A Forever Kind of Guy: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 2 (23 page)

“It was the drugs, babe. The painkillers. The booze.”

“The women,” Hayley put in, simply because that was what had broken her. If it were only his substance abuse, she could have fought it with him, would have stayed with him. His blatant infidelity? She could neither forgive nor forget.

Trey nodded. “The women. I got a lot of counseling. I think I understand why I did what I did.”

“Good for you.” Wow. She’d managed that without a trace of sarcasm.

“I’m clean,” Trey informed her. “Sixty-two days.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t easy.” Hayley didn’t know what else to say. Sixty-two days didn’t sound like much after years of over-indulging in alcohol and the more recent addiction to prescription painkillers. But, like every other addict, Trey had to start somewhere on the road to recovery.

“It wasn’t. It isn’t. You have to take it one day at a time.”

Oh no. He wasn’t going to recite the acceptance prayer, was he? Hayley was afraid that might bring on another fit of the giggles.

Still, she had to admit, Trey looked more humbled than she’d ever seen him. He sounded more sincere than he ever had too. Maybe those few tears were even genuine. But something in her couldn’t quite believe he’d changed that much. He was a stranger she knew too well and could never trust.

She took another look at him. She’d left only one light burning on the end table so it was hard to be sure, but Trey looked exhausted. Thinner than she remembered. Older. More tired. There were new lines radiating out from his to-die-for blue eyes, and he needed a haircut. His cheekbones and jawline were more sharply drawn. Trey looked downright weary. Hayley’d spent too many days thinking she looked the same way not to recognize it in Trey. Of all the emotions she’d expected to feel when she saw him again, pity had not been on the list.

“Are you hungry, Trey? Can I make you something to eat?”

Now it was Trey’s turn to chuckle. “You learned how to cook?”

She had to smile. “I wouldn’t go that far. But I can make sandwiches, and sometimes I heat a pizza in the oven without burning it.”

“Maybe half a sandwich.”

He followed her to the kitchen and watched in silence as she laid slices of turkey on bread spread with mustard and added a few leaves of lettuce. She handed the plate to him.

“Want some milk? Or some orange juice?”

“Milk, please.”

After she poured it, they sat at the table like two civilized human beings. Hayley had never expected to soften up in Trey’s presence and certainly not so quickly. She’d loved him passionately, and she’d watched the love turn to hurt, disillusion and disappointment. He’d crushed her and ground her under his heel with his thoughtlessness, philandering and substance abuse. She’d hated that she’d become bitter and cynical, sarcastic and more insecure than she’d ever been. But even those traits had begun to fade these past few months. Maybe Trey had done her a favor. He’d stripped her blinders off, shaken her out of her secure cocoon and made her stand on her own two feet. She was stronger for the experience, but she had no wish to repeat it.

The sandwich disappeared in four bites. Trey never lingered over food. He drained the glass of milk. Hayley couldn’t think of anything more to say. She’d been talking to Trey through lawyers and public relations people for so long, she had no idea how to communicate with him directly. Maybe she never had.

“So, babe, what do you think?”

“About?”

“About us.” He reached across the table and covered her hand with his, gave it a squeeze. Hayley stared at his hand atop hers. The long, thick fingers that had once touched her with love. The strong, capable hand that could hurl a football sixty yards with deadly accuracy. There were tiny, gold-flecked hairs across the back of his hand. God, how she’d loved him. But that time was so far away it was as if it had happened to someone else. She’d lived a fairy tale starring the cheerleader and the quarterback. But no one ever writes “Fairy Tale: The Sequel”. No one wants to read about the heartbreak that threatens every relationship. No one wants to know what happens seven or ten years in when the going gets tough.

Hayley met Trey’s gaze. His eyes were clear, a glittering blue. Incredibly, they were filled with hope. And that made everything that had gone before sadder still.

“There is no us, Trey. Not anymore.” She got the words out in a voice barely above a whisper. If she said anything more, the tears she was holding at bay would fall.

“Babe. Come on. I messed up. I know I did. Give me another chance. I want to make it right. You don’t have to live like this.” He looked around with mild distaste. “Come home with me and let me make it up to you.”

