Sidelines (Wounded Hearts #1) (36 page)

“Where are you going?” he asks, his voice strained. I can't look up at him, because I know if I do, I won't be able to do what I need to.

"I'm going home," I manage to choke out. My voice quivers and I try to swallow back the lump in my throat, but it just won't go away.

"Not alone, you're not." His timbre falters and I know he’s struggling to watch me, but I can't look at him. I just can't. Shadows at the bay window tell me we have an audience. And it's for them, for all of us, that I have to walk away.

"I have to."

"Allie, I..." His words are cut off by an audible swallow. The last of my resolve is starting to slip, so I grab ahold of it and pray that I can keep myself from falling into a million more pieces just a little bit longer.

"I know." The words barely make it out of me, coming out so low I barely hear myself.

"Say you love me, too," he pleads. I start to turn my head to look up at him, but remember just in time that I really shouldn't. Lowering my chin, I refuse to let myself peek at his reflection in the window and swallow back every desire in me to tell the truth and comply with his request.

"I can't."

"Because you'd be lying or because you really don't." His hard voice is exactly what I need to walk away. It will make walking away so much easier if he gets mad.

Raising my chin and steeling myself, I send an apologetic look toward the crowd at the window.

"I'm sorry, Logan. I really am." I'm able to muster up the strength necessary to pull at the door handle again, but I don’t have to because he takes his hand off the car and steps back with a frustrated sigh.

As I take the car out of park and set my eyes on the drive in front of me, I feel like the worst person in the world. The guilt gets the best of me and makes me glance back in my rear view mirror just before I pull onto the road. Standing in the setting California sun, dressed for a funeral he only attended because of his love for me, I abandon the man of my dreams.

 

***

 

My phone rings for the twentieth time since I left Drew’s. I check it expecting it to be one of the Lassiters, because they've all tried to get ahold of me over the course of the last four hours, but it just so happens to be the only person I don't want to talk more than any of them.

And when your boss calls, even on your day off, you should still probably answer.

"This is Allie." My throat is so sore from all the sobbing I finally let out, so my words come out hoarse and scratchy.

"You sound terrible," Mac tells me without preamble.

"I should get a pass today. It's been a long one." I pick up the water bottle and take a sip, hoping the wetness will lessen the burn.

"I'm sorry, Al. I wouldn't be doing this today if I didn't need to know. Logan was--"

"They were there to show their support. I'll be honest and say that his family was great to get to know and their being there for me today just proves the type of people they are."

"So Logan being by your side... There's nothing going on between you two?"

I let out an unsteady breath, hoping that I can sell the lie.

"Nope."

I can only hope the silence from the other end means the line disconnected and my horrible attempt at lying was missed. But when I hear Mac's exhaled curse, I know I've been caught.

"But you wish there were." It's not a question.

"I want what's best. And that means I will finish revising the article early and return to work on Wednesday. Early." I know I need to get back into my old routine, back to what is familiar. Then I can move on, as best as I know how to anyway.

"Allie...you could damage the integrity of your reputation here."

"I can't—won't let that happen."

Mac doesn't say anything for a few more moments and I fear the damage has already been done.

"Two weeks. You can come back in two weeks. No sooner. Take some time off. Go to the beach. Get a massage. Whatever you girls like to do to let off some steam. You deserve it."

He's willing to ignore this for the time being, so I will not look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Thanks, Mac."

"You're welcome. And, Allie." I brace myself for the lecture that is coming, but he sighs again and his voice drops. "I really am sorry about everything."

I can't even mutter my appreciation. I hang up, pull my legs up to my chest and let myself fall into my little couch, still in my dress with wild hair and a broken heart.

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Three

 

 

**Two weeks later**

 

I fold the newspaper and tuck it under my arm as I enter the coffee shop. Ground espresso beans fill my nostrils and I try for the millionth time in the last few weeks to allow it to bring me some sort of comfort. Lord knows nothing else has.

Taking the last couple of weeks off, I’ve been tasked with the assignment to let myself recover and regain myself before I take on my new job in two days. Trying things like hot yoga and CrossFit to occupy my abundance of time, I’ve contorted my body in ways that left me sore for days. Add in the undertaking of finding a new apartment, and I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more stressed in my life. Although I’m immensely grateful for the swiftness in which the realtor was able to get an acceptable offer on Walt and Maggie’s house, the torment of selling the place that was my sanctuary many years ago continues to eat at me. I told myself that I need to start anew: a new job, a new place, a new life. But every loft, condo, and townhome I’ve managed to tour feels cold and empty. I know what the problem is, but I keep telling myself that moving on with my life is what Walt and Maggie would want for me. So I step up to the counter and order a triple caramel mocha and tell myself that once I’m settled into whatever place I can find, I’ll feel better.

“Allie?”

Startled to hear my name called, I turn and search for the source. A pair of warm chocolate eyes and a smile I’ll never forget greats me.

“Danny?”

