My phone flashed, the call ended.

  I stood there for a moment, staring at the dark phone. Eventually, I sank down to the bed, my hand pushing to my mouth and settling over it. I didn’t know what to say to that, what he’d said.

  Mostly, because he was right.

  He came in three times a day. Like clockwork, he was never a minute early or a minute late. And he brought the same thing every time, food… and a smile.

  “Turkey today,” he said at lunch, but only after he knocked first. He always knocked. The tone would be a soft patter, hesitant before opening the door. His leather shoes would take him in, a plate of food in his large hand. He set it just as hesitantly on the end table by the bed. That’s where I was today, the bed with my knees propped up, my arms lain over them as I stared of the window. Outside started to warm, odd for late February and people only wore light jackets, the oak trees still bare from winter.

  My dad stepped back, hands clasped. I didn’t face him, but I heard him. He did the same thing every day.

  “I hope you’ll go outside again today. It’s a nice day,” he said, again he had that same hesitance, caution with every word and step he made into this room. “I’ll be back to get your plate.”

  And then, he left. He left and my shoulders dropped, the bracing I’d done from anticipation. It had been days and I still had it. I couldn’t help it I supposed. A defense mechanism.

  Ignoring the food, I grabbed the laptop nearby, something he had once again provided for me. So many things he’d provided. I showed up at my dad’s door and he’d done nothing but let me in. I barely said anything to him that day, consistent with how things were now. I simply asked him two things: could I stay for a little while, and could he call Griffin.

  Let him know I was okay.

  I’d left him a note, but it wasn’t much and I didn’t want him to worry. I just… I couldn’t call him myself. I needed to be away and I believed he needed me to be away for now.

  My dad had been more than accommodating with my request, telling me he’d do what I asked of him, and didn’t ask anything after that. It didn’t seem to matter why I’d come to him. He didn’t seem to care. He simply brought me to a room, one with a purple comforter, framed art of lilies and daffodils. Even the wooden bedpost and bedroom furniture had flowers. They were carved intricately into the work. All beautiful, all feminine when the rest of his two story Victorian had nothing but a distinguished scholar feel to it. Every thing was polished and crisp with a rather dry personality. Everything but this room with the flowers. I wouldn’t let myself believe he’d prepared a space for me despite my more than physical distance from him.

  I wouldn’t believe he maintained a place for me.

  Instead, I dug into a day of the same, the Internet my spyglass into the world. I only searched one thing, the information abound. My dad had walked in on me one of those days. I could imagine he knocked like he always did, but so engrossed in my search, I didn’t hear him come in. I wondered if he noticed what I stared at, the gossip, and a life so far away. But when he came in with my dinner dish later that night, the plate wasn’t the only thing he left me with. He’d said everything would be okay. He had said the world would forget.

  I hoped so, for him. Griffin.

  The days passed and I continued to drown in it, the world far from forgetting, and though at first, the news articles had focused on me, my past, I did eventually slip away. My dad had been right. The world outside of here started to forget about me, and I had a feeling a press team in Miami had something to do with that. Pretty soon, I couldn’t be found, not a word, not a byline, but once gone, a part of me missed that the media had decided to let go. Because once the stories were gone…

  He was gone too.

  And so were his calls. He used to call me multiple times a day. Even though I had my dad call him, he did still, but then they stopped abruptly.

  Why had they stopped?

  I shouldn’t question that. I had no right to question that. But even so, I did. I couldn’t help it I guess. I missed him so much, but…

  I couldn’t go back. I messed everything up. His life, and if I remained a part of it, I know I’d be the constant thing between us, the problem he had to drop all things to fix and make sure I always had it together. I didn’t have it all together, and he was right about that.

  I knew that now.

  Feeling the ache of it all over again, I pushed the computer aside and lay out on the bed. I did that until he came in again, my dad.

  “Let me know if you want something different,” he said, taking my lunch. “I noticed you haven’t been eating much of what I’ve been giving you.”