Hayley thought of what that would mean. No more financial struggle. No more lonely nights. No more worry about her future. She could make Trey sign a new pre-nup that guaranteed her a big chunk of his assets if he so much as looked at another woman. She could make Trey pay dearly, if he was serious about getting back together. The thought tantalized her as she remembered her life of ease. She’d hardly set foot in a kitchen the entire time they’d been together, and she’d never have to again.

But she knew she’d be miserable. She didn’t love Trey anymore. She’d rather be alone and struggling than married to a man she had no passion for.

Hayley shook her head and withdrew her hand from beneath his. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both.”

Trey surprised her again when he didn’t argue further or try to change her mind. “I figured you were too smart to give me another shot. But I had to ask.”

“I’m surprised you did. Last time I saw you, you were slamming the door behind me after you’d kicked me out of our house.”

“I was an ass. You didn’t deserve it.”

Hayley lifted her chin. “No. I didn’t.”

“I’m sorry. You probably don’t believe me, but I am.”

“Thank you for saying it.”

Trey scrubbed his hands over his face. He reminded Hayley of a little kid who desperately needed a nap. “Where are you staying? You look exhausted.”

“Oh. Hmm. Hadn’t thought about that. I guess, I don’t know. There must be a place I can stay around here somewhere.”

Hayley nodded. “There’s a motel at the next exit west off the interstate. It’s about ten miles.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He made no move to get up.

Hayley yawned.

“Um, the thing is, darlin,’ I took off without my wallet. Could I maybe borrow some cash or a credit card?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Come on, babe. You know I’m good for it.”

“Nope. Forget it.”

“What am I supposed to do then?”

“I don’t know, Trey. You figure it out. You haven’t changed that much. Still leaping before you look. You’re only good at advance planning when you’re on the field.”

“What are you so mad about all of a sudden?”

“Nothing. But I’m done being abused by you. You took all I had to give. You’re not getting anything else.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. I’m dog-tired is all. I don’t think I can drive back to Jacksonville tonight.”

Truth be told, Hayley didn’t want him on the road either. If something happened to him, if he fell asleep at the wheel and had an accident, she’d feel horrible.

“You can sleep on the couch, if you want to. But first thing in the morning, you hit the road. No excuses.”

Trey smiled his trademark smile. “Sure thing, babe. Thanks.”

Hayley lay awake for a long time that night. Trey supposedly wanted to reconcile, but he’d never once said he still loved her. She wondered if he’d thought for a minute that she’d say yes, if he even would have asked her. Perhaps he’d only wanted to try to make amends as part of his recovery. Apologizing to her was probably one item on a long list of things Trey needed to do for his own peace of mind.

She thought of Ray. How his solid strength made her feel secure. How he never judged or jumped in with his own opinions. Ray saw something in her no one else had seen, and it made her feel good.

Ray and Trey.

Hayley and Kaylee.

How had she managed to stumble into a Dr. Seuss scenario with rhyming names? Perhaps she and Ray could marry and have a child someday. They could give it a name that rhymed with Molly to keep the tradition going. She began running through the alphabet in her head. Dolly. Holly. Lolly. Polly. Ollie. Wally.

Or maybe they could get another dog. A collie.

Hayley nudged Trey awake the next morning. She wanted him up and out before she left. Fletcher was getting dressed when she shoved Trey in the direction of the bathroom. As usual, he moaned and groaned his way there, his old football injuries causing stiffness until he worked the kinks out and warmed up his muscles and ligaments.

“Hurry up.” She closed the door behind him, annoyed with herself for letting him stay last night. She wondered if he’d forgotten his wallet or if he’d made that up so she’d let him stay. Although knowing Trey, he’d have preferred even an inexpensive motel bed over the sofa which could barely accommodate his football player’s frame.

Fletcher appeared as she set his cereal and half a banana at his place. She poured him juice and ruffled his hair on the way back to the refrigerator. She warmed up her coffee from the pot when a knock came at the door. Maybe it was Ray. Her heart did a flutter at the thought, and she peeked through the sidelight before she opened the door.

Callie Maxwell stood on the other side of the door. Hayley opened it and let her in. “Ms. Maxwell. You’re out early today.” She looked over the woman’s shoulder to see her government vehicle parked behind Trey’s shiny black Porsche.