The barista places my coffee on the bar and when I turn back to him, I still cannot believe who is standing before my eyes.

“I thought that was you. How…how have you been?” A genuine smile spreads across his features.

Three months ago, I would have been shocked if he’d had the nerve to speak to me, but my time in Texas has taught me a thing or two about uncomfortable moments and how to just go with the flow. Pulling out all the stops I have in me, I turn on the cheerful grin and welcoming personality I use on screen.

“I’m good. How are you?”

He stares at me a moment before the barista places his order on the bar. After picking it up, he turns toward a couple of empty arm chairs.

“Oh, man. I’m so glad I ran into you, actually. Do you have a few minutes?” He gestures for me to take a seat.

Checking my watch, I consider my options. I don’t have to be at my next apartment tour for another hour, but I’m not sure there’s much that either of us needs to say. Curiosity gets the better of me.

“Sure.”

“I, um…I heard about Walt. I actually wanted to come to the memorial, but…”

“But that might have been a little awkward.”

Danny has the gumption to blush. He plays with the sleeve of his cup for a second before turning pained eyes back to me.

“I’m really sorry, Allie.”

Not knowing what to say, I just shake his apology away.

“No, I’ve needed to apologize for years, but if I’m being honest, I’ve been a bit of a coward. I didn’t do right by you and it’s been on my heart for so long now…”

I take a sip and feel the tug sorrow seems to have on me more and more lately. “It’s all in the past, Danny. I’ve moved on, I think it’s time you do, too.”

He nods, but I can tell something is still eating at him. “Can you forgive me?”

Something strikes me hard and fast, knocking the breath out of me. My words to Logan not long ago hit me like a ball to the face and I realize that no matter how much I want to hold on to what Danny did to me, I need to release him of his transgressions.

I feel my head nod before I feel the words on my tongue. “Yeah, I can forgive you.”

As much as he tries to hold it back, I can see the moment relief rushes over him. He takes another sip of his coffee like he doesn’t know what else to say at this point. It’s in that moment I see the flash of the gold band on his left hand.

“You’re married.” It slips through my filter before I can stop myself from saying it.

A different look comes over him. A look I’ve seen a few different times. When Walt would look at Maggie. When Sam looks at Jillian.

When Logan looks at me.

“Yeah, Katie. She’s…she was in our statistics class junior year.” He stops abruptly, as if he’s let a secret slip.

“How long have you been married?”

He gulps, a guilty look overcoming him. “It’ll be three years next January.”

I do the math and realize why the guilty look. For some reason, I don’t feel the anger something tells me I should.

“That’s great. I’m really happy to hear that you’re doing well, Danny.”

He watches me for a moment, his eyes darting over me as if he’s getting to see the full picture for the first time. When he’s done, he cups his coffee with both hands and leans forward so that his elbows rest on his knees.

“Are you happy, Allie?”

Is this a trick question? “As much as I can be.”

He gives me a placating grin that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“This is going to sound really weird, but sometimes you just can’t ignore the call.” He squints at me for a moment before blurting out, “Would you like to come to church with Katie and me tomorrow?”

To say I wasn’t expecting him to say that would be a major understatement.

“Excuse me?”

He shakes his head as he leans back in his seat, uncertainty crossing is features. “I don’t know why, but I felt compelled to ask. We found this really great church a few months ago and we’ve just felt called to share it with everyone.”

I blow an unsteady breath through my lips and try not to let the warning bells going off in my head bleed into my speech.

“I, um—”

“No pressure. I don’t even know if you still go. I just…” He looks like he wishes he’d kept his thoughts to himself, so we’re both surprised by the next words that come out of my mouth.

“I think I’d like to actually.”

Dark brows reach for the sky in total bewilderment.

“Yeah?”

The more I consider his invitation, the more resolved I feel about agreeing to go. “Yeah. I…I could probably use a good church service.”

A pleased smile stretches across his face. He nods as if agreeing to some secret running through his head before turning back to me. “Alright. Um, it’s on Highland, just past the Chicken Palace. Service starts at 11. We’ll save you a seat.”

Vaguely aware of where he’s talking about, I feel a small smile pull at my own lips. “That would be great.”

He goes to stand and I follow him. He doesn’t say anything as he opens the door for me. The warm summer sun meets my skin like a spotlight, warming places I’ve been numb to for weeks now.

“I saw the article.” Danny’s quiet admission from behind me starts to chill those places all over again. My insides coil in on themselves and I feel myself start to clam back up.

“I didn’t think you liked football anymore.”

He winces. “I understand why you’d think that, but I have to admit, your passion for the game kind of wore off on me a bit.”

I don’t know what to think of that so I don’t respond.

“He’s a great guy.”

I pull my sunglasses off the top of my head and cover the eyes that are undoubtedly starting to gloss over.

“He really is.” I take pride in the fact that I didn’t choke on my words.

Danny stares at me another moment, a knowing expression in his eyes.

“He’d be a lucky man.”

