The Problem with Sports - M.E. Clayton Page 0,39

“But it slipped my mind with that mess at my parents last night. I-”

“There never should have been anything to tell me,” I snapped, my composure lost. “The second Grant asked you if we were dating, you should have walked him back home, so we could have that conversation together.”

“I didn’t tell him we were dating, though,” he argued. “I just told him I liked you.”

I scoffed.

Was he really so clueless?

“You’re Nathan Hayes,” I reminded him incredulously. “You tell a little boy, whose entire life is sports, that you like his mom, and you don’t think he’s going to get excited and hopeful?” I shook my head. “Breaking up with you isn’t like breaking up with some unassuming insurance salesman, Nate. Grant adores you. He adored you even before we met because you represent everything that he loves in life. What in the hell did you think he would think if you told him you liked his mother?”

“I was blindsided, okay?” he said, trying to excuse his error in judgement. “But I never told him we were dating. I just-”

“But you might as well have,” I argued. “A famous professional baseball player tells him that he like his mother, and Grant couldn’t see past the excitement long enough to understand the difference. He’s eight-years-old, Nate, not twenty-eight.”

“Look-”

“From the beginning, you have been coming into our lives with all the finesse of a wrecking ball,” I continued. “I’ve had to tell you, several times, to back off when it came to Grant, and you’ve completely disrespected my wishes.” He went to open his mouth, but I didn’t stop. “I’ve been completely honest with you about being gun shy and wanting to take things slow and why. I have made myself as clear as can be with my situation and my demons, and you just don’t care.”

“That’s not fair!” he exploded. “How can you say I don’t care? Because of one little fuck-up?”

“One little fuck-up? Are you serious?” I seethed. “This wasn’t just one little fuck-up, Nathan. Disrespecting my wishes is not some minor offense that can be waved away. Especially, when it involves my son.”

Nathan crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that you talking or your ex-husband?” he asked coolly, and I could feel my entire body lock up.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, he is your ex, right? Because, I gotta tell you, it sure doesn’t seem that way with all the liberties he takes and how chummy the two of you are.”

If I thought I was seething before, that was nothing compared to the rage boiling in my veins right now. “Chummy?”

“Yeah, chummy,” he repeated. “It seems like all your objections are his objections.”

“Just because you and your ex-wife can’t get along for the sake of your children, doesn’t mean men and Steven aren’t allowed to be friends,” I snapped.

Nathan’s arms dropped to his side and confusion marred his perfect face. He shook his head, and his forehead furrowed as he looked at me. “What are you talking about? I don’t have an ex-wife or any children.”

“Exactly,” I snarled. “You stand there, judging the type of relationship I have with Steven, when you have no fucking clue what it’s like to be divorce and have to make things work for the sake of your child’s happiness.” I could feel my nose tingle with the onset of some tears, but I was so livid, I didn’t have enough control to stop whatever tears might escape. “Your parents are still happily married, and neither you nor your brothers have ever gone through their own divorce. But you’re going to stand there and spout bullshit like you understand what it’s like? You’re going to comment on mine and Steven’s friendship when you have no idea the pain, regret, and torment we went through to be able to be the friends we are now?” I let out a deep sigh of disgust. “Would you rather we hated each other, and Grant be left to lead a life where his parents used him as a bargaining chip, or shattered his innocence with fights and name-calling?”

“Andr-”

“We already wrecked that precious kid’s life when we got a divorce, but your ego and insecurities are so fragile, we have to ruin his life some more just so you don’t feel threatened?” I shook my head in repugnance and disappointment. “Spoken like a true spoiled athlete who isn’t used to the word no.”

“Just like I don’t know what it’s like to be a father or divorced, you don’t know what