“I told you I’d be making unscheduled visits. I’m required to vary the times of day when I do, but lately mornings are more convenient for me. Is that a problem?”

“No, no, not at all. Come in.”

Callie spotted Fletcher at the table and smiled at him. “Good morning, Fletcher. How are you today?”

Fletcher stared at her but continued to munch cereal.

“Only a quick inspection today,” Callie assured her. “Won’t take long.” She took in Hayley’s workout outfit. “You’re probably on your way to work.”

“Yes, in a little while. Please, go ahead. Look around.”

“Thank you. I will.” Callie started with a visit to the breakfast table. Hayley hoped she noted Fletcher’s cereal wasn’t one of the sugar-laden varieties and that he had fruit
and
juice.

Next Callie opened the refrigerator and scanned the contents then made a check mark on a form she had with her.

She peeked into the oven and the microwave and the dishwasher, all of which were empty, and made another checkmark. She opened the door to the laundry room and stuck her head in there as well.

“I need to check Fletcher’s bedroom and the bathroom,” she informed Hayley. She started across the living area when Trey opened the bathroom door. Damp steam followed his shirtless self out into the hall, and Callie stopped short at his appearance.

“Hello there.” He greeted her as if he hadn’t a care in the world and they’d been introduced at a social gathering.

Oh great
, Hayley thought. She’d tidied up the sofa already, so it would surely look to Callie as if Trey had spent the night.
With her.

She hustled across to them. “Trey, this is Callie Maxwell. She’s a social worker with DCW. Callie, this is Trey Christopher.” The less information the better, she reminded herself. She purposely left out the fact that Trey Christopher was her ex-husband, although she was fairly certain Callie already had that information in her file, or soon would.

Callie nodded at Trey. “Nice to meet you. If you’ll excuse me.” She sidled past the two of them.

Hayley led Trey back to the kitchen. “Why couldn’t you shower faster? Why’d I let you stay here last night? Put your shirt on! God only knows what she must be thinking.” First Andre had made an early morning appearance in her bedroom, then Ray had surfaced from the same end of the hallway. Now Trey appeared exiting her bathroom like he did it all the time. Callie Maxwell probably thought her bedroom had a revolving door.

Trey shrugged into his shirt. “What do you care what she thinks?” Trey poured himself a cup of coffee and gestured to Fletcher with it. “Who’s the kid?”

Fletcher stopped eating. His somber gaze moved from Hayley to Trey and back.

“This is Fletcher. Steffie’s son.”

“What’s he doing here?” Trey wanted to know. At the same time he walked toward the table. “Hey, kid. I’m Trey.” He put his hand out. Fletcher stared at it before his gaze returned to Trey’s face, suspicion in his eyes.

“Not very friendly. But at least he’s quiet,” Trey commented. He pulled out a chair and sat down.

Hayley rolled her eyes. “Hurry up and drink your coffee, because when I leave you’re leaving.”

Callie reappeared. “Thank you, Hayley. I’ll be going now.” She nodded in Trey’s direction. “Mr. Christopher.”

Hayley hustled to meet her at the door before she opened it. “Thank you, Ms. Maxwell. Have a good day.”

Hayley closed the door, muttering a mild obscenity under her breath.

Fletcher slid off his chair and carried his bowl and glass to the counter. “Go brush your teeth, Fletch. We need to get moving.”

Fletcher went into the bathroom. Hayley poured the rest of her coffee down the drain and ran water over the few dishes and left them in the sink. When Fletcher reappeared, Hayley reached for Trey’s mug. He didn’t want to give it up. “Sorry,” she told him. “I have to go to work.”

She retrieved the lunch sacks from the refrigerator and put one in Fletcher’s backpack.

Trey followed them out the door and watched while she locked up. “You could come home with me. You wouldn’t have to work. You never did before.”

“Maybe I should have.”

“You adopting the kid?” he asked, glancing at Fletcher. “That’s cool. We always talked about having kids.”

“I’m not adopting him. I’m just trying to take care of him until someone else does because Steffie asked me to. Then I’m moving to L.A.”

“Oh.” Trey pondered this for a moment.

He followed her to her car and watched while she buckled Fletcher into his seat.