Trying to keep my positive demeanor, I bite down on my trembling lip and pull my cheeks up to at least appear like I’m trying to smile. “You’d like to know if the rumors are true.”

Embarrassment turns his ears pink. “It’s none of my business, really.”

“They weren’t. Aren’t. Whatever.”

Watching me another moment, I see it the minute it registers on his face. Disbelief.

Great.

“Listen, Allie. Hear the words of a man who once loved and lost you. You’re worth it. You deserve to be happy and if he makes you happy, then you deserve him.”

Danny knows only a portion of my past, only knowing that I ran away from my biological mother’s home because it was unsafe for me. But at one point, he was familiar with my sense of abandonment and my issues with believing the words he just spoke.

Drawing in a breath that feels like it can’t fill the recesses I need it to, I try to hold myself together and find a way to escape this conversation as quickly as possible.

“It was great to see you again, Danny. I look forward to tomorrow.” Or at least I was until you brought up all sorts of painful feelings.

“You too, Allie. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

He steps off the curb and approaches a dark Mercedes, and I realize I didn’t ask him what he’s doing or anything else about himself. Feeling like I just botched that interview, I shake off the bad vibes and ready myself for another daunting property tour.

 

***

 

Danny and Katie were seriously disappointed when I wouldn’t join them for lunch after the beautiful church service. To say I took the sermon at their church easier than the sermon I caught with the Lassiters would be stretching it a bit, but the feelings I battle today are less hostile and more melancholy. They’re waging just as heavy a war as the bitter, angry feelings I left with that day a few weeks ago though, and even though I was comforted by the presence of the Lassiter family last time, Danny and Katie are simply not Lassiters. That thought alone just adds fuel to my grief-stricken fire.

The message from the sermon floats in the rolling sea of my soul like a lifeboat adrift with no destination and no hope of being seen. I mindlessly navigate the curvy roads along the coast with no end destination in mind. I can’t handle sitting in my tiny apartment alone or tour another empty, lifeless condo, and to be honest, I’m not at all surprised to find myself on the winding roads that stretch along the coast. With the sea soaked breeze whipping my hair behind me and the late summer sun kissing the skin of my arms, I drive aimlessly around with the top to my Mazda down, trying to outrun the weight of the world that wants to perch itself on my once-sturdy shoulders.

Nothing will separate us from the love of Christ.

I’ve felt so alone and so disconnected from the comfort I once felt from Jesus that my mind is having a hard time grasping onto this truth. And if I’m to believe Jillian, God really does love me. My innermost being tries to let these words settle and take root, but my tattered, shattered heart just won’t let the full meaning of those words bring the comfort they’re meant to bring.

Around a curve, the ocean comes into view and breathing becomes difficult, bringing the onslaught of tears yet again. Knowing I shouldn’t be driving through what I feel coming, I spot a roadside pier and pull onto the gravel parking. The first tear falls as I put the car in park and turn the key, and once again the pit in my heart cracks wide open, allowing the reservoir of pain to overflow. Soaking myself in my own hopelessness, not even the hot rays of sun can warm the aching feeling in my soul.

Like an old family movie, faces cross the backs of my eyelids like a parade of people I’ve loved and lost.

A face-less father.

My biological mother.

Maggie.

Walt.

Logan.

That last face rips open a barely healed wound. My first pre-season assignment, set for tomorrow, will force me to stand on the sidelines, not far from where he, too, will have to stand after his five minutes of actual play time. We’ll be yards away from each other and yet worlds apart. One kind word, one misconstrued look will start another round full of rumors and accusations that won’t be far off from the truth. And with a heavy heart I’ll have to deny every one of them. Again.

Waves roll against the sandy shore, calling me out of the confines of my car, begging to help wash away my pain. Applying the parking break, I don’t even bother putting the top up as I step out and cross the road to the weathered wooden stairs down to the shore. The second my sandals hit the sand, I stop to pull them off and let my toes sink into the warm, gritty earth. My maxi skirt flies behind me, spreading out like wings as I lift my face and let the ocean mist rinse the tears away. Peace creeps over the tops of my toes and up my legs as the ocean washes my feet. The tension my body has been collecting over the past few weeks starts to drift out to sea and I let it go, thankful to be rid of it.

I don’t know how long I stand there, letting the bottom of my skirt get soaked before I hear a car door slam. I don’t turn to look and discover who has decided to join me, and I’m not ready to leave the peace the beach brings, so I decide to take a bit of a walk. Sticking close to the waterline, I meander down the beach a ways, letting the rest of the world slip away and letting myself just
be
right now. The breeze wraps around me like a hug, a hug a voice in the back of my mind tells me is from the Creator. 

I am right here with you, Allie. And I’m not going anywhere.

The words swirl around my head and bring goosebumps to my bare arms. They take my breath away and fill the holes of my heart at the same time. Pressure builds up in my chest again, but instead of building up tears, I let out a shaky breath and allow the truth to seep in.

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