Chapter Thirty-Four

C hapter Thirty-Four

A ndy

P ick up the fucking phone, Arna .

"Hi, you've reached Arnabelle Frost with Urban Pulse. Sorry I missed your call. Please leave a message and –"

She should be at work by now, I thought, disconnecting the call, and this was the third time I'd heard her voicemail. Which could only mean one thing – she was ignoring my calls.

Of course she was. Of course she didn't want to speak to me.

Because the whole thing was total bullshit. It was all a fucking lie and she really was just like the rest of them.

And I was a fool to have believed otherwise.

"I'm sorry, kid." Kieran's scruffy appearance was comforting given the scrambled state I too was in. It was the first time I had seen him in anything other than a suit and if it was any other day, I would be having the medics assess him.

"Why would you approve this shit? You're supposed to be on my side." Unable to look him in the eye, I stared ahead into the empty shower stalls.

Thankfully, the rest of the team were out on the field running drills until Coach said they were done. When one of us messed up, we all paid. But I needed time. I barely trained at all today because in the span of twenty-four hours my life had gone from what I thought was perfect, to an absolute shit show – which was also flawlessly laid out for the entire world to see. A front row seat to the dissolution of what I stupidly thought was me having it all.

"Andy, I read it! This is not what she sent me. Honestly, mate. I would never approve this shit. Urban hasn't answered my calls either but this was not in the agreement and I will fight for a redaction." He took his phone from his pocket and started tapping quickly. "Here, let me show you what I approved, it wasn't –"

I pushed off the wall, and directed my palm in his face signalling I didn't care. I was done with this. I was done with her.

"Pup. Don't! She didn't publish what she sent you and that is in black and fucking white on every news outlet in the country. It was all bullshit. But it doesn't matter now." I grabbed my hat and made for the door.

I was the ignorant tool for letting anyone in, especially someone who came with a fucking title that literally positioned her as one of them.

"Andy –"

"I need to get back to the park. I'll call you later." I still couldn't look at him because if I did, there was a chance I was going to lose face and I didn't need people seeing more of my shitty life than they already had.

When I returned to the field Coach barked my name and pointed to the forwards who were practising their kicks. I nodded in understanding, heading over to join the rest of the team and hopefully lose myself in the mundanity of something which was second nature.

The harsh buzzing of my intercom infiltrated the quiet room, jolting my foggy brain. No one had called to say they were dropping by and I was not taking surprise visitors, so I ignored the call hoping they would take the hint.

Even covering my head with the pillow wasn't enough to ignore the thudding and when it became apparent Graham knew I was home, I begrudgingly walked towards the phone. Reaching the receiver I yanked it from the wall, grateful to silence the ring.

"Yeah." I deadpanned. The last forty-eight hours had been painfully long and when I wasn't locked away in my apartment, I was at the clubhouse. I spoke to no one other than Pup about what happened because I didn't trust myself not to either punch someone or tell them to fuck off if they tiptoed around the pile of trash my life had become. There really was no winning in this game.

The days were tedious and our last training session where we were all demoralised and mentally depleted was still fresh. Coach gave us an absolute reaming, adding an extra 45-minutes of sprint training and a twenty-minute verbal spray about ‘ pulling our heads out of our arses' . While the media attention was dying down, the consequences were heavy and the club was definitely missing Jay's presence. Hell, I was missing his presence. It went against everything I believed in to let someone like Jay take the fall for what was someone else's mistake, but he wasn't answering any of my calls and by the time I read the article his locker was already empty. It was like he never existed and I knew this was intentional on his part because there was no way I would have let him walk under these circumstances.

Adding to that, Jack looked like a puppy who had been kicked and couldn't even look me in the eye. I was going to strangle Dylan the next time I saw him. I knew he would have been the one who brought the cocaine to the club and then he hid like a gutless little toad when it all turned to shit.

"Mr. Gloss, you have an approved visitor on the way up."

"Wait, Grah–"

Before I could get any further, he hung up. Fuck . I didn't want to see anyone and my list was small enough that there was a chance it would be the one person I really didn't want to see but didn't have the heart to remove.

The heavy knocking on my door was definitely not her, which was a small consolation. Picking up the glass of whiskey from the bench I headed for the entry and was slightly relieved to see Dad. I didn't bother with a greeting, instead opening the door and heading towards the balcony knowing he would follow.

"Good to see you too. You're lucky it's just me, boy. Your mother wanted to come too." Dad said when he joined me outside with a glass of his own. He also brought the rest of the bottle, which I ashamedly noticed was almost two-thirds gone.