  I closed my eyes, the tears running down over the bridge of my nose to my pillow. Thank goodness I faced the wall. Thank goodness he couldn’t see.

  “I’ll bring you dinner in a few hours. Pork chops tonight.”

  Pork chops. I used to love his pork chops. The tears dripped again.

  The door closed with a near-silent click and I figured silence. Silence until dinner time, but then the door opened again. That was unexpected. Not like clockwork at all.

  “I don’t mean to bother you again,” he said like he knew this was different. Off our schedule. “But you have someone to see you.”

  I turned, finally facing him. He had eyes I saw in the mirror quite often. Not the color, but the worry. The only difference was the age lines, deep folds in his dark skin.

  His salt and pepper eyebrows rose. Like he didn’t anticipate me looking at him, but that shock left quickly. His lips moving, they turned up into a small smile. “Is it okay if she comes in?” he asked.

  I didn’t know who was here to see me. No one knew I was here, but I nodded anyway, and as soon as he did, left, I think I knew. I knew only one person still here, two if you count her girlfriend. And as soon as I saw her… As soon as I saw her blue eyes and spiky short bob…

  Clare cried too, salty tears leaking down her round cheeks and streaking her mascara.

  “Oh, my god, Rox,” she said, climbing into bed with me. She put her arms around me and I lost whatever little strength I had left. Moving into the space at her neck, I let it all go, the tears flowing in a constant stream, and how I imagined the pair of us looked, her so much smaller than me while she comforted me. From over her shoulder, the door closed, a man softly smiling as he did.

  The two of us stayed there like that. Little words exchanged between us. Then later, we fell asleep there like that, but I think only me. In and out of sleep, Clare’s hand moved through my hair, and in that time, dinner had made it to the end table. Pork chops. Two plates that time.

  “You should eat something,” she told me after my dad had cleared. She didn’t make a move to grab either plate though. She only held me, never letting go. I recalled a similar time when both of us were in tears. Back then, the roles had been reversed, and now, she was here for me.

  I shook my head, opting for no words. I hadn’t been able to say many lately. To anyone, not just her.

  Clare sighed, her tiny body moving up and down. She smelled like flowers. Like my friend. “Why did you run? Why did you run, Roxie?”

  That question had so many answers. There were just too many, and during my silence, her hand continued to move through my hair, not pushing me, not making me. But then suddenly, she pulled away, and when she did, a smile was on her lips.

  “I talk to him every day,” she said, pushing a finger under my wet eyes. “This isn’t good for either of you. Not at all, Roxie. You’re both suffering.”

  I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t hear the words. She didn’t understand. How could she as I’d kept her out just as much as him?

  “Don’t hide. You’re hiding here, and, Roxie, he’s someone you don’t have to hide from. He loves you so much. He won’t go. Not like your mom. Your dad.”

  Clare knew it all. She did. Once I opened up to Griffin, she’d been the one I had also completely let in. But Griffin leaving wasn’t the problem. No, it was the opposite.

  “That’s why I can’t,” I finally said, looking away. “I can’t go back. All the shit, I bring with me? I can’t do that do him. I make things so hard for him.”

  “But isn’t that the point, though?” she asked me, tilting her head. “Easy is easy, Roxie. Easy isn’t life.”

  “But if I could prevent it? Make it so he doesn’t have to go through that.”

  “You need him,” she paused, placing her hands on my cheeks. “You can’t choose who you love, Rox. You can’t choose who you need. And he can handle the hard. He needs you just as much as you need him.”

  But what if that need was unbalanced? What if I needed him far more than he needed me? Because that was my greatest fear. That my need outweighed his. Because if that were true, we’d be one sided. Maybe for the rest of our lives and that wouldn’t be fair to him.

  It wouldn’t be right.

  Mickey gripped my hand across the threshold of his office, giving a small Mickey smile.

