Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,95

“I’ve imagined the perfect house with a perfect baby and a perfect love—”

“Stop,” Regan said. “There is no perfect.”

“How can that be?” I asked. “You’re perfect.”

She let herself weep. “Perfect is an illusion. It’s a way to live a life that is crippled with insecurity and heartbreak. I’ve spent my years keeping a perfect house, making perfect meals, raising perfect children, and performing a perfect job. And do you know what I miss most?”

“What?”

“The days when I could leave a plate in the sink after dinner and take a walk with your father. The times I wore only a messy pony tail because I knew he’d always find me beautiful. The mornings when I’d let the bed stay unmade because I knew someone would wait for me in the rumpled blankets that night.” She lowered her gaze. “The only time I was ever truly perfect was when I was with him.”

“I…had no idea.”

“I never shared. I never told you that what I do now, the life that I live, is fake. I’ve been pretending.”

“I understand,” I said. “More than you realize.”

“I hope you don’t, for your sake. This is the flawed life of a woman who never learned to love again. It’s the shell of someone who pretended for so long that everything was okay. I lied to myself for twenty-five years.”

“Mom…”

“No, Rory.” She never called me by my nickname before, but she smiled as she said it. “You don’t want to be perfect. You want those little messes. You want the complications. You want the man you love, despite his flaws and stubbornness. You’re strong enough to survive being beautifully imperfect. And I love you so much for it.”

“I love you too.”

“Don’t give up on Jude,” she said. “No one deserves a broken heart, least of all someone as loving as you.”

I waved her close. She reached out, stiffly, but I pulled her into a hug.

She was right. I loved Jude. Nothing should have stopped me from standing by his side. Not a game, not another season, not even any of the consequences to his future health.

I couldn’t stop him from playing, but I sure as hell could be there to cheer him on.

And once the game was done?

I’d prove to him he had more in this life than just football.

He’d have a family.

23

Jude

The shoulder pads weighed heavy on my back.

I stretched the jersey over the pads. The number thirty-six was emblazoned on the front. I stared at myself in the mirror, running a hand over the uniform.

None of the other guys admired themselves, but I permitted myself a moment of vanity. Hell, I’d trained my entire life for the opportunity to take the field and guide my team to the ultimate victory. If no other memory stuck in my head, I’d make sure I remembered this moment.

But instead of a champion, I saw only the dark circles under my eyes. The tremor in my hand. The scruff on my chin.

I’d lost weight. Most guys did this late in the season. The pain caught up to us, and only the prospect of a championship gave us the endorphins and adrenaline to step onto the field.

And the drugs.

We all loved the drugs.

The redheaded trainer had been an ally this year—treating migraines, broken noses, twisted ankles, and jammed fingers with decorum. I’d spent six months with her, saw her every day, recognized her fiery red hair. I couldn’t remember her name.

But she smiled anyway. Held up the syringe.

“Torodol injection,” she said. “You know the routine.”

Affectionately called Vitamin T, the drug was only way the team could face another bruising game. The anti-inflammatory didn’t take all the pain away, but it dulled the edge. Every man had a bruise on his ass from the injection site, but no one complained. It was better than the alternatives.

I winced as she injected it, but the trainer only nodded. “Good luck out there, Jude. Be careful.”

“Thanks.”

She tended to the offensive line next. The guys already had their pants down for her, but Elle snapped the candid photo before the trainer got there.

“One for the victory party, boys!” The camera hadn’t left her hand all week. “I’ll frame this one!”

Lachlan swept her into his arms. “If you want a picture, Red, all you gotta do is ask.”

“I have enough photos of your ass, Charming.” She winked to the team. “On and off the field.”

The guys cheered. Lachlan slapped his ass and pulled Elle close for a kiss.

I couldn’t watch any more. I had to warm-up anyway.