Page 46 of Free Agent

I just wasn’t about to stay on that hamster wheel.

“It’s okay for you to not know if you’re okay,” Mama said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to pull me into her for a hug. “None of this is linear. It never is. That anger, the heartbreak… the grief.”

“I know,” I agreed. “It’s just such a strange feeling. He hurt me so deep, and I just… I don’t even want to think about it. I don’t want to hate him. I don’t want to be angry. I… want to go back to when there was nothing to grieve,” I admitted, unable to keep my voice from breaking over the words. “But I… I am angry, and I do think I might hate him, but I… I told him congratulations on the baby, and I meant it. Because I know how much he wanted that. And I guess there’s some part of me that still… wants him to have the things he wants. But why?”

“Because you love him.” Mama shrugged. “That doesn’t suddenly change just because you know the relationship is over.”

“I don’t want to love him anymore,” I whined, knowing exactly how ridiculous it was, but I didn’t care.

“I know, baby,” Mama assured, kissing the top of my head. “But there’s no going back. Only forward.”

I nodded.

She was right.

It hadn’t been long enough yet for my feelings surrounding all of this to not be complicated. Even when I admitted to myself that deep down, I’d known the relationship wasn’t viable for a while.

I wasn’t just dragging my feet on planning a wedding; I simply wasn’t planning a wedding.

Because however silly it may have been for me to put up with Monty’s bullshit as long as I did?

I knew better than to walk down that aisle.

It was bad enough figuring out what to do with myself with the current circumstances. To pick up the pieces of a failed marriage?

Would have been untenable.

So… yeah.

Only forward.

SEVEN

TATUM

I loved it when we played against an opponent that matched our energy.

Some people preferred the blowout game, where you didn’t have to worry about any back-and-forth, do-or-die type of energy, but personally I thrived on it.

Had it been a shaky season that would’ve made a less talented team a more desirable opponent?

Sure, but this was championship-level football, so it wasn’t going to come easy.

Hadn’t come easy.

We’d barely managed to make it this far, and now we were at a moment of truth.

The Blackwood Behemoths were very appropriately named.

Not just because of the sizes of their players, it was their reputation, their skill level, the competitive nature they brought to the field. Even in a good season for the Kings, the Behemoths were one of our most challenging opponents.

And this time around, they had a little vendetta.

I loved shit like that, too.

Aside from their genuine skill—creative defensive schemes, speed rushing, stamina, all that keeping me on my toes—they were also doing some dirty shit. Trying to pull off late hits on the quarterback, grabbing face masks, holding, egregious shit talking… nothing really new, but certainly notable for a team that was usually just all about playing some quality football.

I knew what it was about, though.

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