Mel’s delicate lips open and close as she stares at me like I betrayed her.
“You’re kicking me out? But I have nowhere to go. Besides, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Jeff and I are just…”
“Please don’t tell me friends with benefits,” I ask, raising a brow. Staring at her is like looking into the sun in all its blazing glory. I should look away, but I can’t seem to stop. Mel closes her mouth with a frown.
“We’ve not been sleeping together. Tonight was just…”
“Kissing with no clothes on, right?” The words cut the back of my throat and a rush of color floods Mel’s horrified face. You’d think she’s the victim in this situation.
“We did have clothes on… We didn’t… I can’t believe you’re giving me such a hard time over this.”
“Me?” I bark. “I know what I saw!”
Mel rises to a stand and crosses her arms. The corners of her eyes pull downward. “You’re never here, Logan. Between your NFL games and practice sessions, and all the endorsements you have to do, you’re just never home. Not to mention all the trips to your hometown that you refuse to take me to. Do you really expect me to wait around in this apartment forever? A woman needs companionship!”
I blink several times, trying to process the situation, and grit my teeth as the ringing in my ears grows louder. I want to tell her that I’ve retired, and that I did it to be with her. I was going to finally take her back to Snowdrop Valley to meet my dad. But I can’t even open my mouth.
Mel huffs and knocks back a drink, then she turns back to me.
“It takes two to be in a committed relationship, Logan. You never spend time with me. I mean, it’s not that hard, most couples make time to be together. When you’re away, you barely call, you don’t email. Nothing. Then you waltz in through the door and expect me to greet you with open arms? You can’t say that we’re together when we’re never actually together.”
I stand still, stunned by this attack; each word sinking to the bottom of my stomach.
I’m not sure how much more of this I can take, but Mel has me frozen, completely unable to react. Now I don’t know if I even want to tell her about my retirement. Part of me wonders if Martin will take me back. Maybe if I call him within the next hour, I can get back on the team. My silence spurs Mel on to keep talking.
Her shoulders slump and she offers an exaggerated sigh.
“I get it. You have your life and I have mine, but don’t for one second make me feel guilty. You and I both know you’ve been unavailable in this relationship. Even when you’re here, you’re distant. Like your mind is always elsewhere.”
She paces the room now, looking wistful. “I mean, this is kind of refreshing. I feel like, for once in our relationship, I’m not invisible.” She finds me and grabs my arm, her eyes flashing with urgency. “Logan, look at me.”
Her eyes are misty and the hurt in her voice makes my heart pinch. “I loved you once. Now I don’t even know who you are anymore.” She tucks my hair behind my ear with a lop-sided smile. Her annoyance is fading, and for a strange reason, I lose all sense of anger.
So, it’s all come to this?
My career is over, and my cheating girlfriend is walking out on me. Welcome to your new life, Logan.
She rises to her tiptoes to peck me on the cheek, then she whispers in my ear. “I hope that you find someone. When you do, don’t make the same mistake.”
I watch in shock as Mel struts out of my apartment, her parting words echoing in my mind like the bells of Notre Dame.
How could she turn the situation around to make me feel like the bad guy?
I haven’t done anything wrong.
I’ve been busy!
I haven’t called much, sure. But I’m an NFL player!
This is what comes with the territory—traveling around the country, late nights, and very little quality time with loved ones during the season. Supportive girlfriends show up to games, but Mel was never interested in what I do. Her idea of spending time together is staying in and watching Netflix. Now she turns around and makes out that I was keeping her home?
She hit a raw nerve, though, and she’s not wrong when she says I’m somewhere else even when I’m with her.
Either my head is in the clouds— completely void of any thought or emotion because I’m completely drained from training—or I’m stressing about an upcoming game, or my dad. There is no in-between.
Sometimes, my brain plays tricks on me and sends flashes of the woman I used to be with. Josie St. James. My high school love. She was five-foot-three, smart, quick-witted, and had the sexiest smile: it could bring any guy to his knees. The best part? She didn’t even know it. Being with her was as easy as breathing. Sometimes, when I’m stressed, I think about her just because those memories are reminders of simpler, happier times.
Do I love Mel? No.