  “How’re you doing?” he asked bringing me into a hug.

  I embraced him back, slapping his back once before pulling away. “I’ve been better,” I admitted, pulling the best smile I could, but she was still gone. She still hadn’t come home to me.

  He knew that I as told him all updates, and his continued empathy shown when he nodded his head. He gestured me to his desk, getting down to business right away. I liked that, kept me from thinking about anything else.

  I took a seat and he passed me the tiny basketball on his desk, which of course I caught. I shot without question, to that familiar basket behind his head. Acing it with a swish, I sat back and Mickey lifted his finger, pointing at me.

  “That was a test,” he said, reaching for some paperwork bundled up on his desk. “I guess I believe you when you say you’re ready to go back now.”

  Go back now. Back to playing and ending the leave from my team. I could imagine he would question it. My entire family had, as well as my Gram and Aunt Robin before I made them finally go back home to Texas. They wouldn’t leave at first even though they knew Roxie was safe and staying with her dad. They stayed a few more days, in which I showed them the sights of the city, something they weren’t able to do when they came down. But eventually, I convinced them to head home, but not before discussing my decision to go back to my team. They did the discussing with myself doing nothing but listening. Even still, they couldn’t convince me otherwise. They couldn’t have a talk with me I didn’t already debate with myself. I had to go back. I couldn’t let my mind stew anymore. All sitting at home did for me was force me to think about Roxie. Her things surrounded me. She and the life we built surrounded me.

  And I felt like I was drowning every day because of it.

  “I told you I was,” I told Mickey now. He also had his reservations, if I actually was ready. He worked out a nice leave for me, which I’d only taken half of. “Sitting at home isn’t doing anything for me, but making me lazy.”

  And making me hurt, making drown.

  Mickey grinned, the expression full. “Well, I made some calls today. I can move forward with getting you back on the court. I just have to get your confirmation.”

  I nodded, giving him that. I wanted to get this show on the road.

  I had to sign a few things, write out a couple of statements for the press, and while I did, I thought about Rich.

  “Is Rich joining us?” It wasn’t like I wanted the dude here, but I could imagine he would want to get in talks for me to go completely back to work. Get my face out there again and all that, but at the mention of Rich, Mickey did the weirdest thing. He paused for a second while he was writing. He paused, but then he started again, not missing a beat.

  “He won’t be joining us,” he said, his head down, and I eyed him, shaking my head. He chose to look up in that moment, but only once before he continued writing. “I’ve fired him.”

  Okay. Wasn’t expecting that.

  I sat back. “Why?”

  He lounged in his chair himself, drawing a hand down his mouth before speaking. “He went a little too far on an issue. I felt it best we part ways. He’ll being coming by the office, but only to pick up his last check. After that, our business is concluded.”

  He was being really tightlipped here and that wasn’t lost on me. Turned out, the fact wasn’t lost on him either. He let out a breath, tilting his head. “He admitted to being the leak in regards to Roxie’s videos.”

  I froze, not believing what I was hearing. “He what?”

  “He thought it would be a good publicity stunt.”

  A stunt. A stunt. My life, Roxie’s life, was a stunt to him?

  Shaking, I pressed a firm hand to my legs. It was all I could do to keep myself from getting up and doing something I’d regret.

  I knew there was something about that dude. I fuckin’ knew it.

  “And on top of that,” Mickey continued, and I honestly didn’t know how I heard him. I was consumed by nothing but red. “He found out by going through Roxie’s bag. When she visited you in Atlanta, she dropped off her bag for the concierge to check for her flight. Apparently, he intercepted after she left the hotel. He went through the bag, found her computer, and well, yes that’s how he discovered her history. While we were doing damage control, he admitted everything. We were so buried, I guess he felt he needed to, so I knew what we were dealing with.”

  “I want to press charges,” came out of my mouth. But really, that’s the only thing that should have. “For me and Roxie. I want to press charges.”

