Page 20 of The Forever Play

When he no doubt realized that he’d just been gazing at his daughter. Is that why he’d been looking at her, because she was so familiar?

Lightly tucking a curl behind Zoey’s ear, I fight a sudden wave of tears. She does look like her daddy. I cansee it in her facial expressions sometimes. In the shape of her mouth. She might have my eyes, but she’s got his chin.

Sucking in a breath, I start packing away the blocks, needing something to do with my hands or I’m gonna lose it!

Zoey huffs and crouches down, collecting blocks and dumping them into the container.

Thank you, God!

We’re done in like two minutes, and I wink at her when she throws the last block in. “Good girl.”

She gives me a proud smile, then climbs up onto the couch. “Mommy come.”

Banging the cushion beside her, she beckons me while I murmur a soft “Please.”

“Peeeease.” She grins, and there goes my heart, melting all over again.

I sit down beside her, and she nestles against me. She’s so soft and adorable. I love her so much my chest aches. Kissing the top of her head, I unlock the iPad and set the twenty-minute timer, and then she opens her favorite game where she gets to match colors. When she gets one right, the game allows her to dress Juniper the giraffe.

“Red,” the iPad says, and Zoey’s little finger moves across the screen, putting the two red icons together. “Well done. Now you can put a red sock on Juniper.”

“Yay,” Zoey squeals and carefully considers which hoof she’s going to cover.

I brush my hand over the top of her curls and pull my phone out of my pocket.

Checking the screen, I don’t see any new notificationsfrom my parents, so I open an internet window and stupidly search for Nolan U Football. You know, because I’m tryingnotto think about my ex-boyfriend.

The first thing that pops up is the Nolan USports Digest: Football Edition. And who should be on the front cover but Zander Donohue himself.

My breath hitches, and I know I have to read the free e-mag whether it kills me or not. The interview comes with a collage of pictures that make me pine for what was lost. He’s so handsome it’s not fair. I love his little chin dimple. I love how sexy he looks holding a football. I love that smile on his face as he sits next to someone I assume is another football player. Reading his answers, it’s obvious this Football Frat place is filled with people he considers family.

I’m glad he’s happy.

No, you’re not! You wanted him to burn in hell, remember?

I cringe as that familiar wave of anger rides through me. I wish I could hold on to it but as I read the article, it won’t cling the way it should. It used to be a black tar that stuck to every surface of my heart, but all I can feel today is a painful, weeping ache. Like my heart is bleeding all over again. My forehead crinkles in confusion as I read his answer about riding the bench his sophomore year just so he could play at Nolan.

Irritation sizzles for a moment. He could have done that at Brighton College, but he chose Kelsey U instead so he’d get more game time. He could have lived thirty minutes down the road from me, but he chose a five-hour drive. He chose to break up with me because long-distance was too hard and… What the hell? He moved to Nolan to ride the bench?

Why!

A growl reverberates in my chest, and I nearly stop reading. But I, of course, can’t stop myself, especially when the interviewer asks him if he’s ready for some questions from their readers. This should be interesting.

I scan the first one and stop breathing, my eyes rereading his answer to the question about which celebrity he’d like to take out to dinner.

Taylor Swift?

Is he… kidding?

My mind jumps back to the passenger seat of his car as I sat there messing around with the stereo and forcing him to listen to my favorite artist. He tried to deny that he liked her music… at first, but I think I won him over.

There he goes, trying to deny it again. The interviewer is teasing him as he says he only hears it because she’s on the radio all the time.

Interviewer (laughing): You are a total Swiftie!

Zander: This girl I knew in high school adored her and forced me to listen to her music all the time. I guess it grew on me a little.

Interviewer: Which girl?

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