Page 93 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
My voice drops lower. "I thought staying meant doing the right thing. I thought sacrificing what I wanted - who Iwanted -was the price I had to pay to be a better man. Honestly, if it weren’t for that reason, Ineverwould’ve made that choice."
She exhales sharply, arms tightening around herself. But she doesn’t say a word.
And that silence? It kills me.
Her voice is quieter now when she finally speaks. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”
I swallow hard.
“You had months, Blake.” Her voice wobbles, but her expression is firm. “Months to tell me. To explain. But you didn’t.”
“How could I?” My voice is rough, unsteady. “I couldn’t face you, Whitney. I couldn’t…” I let out a harsh breath, dragging a hand down my face. “I couldn’t get the look on your face out of my head. The way you looked at me that day…, when I introduced her as my girlfriend to everyone.”
Her breath stutters.
“On the day we planned to tell Keith about us,” I murmur, my chest aching at the memory.
Her hands curl into fists at her sides, but she stays silent.
“I just…, I just…!” My voice breaks, my hands clenching at my sides before I let them fall, defeated. “I am sosorry, Whitney.”
Taking her cold hands in mine, even though the room is warm, I squeeze them lightly. Her lips part slightly, but she doesn’t speak.
I move closer, my heart pounding, my voice quieter now. “I’m sorry for the way things ended. For not telling you the truth. For making you feel like you weren’t enough when you were…” I inhale sharply. “You were everything.”
Her breath catches.
“I need you, Whit,” I say, desperation bleeding into my voice. “I have always needed you.”
She squeezes her eyes shut like she doesn’t want to hear this.
I shake my head, stepping in front of her now. “I know I don’t deserve it. I know I messed up. And God, I know - I’m the reason you left.” My voice cracks, and I don’t even care. “But please, Whitney. Give me a second chance.”
She stays silent, her breathing uneven, eyes searching mine. “And what am I supposed to do with this now?”
“Please.” My voice drops to a whisper. “Just tell me it’s too late if that’s really how you feel. Tell me you don’t feel anythinganymore, and I swear I’ll leave you alone.” I swallow hard. “But if there’s even a chance, even the smallest chance that you still…”
“Blake,” she whispers, pulling her hand away.
I stop, my entire body tensing.
She lifts her gaze to mine, her eyes filled with too many emotions to name.
And then…
“Goodnight. I’m really tired,” she whispers, and lies down, facing the other direction.
My stomach drops.
Is this it???
I run a hand over my face, forcing a slow exhale, then push off the bed. My movements feel heavy like I’m wading through cement.
At the door, I hesitate. Turn back.
"Goodnight, Whit," I murmur.
She doesn’t answer.
