Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Drake

EIGHT YEARS AGO

"Wow, look who decided to make an appearance." That voice—sharp and unexpected—pierced through my haze of nostalgia and drunkenness. But it wasn't the voice I longed to hear; it wasn't Lila.

I placed my beer bottle beside me, its chill seeping into my hand, and turned to face Darci. Her curly brown hair, a familiar frame around her face, caught the pale autumn light. Her cheeks were flushed from the crisp air.

She raised an eyebrow while those bright red lips formed a smirk.

"What? No welcoming hug?"

I shook my head, my eyes drifting to the motel's pool. Covered in a green tarp, it wasn't much better to look at. Fall in Vermont wasn't for swimming or sitting on cold deck chairs, but the alcohol numbed the bite of the chill, if not the ache in my chest.

Darci pulled up a seat beside me. "Heard you were back in town."

"Yeah," I muttered, "Hoping to run into Lila."

I fucking missed her. Not that girls on campus were lacking. They flocked to the players like bees on honey. But none of them compared to Lila. None of them made my heart race or my mind quiet the way she did.

I pull out another bottle from the cooler and crack the top open.

Darci winced. "She's at Roy's family's cabin with her dad. They've been spending a lot of time together."

My grip tightened on the bottle, jaw clenching. A wave of regret and anger washed over me. Coming here was a mistake. "So they're together?"

"Yeah," she said softly, "She moved on right after you left."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Lila and Roy. The thought of them together made my blood boil. She was mine. Always had been. Even when we were apart as kids, she was always mine.

Darci read my expression perfectly, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, Drake," she said, her voice a mix of sympathy and something more.

A sudden gust of chilly wind swept across the deck. Darci leaned closer for warmth, her perfume mingling with the crisp autumn air—a mixture of musk and sweet vanilla. I fought the urge to pull away and shivered slightly under her touch. I took another swig of my beer, desperate for distraction.

"She's had a crush on Roy for a long time," Darci continued, her voice tinged with regret. "I hated seeing you strung along, but she's my best friend. I couldn't tell you." She leaned closer, her face now inches from mine. "I'm sorry, Drake. You deserved so much better."

She placed her hand on my knee, her eyes full of sympathy. The atmosphere shifted. Darci had been into me for a while. Her flirtatious smiles and lingering touches hadn't gone unnoticed. But I'd brushed them off and never mentioned them to Lila. There was no need. My heart was always with Lila, and Darci never used it—until now.

But Lila didn't want me. Maybe she never did. The realization hit hard, a final, bitter twist of the knife.

"Let me make you feel better. At least for tonight."

I ached for the comfort of a familiar touch, to drown out my thoughts, not just of Lila and Roy, but of everything—my struggles on the field, my insecurities, the weight of the world that always seemed to sit squarely on my shoulders. But that wasn't fair to Darci. She deserved better than to be a band-aid for my pain.

"I'd be using you." My words slurred.

"I don't care. Use me. We could both use the release."

Reality crashes back in waves, each more painful than the last, my mind replaying the desperate cries for love and the cold, empty void that followed. The longing need to be held. To be loved. To just fucking be needed. In my youth and drunkenness, I made a stupid decision that began a downward spiral of my behavior.

Regret has gnawed at me since waking up from that drunken stupor. I promised myself I would never return to that town again. There was no reason for it. My sister, Mia, followed me wherever I went. She claimed it was to save money on rent, but deep down, I knew I owed her. I had ruined her life, too. She had to drop out of college to take care of me after Mom passed away.

But if that night led to me becoming a father, then I have no choice but to confront my past, no matter how terrifying the consequences.

Could Jake really be mine?

The mere possibility sends shockwaves through me, like a bolt of lightning coursing through my veins. I'm torn between feeling ecstatic and terrified. Part of me wants to rush to the nearest hospital and demand a DNA test immediately; another part of me hesitates, afraid of what the truth might unravel. What will it mean if he is?

