Page 60 of Your Second Chance
I threw my phone at him, the screen already open to the grim rabbit hole I’d been obsessively scrolling through for hours. Articles, images, the works. The centerpiece of it all? A grainy photo of Nova with cocaine on her arse while Austin had a rolled bill in his nose.
“Holy. Sheet. Is this Nova?” He pointed to the photo of her in the article.
I didn’t even hesitate—I yanked the phone out of his grasp so fast I nearly knocked over my water.
“What the fuck, mate?”
“You don’t need to be looking at her like that.” My voice was sharp, seething.
Will raised his hands in surrender, eyebrows lifting. “Alright, alright. No need to lose your head.” He slowly brought his hands back down like he didn’t want to make any sudden movements. “When’d you find this all out? Today?”
I nodded.
“Fuck, mate. That’s tough.”
“So if I’m a little distracted and pissed, it’s rightfully so,” I shot back, trying to justify myself.
“Nah.” Will shook his head, taking another swig of his pint. “Alright, listen. You’re here with me, pissed the night before a game, instead of figuring out how to be there for the woman you clearly care about. Wrong move. Absolutely the wrong move.”
I clenched my jaw and grabbed my water, taking a long sip and trying to sober up for whatever lecture was coming.
“Listen, I love you, mate. I’ve known you for years. You were one of the strongest players I’ve ever worked with. When you decided to retire because of your shoulder, I went to bat for you. Demanded the team keep you on as a coach because I knew you’d be good at it. And you are. You’re a good coach, Ollie.”
I frowned, unsure where this was heading.
“That’s what you do. You help people. You fix things. And Nova? She’s been through the bloody wringer. Look at the shit on your phone. If even half of that’s true, she needs someone steady, someone who won’t fuck off when things get hard. And what are you doing?” He gestured around us, frustration etched into his face. “You’re here. With me. Getting pissed. Wrong fucking move, Ollie.”
His words hit me square in the chest, and I leaned back in my chair, rubbing a hand over my face. “I don’t know how to...”
“Don’t overthink it,” Will interrupted. “You don’t need a grand plan. She doesn’t need some knight in shining armor. She needs you. The guy who stands there, takes the hits with her, and stays when the dust settles. So sober the fuck up and get your head in the game—on and off the field.” Will clinked his pint against my water glass, then took a sip. “You’ve got this, mate. Just stop mucking it up.”
“I already have,” I groaned, guilt washing over me. “I’ve messed it all up.”
“If any of that shit on your phone is true, she’s been through it. More than most people can handle. And now? She’s pregnant, carrying his baby, in another country, and all alone.”
“She has her friend,” I muttered weakly, the excuse sounding pathetic even to me.
Will raised an unimpressed brow. “One friend? Come on, mate. You think one person is enough for everything she’scarrying? Especially when you’re clearly part of the equation now?”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “I don’t know how to fix this. How do I make her feel better?”
“You remember when Charlie got taken out last season? That nasty ankle break? Everyone thought his career was done.”
I nodded, the memory vivid. “Yeah, I stayed after training, worked with him. Got him back on his feet.”
“Exactly.” Will pointed a finger at me. “You didn’t have to do that. You did because that’s who you are. You’re a fixer. You see someone struggling, and you step up. It’s who you’ve always been.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “This isn’t a bloody ankle, Will. This is Nova. This is so much bigger than anything I know how to handle.”
He leaned forward, rocking the creaky wooden pub chair. “You don’t have to handle it all. You only need to be there. She doesn’t need a solution, Ollie. She needs someone in her corner. Someone who doesn’t flinch when shit gets messy. That’s it.”
I looked at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “What if I mess it up?”
“You might,” he admitted with a shrug. “But running away? That’s the only way you’re guaranteed to lose her.” He reached across the table and clapped me on the shoulder. “Go home. Sleep it off. Then figure out what you’re going to do. Because this?” He gestured to the pub. “This isn’t the answer.”
Will leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms like he was entirely satisfied with his lecture. “Alright, mate. I’ll cover the beers tonight. Consider it my contribution to your epiphany.”
I rolled my eyes, finishing off my water.
