Page 133 of The Proposal
Since I’m in Vegas, if I were to make a wager, I’d put my money on the fact that he loves me too.
I can see a future with him. I can see a family—lots of babies and adventures. I can see us building on our marriage. Even if it started poorly, we could save it.
If he wants to.
What I haven’t worked out for certain is if we can return from yesterday's nightmare.
Is he mad at me for leaving? Was it wrong for me to bolt like that?
Will his family be willing to accept me after the fracas? Because Renn can’t live without them, and I won’t ask him to. I’d never put him in that position. I’d walk away first, no matter how badly it hurts.
What happened to his father? I can’t be near him again.
Did Renn lose his job? Does he blame me?
Does he miss me like I miss him? His text last night said he did, so I have hope. But did he wake up this morning without me and realize his life is better when he wakes up alone?
“I’m too busy. I can be selfish. To be honest, I like my independence. I can spend my money on whatever I please. But probably the biggest thing is that I don’t have to wonder about hidden motivations.”
My questions can be answered by calling him. But I don’t feel like I’m mentally prepared for it just yet.
I grab the ice cream again. I’m about to scoop another glob of dessert when the television grabs my attention.
Renn’s face is on the screen. Beneath his picture are the wordsBrewer Retires.
What?
I drop the spoon and scramble for the remote. A talking head comes on the screen. I pound the volume to turn it up. My heart beats so fast that I have a hard time catching my breath.
“Thank you, Jeffrey,” the blond woman says. “Shock waves rippled through the rugby community this morning as superstar Renn Brewer announced his retirement. A joint statement between Brewer and the Tennessee Royals was released moments ago. Brewer, who played internationally and here in the US for ten of the last eleven seasons, is heralded as one of the best openside flankers of all time. The Royals wish him well. Brewer, for his part, has asked for privacy.” She looks at Jeffrey. “If you keep up with pop culture, you’ll remember that Brewer got married last week. Some are speculating this is the motivation behind the abrupt decision.”
“Oh no.” I turn the volume down, panic setting in. “Foxx!”
His footsteps hit the steps. He appears in the doorway.
“Renn retired.”
“I know.”
My eyes bulge. “You know? You didn’t think to mention that to me?”
“NDA.”
I glare at him. He shrugs.
“I hate your shrugs,” I say, my voice breaking. A well of emotion breaks, and the pressure builds in my throat. “Was it because of me?”
Foxx looks at the ceiling. “Why me?”
“You might’ve cost him his Royals contract …” Was Reid right?
“No …”
I rip the blankets off, thankful I’m fully clothed. With shaky hands, I scramble to find my phone. I press the sides—bobbling it in my left hand, waiting for it to turn on. The battery sign flashes on the screen.
Tears fill my eyes as I search for a phone charger.
“Blakely …”