A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I fidget with my hat, my mind reeling with possibilities.

Then there's Lila, her name a whispered prayer on my lips. Sweet, loving Lila who deserves so much more than what life has thrown at her. What will this mean for Lila and me? I just got her back in my life. Will my infidelity from eight years ago ruin us? Can I dare to take this risk? To shatter her heart again, to burden her with a betrayal that cuts deeper than any she's known? I wasn't the only one to betray her. Her best friend did as well. Or should I let it go and leave the past buried where it belongs?

Ultimately, it all comes down to one simple fact—if Jake is mine, he deserves to know his father. And that's one truth I can't escape. I'll have to tell her soon. But not now, not with Miranda sitting across from us, her eyes blazing with unresolved anger and suspicion.

"Drake," Miranda taps a finger on the deck of cards. "Your turn."

"We're done here." My voice is harsh but does little to deter Miranda.

"No, we're not." I study her. She's hurt and lashing out, but she isn't completely innocent in all of this. I suspected her infidelity, and she hadn't confessed yet.

"You want to continue playing? Then let's play, but it's your turn."

Her face is expressionless as we have the great staredown. "Fine," she says, snatching a card.

Her mouth forms a tight line as she turns up the truth card.

I lean closer and look her right in the eyes. "Have you ever cheated on me?"

Her eyes tear up as she looks at me. I'm not in the best head space right now, but it becomes clear when she realizes I've always known.

"It's a truth card, Miranda." I point to the card in front of her. "The day Lila was sick, did you fuck someone else?"

A small whimper escapes her mouth, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Lila's hand flies to her mouth as she gasps.

Miranda's voice barely rises above a whisper, each word heavy with regret and desperation. "It was a mistake."

My voice is steady despite the torrent of emotions churning inside me. "Lord knows I haven't been a saint in the past, but I never cheated on you."

She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. "No, Miranda, not even after finding the girl who tattooed her name on my heart years ago. I stayed faithful to you."

Lila stands slowly, her movements deliberate. Her eyes meet mine with a mix of sorrow and understanding. "I'm going to give you guys some space."

I let out a deep sigh as she left, suddenly tired. "Why are you doing this?"

"I wanted this to work out so badly," she sobs, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. My hands ball into fists. I'm torn, wanting to reach out and comfort her, yet knowing it's too late. I understand where she's coming from. I was there in the same spot. I was all in, wanting the same thing. The last thing I thought would happen would be the love of my life walking back into my life.

"I wanted that too," I admit. "I did."

"Then why wasn't I enough?" Her voice is barely a whisper, a heartbreaking plea for understanding.

"It's not that. I wasn't honest about Lila from the beginning. I guess you were right, and that's my fault. She stole my heart when I was eight." I soften my voice, hoping to drive home the next part. "You deserve a life with a guy who will love you wholeheartedly. But you know that life isn't with me."

"We could've tried. We can still fix this," Miranda stutters, her voice trembling with hope and fear, but it's too late. The truth is out there now, raw and undeniable.

"Why? Do you even love me? Like truly love me?" At her silence, I continue, "I didn't think so."

"But I can get there."

"If you truly thought that, you wouldn't have cheated."

"Drake." Her voice is pleading. She reaches out, but I step back, putting distance between us.

"I'm sorry to hurt you like this. But we were always heading here, weren't we? You've had to have known this."

"I want Lila out of here," she snaps, voice hardening with anger and frustration.

I start. There's no way Lila's staying in this hostile environment—that's not the issue. Could Miranda really be so cold as to kick out a woman and her child? "You can't be serious."

"It's in the signed lease," she says, her voice cold and determined. "I can end the contract whenever I please."

"She has a kid." The words tumble out more from shock than anything. I can't believe I thought we would ever have a chance. But the mere mention of Jake brings a torrent of excitement mixed with dread as the situation weighs down on me. He could be mine.

"They're not my problem."

"Nope, I guess they're not. They're mine." And I'll gladly take them on.