve been actively avoiding him. There’s no reason to. He ended things by throwing a wad of cash at me when I revealed I was pregnant. After all, he had a brand new wife at home, much to my surprise.

As the memories of our relationship return to the surface after nearly five years, the reality of Oliver being in the same place as Maggie sets in.

Protecting her from learning the truth is all I can focus on, and I whirl around, not giving him another moment of my time, even when he calls my name.

With quick steps, I rush toward the patio, barely acknowledging any of the locals I pass on the way. Their voices fade into the background as I emerge outside, met with the sound of children happily playing and boisterous conversation.

My eyes immediately find Beckham as he laughs with his brothers. But when he sees me, his expression drops. In a heartbeat, he’s on his feet, closing the distance between us.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” There’s a protective edge to his voice as his concerned gaze sweeps over me, looking for what could have caused my distress.

“I need to go,” I say urgently. “You can stay, but I need to take Maggie home. Can I have your keys?” I nervously shift from foot to foot.

“Hey. Slow down. What’s?—”

“I just ran into Maggie’s father,” I hiss under my breath. “He doesn’t know about her, and I’d like to keep it that way. So please just give me your keys.”

Without another word, he turns from me and bends to whisper something into Jude’s ear. His eyes briefly widen, then he gives Beckham a small nod before offering me an encouraging smile.

“I’ll get her,” Beckham tells me.

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