It was very unlike Dad to drink during the day and I raised my brows at him questioningly.

"It would be rude to let you drink alone, at what, 11:00 am?" Dad mocked with a small smirk before laying on one of the recliners. "And it's been a big week."

I nodded once, sitting back on the other chair next to him before turning to look his way.

"That's an understatement. Dylan alive, because the little prick hasn't answered any of my calls."

Dad chortled, shaking his head. "Your brother will be the death of us all. He is alive alright and I know this because your mother currently has him washing the walls." He laughed again. "How is it all going at the club?"

"It's not great. Actually, I guess it's business as usual, minus Jay. Lost our best fucking defender and as far as I know he wasn't even involved. It was Dylan and…" I flung my hand in the air, standing and walking towards the edge.

I put my glass down and grabbed the railing with both hands. I was drinking before lunch on a Tuesday. What the hell was wrong with me. If Coach found out how much whiskey I was smashing this week he would drop me to reserves.

"Your brother already told me he was responsible. I won't even pretend to understand the ins and outs of a footy club but if Jay has taken the wrap for this, I'm sure he has his reasons. Your mother and I will deal with Dylan so don't worry about that. But how are you? How is Arna?"

I turned around but I couldn't look him in the eye, instead shifting my gaze over his shoulder at the bar area. I avoided feelings and relationships for this very reason yet here I was, with a broken fucking heart in front of the entire country.

"Dad, I - I can't go there."

He came and stood next to me placing a hand on my shoulder and I coughed the emotions down.

"Son, look at me." I slowly lifted my head, thankful for my hat which was mostly covering my eyes. I raised my chin subtly, encouraging him to say whatever he wanted and then hopefully leave me alone to continue wallowing.

"I think you should call her and give her a chance to explain. I'm not saying what she wrote is right, but have you even spoken to her?" I didn't need to look up for him to know I most definitely had not. She didn't answer my calls the morning she released that fucking bullshit article which not only portrayed the club as a group of players with serious drug issues, but happily embellished the role I played in ignoring what happened at Nexus.

She may as well have fucking said I approved, supplied the shit and was effectively encouraging the behaviours.

"Andy, you've always preferred being on your own. It was why your mother and I found it so easy when you were drafted to the Hearts and moved to the city. We'd been prepared for that very day since you were a child. You walked, ran and kicked a footy quicker than any kid your age. You were always determined to be the best and to do that with no help from anyone around you. And you're the best player in the league, not just because you're my son, but because of your determination." Dad paused to drink the straight liquor and my lips twitched as he coughed with the resulting burn. "But, regardless of whether you want to admit it, you were lonely."

I scoffed half-heartedly but didn't say anything. After being with Arna, where I found excitement and happiness somewhere other than the football field, I didn't have any argument in me, because he was right.

"Your mother holds a lot of resentment towards the industry too, son, but I say the same to her, there are always a few bad apples. It doesn't mean they are all out to get you. You need to let that bitterness go or it will suffocate you. I know you hold guilt, Andy. But what happened wasn't your fault. The only people who should hold that blame are those scumbags who trespassed." He paused thoughtfully before adding. "I'm not here to lecture you though."

"Feels like you are." I lamented and even I realised how pathetic I sounded.

"She made you happy. Above all else, son, you can't argue with that, and I think when you love someone you at least give them the chance to explain."

I stood up straight, my eyes shooting to his which were the same deep brown as my own.

"What do you mean love?" I weakly protested reaching for the bottle to refill my glass.

Dad's laugh echoed around the balcony and I scowled causing him to continue louder. He patted me on the shoulder in the most patronising manner before he took a retreating step.

"Shit, you have more issues than I thought," He joshed. "You know where your mother and I are and you are welcome at any time. It probably feels like I'm far too old to be giving advice but if I know anything, it's that sometimes it's easier to make a decision when you stop and listen. Don't tell your mother, but she is often right." He smiled affectionately, probably thinking of all the times that it meant he was wrong. "Oh, and unblock her number, Andy, you can't avoid everything forever."

Long after Dad left and the apartment was silent other than the heavy noise of frustration and fucking overthinking, I pondered the last week and how easy Dad made it sound. My parents lived entirely different lives though. Sure, they had also experienced the questionable ethics of the paparazzi once before but he didn't know anything about Arna and I or what it was like to be inundated every single day by bloodthirsty journalists who only cared about ratings and their pockets.

I didn't need to speak to her, I read her words so frequently I almost knew the article verbatim and it wasn't changing anything.

The woman I loved was not who I thought she was.

End of story.