“She would have,” he agreed. “But you didn’t fall in love with Faith. You fell for Langley, and that independence of hers was one of the first things you mentioned about her.”
“Yeah, and maybe it’s not fair to expect her to grow, to change,” I admitted. “But just once, I wish she’d choose me. Not just over her job, but over everything. Because if you told me she was in the hospital right now, I would get on the next flight to be by her side. I would leave Tage, just like I did before and show up for Langley. But she’d have to check her schedule if the roles were reversed. Hell, she’d probably tell the ambulance to wait after whatever press conference she’d set up was done.”
“Don’t be a drama queen.”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
Silence stretched between us.
“Do you know how badly I want to be wrong? How much I want to look up and see her walking down the hallway right now? I’d get over the fact that she didn’t get on the first fucking plane if she just got on any plane that wasn’t to Chicago. But she’s there, with you and the team.”
“My friend, I don’t...I don’t know what to say. I know she’s asked me about you, but I thought she was just asking for my perspective on the situation, not for actual information. I can tell it’s killing her not to be there for you.”
“Maybe, but she’s not. I think…” I sucked in a breath and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Lukas, I think we’re done.”
“Don’t say that. This is one fight. Hell, it’s not even a fight if you’re not speaking. It’s a non-fight.”
“Give me that phone,” I heard Faith grumble and then the sound of a soft struggle.
“Axel?” Faith asked, her voice high and worried.
The last thing I wanted was another fucking lecture on how Langley’s fears trumped mine. How her past scarred her more than mine had. I knew that all. I also didn’t fucking care at the moment.
“Hey, Faith. Look, I have to get going.”
“Wait. Please?” She sounded so damn sad.
“What is it?”
“She’s a wreck. She misses you. She’s worried about fucking up this whole thing with Cannon, that it will cost her this job. She’s worried about Tage. I see her hover over your name in her phone, and she’s checking her text messages all the time. She’s carrying around that copy of ESPN like you might just pop out of the cover.”
“She hasn’t even called.” Fuck, I sounded like a broken, whiny record.
“Have you?” she challenged.
“No, I haven’t. Instead, I’ve been dealing with doctors and decisions and another operation to remove a blood clot. I’ve monitored his heartbeat and shoved food down his throat. And don’t tell me she hasn’t had a minute away from this bullshit with the ref. Faith, I’ve taken every step in our relationship. I proposed. I moved her into our house. I’ve been as supportive as I can possibly be without literally becoming her fucking girlfriend. I’ve told her that I’m in love with her, that she’s the only woman I’ll ever want. So you tell me if I should have to pick up the fucking phone because she chose another man’s problems over her husband, her family. I’ve been there every time she’s needed me, and the first time I need her, really need her, she has bigger things to deal with on her color-coded agenda.”
Faith sucked in her breath and let it out in a shaky sigh.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Faith, you didn’t deserve—”
“It’s okay,” she answered quietly. “Just take care of yourself and Tage, okay? And try not to give up on Langley. She was so broken this time last year, and I hoped…” She trailed off.
“I hoped I’d fix her, too,” I admitted. “Instead, I just let her break me.” I noticed a young boy standing across the hallway waiting just out of earshot with a copy of ESPN in his hand. “Look. I really do need to go. I know how important Langley’s career is. I do. And maybe it makes me a selfish fuck for wanting to be just as important or maybe even just a hair above. So be it. I’m going through hell, and I want my wife.” A wry laugh slipped free. “But I guess that won’t matter in a few weeks, anyway, as she so aptly reminded me.”
“Axel…” Faith’s voice dripped with pity.
“Gotta go.”
I hung up the phone, ran a hand down my face, and pulled my shit together. Then I walked out to where the little boy looked up at me with big blue eyes, reminding me so much of Tage that I choked up a little. “Hey, big man.”
“Are you Axel Nyström?” he asked, his eyes lighting with nervous hope.
“Sure am.” I offered him a smile and dropped to my haunches, already mourning the fact that I’d never get to have kids with the one woman I’d thought fierce enough to mother my undoubtedly unruly offspring.