  That guy had no fuckin’ right to do what he’d done. I’d lost her because of him. I’d lost her. She wouldn’t come home and I didn’t know if she ever would now that I stepped back, gave her the time her dad said she needed. It was unforgivable what Rich had done.

  Unforgivable.

  Mickey acknowledged my request with a nod, but I had to say, he didn’t look like he agreed. That confirmed when he opened his mouth.

  “I will do what you want, but I do advise you take a moment to think about this. You both have been through a lot.”

  “All the more reason. Tell him to lawyer up.” Sitting back, I was done with this topic. I was done with the whole damn thing.

  “Very well.” Picking up his phone, he made a call, and my thoughts stewed again while he did. I couldn’t believe someone could be so ruthless, but then again, I did. I had bad vibes about that guy since I met him. I just wish I would have listen to my instincts. I let him play me, me and Roxie. She gave me advice once about that, not allowing people to take advantage of me. How right my girl was. She was always right. Always.

  Mickey hung up the phone. “I’ve made an appointment with your legal counsel. I’ll send you the changes in your schedule for it.”

  “Thank you. And thanks for having my back. Getting rid of that guy.” This wasn’t the first time he had it, my back.

  He tapped his fists on his desk once, leaning back. “Of course. I suppose he was right about one thing. It did get your name in the news.” He smirked to the air, shaking his head. “Bastard.”

  He had kinder words and no doubt less violent thoughts about him. If I had it my way, he’d be black and blue on the ground.

  “But all that’s fixed so you don’t have to worry about it,” Mickey continued. “It seems the press moved on to the next story of the week. Staying low key was good.”

  “Man, Mick, the press is the last thing…” Looking away, I didn’t see the point in continuing. The press, I couldn’t give a shit about. My fiancée was gone either way and I was left with no way to change that. Respecting her wishes to stay away was damn hard and it took its toll on me every day.

  Mickey sighed before me. “She’s no closer to coming back?” he asked, almost like he was in my head.

  If she was, he’d know. He’d know because I wouldn’t be here right now ready to go back to work. I’d be with her. We’d be together helping her get through this, her struggles. I remained silent, but Mickey’s words had me facing forward.

  “If I may, Griff,” he said, and his face lined with a seriousness, a seriousness that told me to listen. “If I may offer some advice. I don’t want to speak out of turn.”

  I opened my hands to him, giving him the floor. Anything he said definitely wouldn’t hurt me. It couldn’t possibly. I’d been beaten to the point of numbness by the situation already.

  “This arrangement,” he started, “for both you and Roxie is new, and I believe this time she’s taking away is her filtering through it. She’s figuring her way and that’s hers. We all deal with things in different ways. So while she does, I think you should figure out yours, take your own time to figure out things for yourself. I don’t think it would hurt to think about just you for once, what you want.”

  His words sat with me as they always did when he gave me advice. They did because I trusted him. I always had. He shook my hands moments later, telling me he’d handle everything I asked him to. He patted my back, sending me along my way. And though I left feeling lighter, I did feel mixed up too. The reason for which I had no idea why. Perhaps, it was all the stress. Yeah, stress.

  I was making my way out when my strides met an obstacle, my gaze settling on a face I wanted to do nothing but slam in.

  Rich stood tall, turning from the secretary he just spoke to. It didn’t surprise me he was here. Mickey said he was coming by to get his last payment like the snake he was. But still, I figured I’d miss him.

  He probably should have hoped for that scenario.

  I stalked toward him, my gaze solid on target. I no doubt looked a bit heated and I’d admit that. That’s probably why his gaze wavered and went behind me.

  “Security,” he said calmly, lifting his hand, and I turned, seeing that very uniform. Something told me Mickey’s detail would probably back me up if I decided to break Rich’s legs from underneath him. Mickey was on my side after all, but suddenly, I didn’t feel like giving Rich the satisfaction that he got to me.