just having a conversation with us. We all nod encouragingly, and then I hit the live button for him to start talking.
“Hey everyone.” His voice is subdued. “I’ve never gone live before, but I wanted to come on here today for two reasons. The first is to let you know I’m doing well. Doctors are confident I’ll be able to start my physical therapy in the next week, and the swelling is nearly gone. My wife has been forcing me to do my leg exercises to help get me strong and healthy.” He glances at me and waves me over. I shake my head, and he says quietly, “Come on.”
This was not one of the talking points.
I walk over and smile and wave at the camera, wishing I would’ve at least had time to fix my hair. I hear my mother’s voice in my head. Put on a little lipstick!
I get out of the shot as soon as I can.
“That was her, and she’s been amazing through all this along with my best friend Josh Nolan and Coach Thompson.” He draws in a deep breath. “The second reason I wanted to come on today is to talk about something my ex-wife is publishing in the news. I guess she has some evidence of a mistake I made early in my career, and I just want to address it before it hits the gossip sites. Eight years ago, I took some meds I didn’t know were banned. I trusted someone I never should have trusted, and it got me into trouble. I’m sorry for anyone I’ve disappointed because of this, and most of all, I’m sorry to my family and friends. I’m sorry to those who’ve kept this secret for many years, and I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful about it sooner. I will take whatever punishment the league decides I deserve, and if you feel the need to judge me, do it by my proven performance on the field and the character I’ve demonstrated over the last eight years.” He presses his lips together. “I can’t wait to return next season stronger than ever because of the hard work I will put in to get healthy the right, legal way. Thank you.”
I end the live chat and click off my phone before any of us talk. He did what he was supposed to do, and he made no mention of Jack. That way, his brother can address the news however he wants.
And now we wait for the proverbial shit to hit the fan.
CHAPTER 15
“Time for your stretches,” I call from the kitchen. It’s Sunday evening, my night to cook, and this week I went for an easy pork tenderloin with rice and roasted vegetables. I’ve just finished cutting up the veggies to put them in the oven and I have a couple minutes to help.
I head into the family room, where Luke’s on the couch watching football as he has been all day (–slash—all week). The Aces won today, and handily against what Luke proclaimed to be the worst team in the league as he yelled at the television.
“Stretches,” I demand, and he huffs out a sigh. I widen my eyes pointedly. I’m not really in any mood to deal with his petulance.
He caves with reluctance as he gets his leg into place for the first exercise. I help him hold it there. All the exercises together take about ten minutes, but you’d think it takes all day based on how hard it is to get him to do them.
It’s been a fairly quiet weekend given what Luke confessed to on his Instagram live the other day, and I keep waiting for the phone to ring.
It hasn’t.
Or maybe it has and Luke has ignored it. On the other hand...maybe it has and Luke just hasn’t told me.
Though the people who’d call have been a little busy with things like, you know, football games. Now that the day games are over and the Sunday night game is set to begin in just forty-five minutes, most of the teams are either home or traveling back, and the league can start looking into this scandal.
At least, according to Luke they can.
And no sooner do I run all that through my thought process than Luke’s phone starts to ring.
He checks the screen and mutters a curse. “Hey, Jack,” he answers. He puts it on speaker and sets it beside him on the couch as we start the heel slides.
I hold my reaction inside, but anxiety