Michelle Betham - Final Score

‘Has it?’ His eyes never left hers, his hand reaching out to gently touch her cheek. ‘You know where I am. If you need me.’

She felt that all-too-familiar wave of confusion wash over her once more as she watched him walk away, out of the ground. Her first love. Her ex-husband. Her obsession.

‘What did he want?’ Ronnie asked, sidling up beside her, his gaze following Amber’s.

‘Nothing.’

‘You use that word a lot, as far as answers to questions are concerned.’

She turned to face him. ‘Okay. Well, maybe I should expand on that answer, then. It’s got nothing to do with you .’

‘Nice.’

She threw herself down into one of the chairs that graced the huge entrance atrium, leaning her head right back and letting out a quiet but heavy sigh. ‘How the hell did I end up here?’

Ronnie sat down on the arm of the chair, clasping his hands together. ‘Because you never really were as strong as you thought you were.’

Amber glared at him.

‘As far as men are concerned. As far as one man is concerned.’

She sat up, dropping her head into her hands and burying her fingers in her hair, letting loose another frustrated groan. ‘Two years ago I was happy, Ronnie. I had a great job, independence, a life I could control… and now look at me. I’m nothing but an over-emotional wreck with a complicated, fucked-up life!’

‘You’ve got an incredible career, Amber. And you’ve got Rico. There’s nothing fucked-up or complicated about that.’

She looked at him again. ‘Rico is the best thing that ever happened to me, Ronnie. He’s the only thing I’ve got right in the past few months. But I’m not talking about my career, or my baby. They’re good, I know they are. It’s everything else that’s fucked-up.’

‘So, like I said, do something about it.’

‘Like what?’

‘Jesus, Amber, what are we on here? Some kind of loop? I don’t know, kiddo. Just… follow your heart, okay?’

‘Follow my heart…’ She trailed off, looking outside. Jim was standing at the bottom of the steps that led up to the entrance, talking to a small group of fans. He was laughing, and she felt her stomach twist and turn again as he threw his head back, laughing some more.

Ronnie’s eyes followed her gaze again. ‘Maybe following your heart isn’t such a good idea.’

‘I can’t leave him alone, Ronnie. I’m like a schoolgirl with this ridiculous, obsessive crush.’ She trailed off again as she realised just what it was she was saying. That was how it had all started in the first place, wasn’t it? Jim Allen, an American twenty-seven-year-old, hotshot football player who’d walked into her life when she’d been nothing but a teenager and rocked her entire world. Forever. That schoolgirl crush had never gone away. It had never really faded. And he knew that. So, was she doing the right thing by letting him think she was always going to be there? Even if she was. ‘I can’t let him go,’ she whispered.

‘You should try.’

‘You told me to follow my heart.’

‘I know.’ Ronnie sighed, standing up, his tone one of defeat now. ‘I know I did. I just thought you’d be more sensible than to head off in that direction, considering you know where it’s going to take you.’

She looked at him, something akin to guilt mixed with a hint of fear swamping her. She really didn’t have a clue what she was doing here. She only knew she was going to do it, and to hell with the consequences. ‘You think I’m making a mistake, don’t you?’

Ronnie held her gaze for a few, long seconds. ‘The biggest one of your life.’

‘Jesus, Brandon, what do you want?’

‘Good to see you, too, Dad.’

Jim sighed, standing aside to let his son through into the hall. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just been a long day. Derby matches always seem to drain me more than any others.’

‘At least your side won.’

Jim couldn’t help but smile as he followed Brandon into the living room. ‘You did your best to stop that from happening.’

‘Yeah. I did my best.’ He walked over to the fireplace, turning around and folding his arms as he looked at his father. ‘Who’s Carrie Jackson?’

Jim almost dropped the glass of whiskey he was holding, then leant back against the sideboard to steady himself.

‘Who is she, Dad?’

Jim poured himself another drink, turning his back on Brandon. ‘It’s none of your business.’

‘Is she the reason you can’t let yourself be happy? The reason you won’t let yourself be happy?’

Jim turned back around, his expression telling Brandon he was in no mood to talk about this. ‘I’m shutting this conversation down, Brandon. Right now.’

‘Is she the reason you push people away?’

‘I won’t tell you again, son.’

‘Like you pushed Amber away?’

‘She was pregnant with another man’s baby.’

‘That wasn’t the fucking reason, Dad, and you know it.’ Brandon’s eyes were holding Jim’s gaze now, refusing to let go. ‘You are still crazy-in-love with her, but you just can’t let yourself be happy.’

‘If you know all of this…’

‘All I know is the name, Dad. All I know is you were once in a relationship with a girl called Carrie Jackson. That’s all I know. Because I wanted you to tell me the rest. I wanted you to tell me the reason why she affected your life so much you won’t let yourself be happy with a woman you are so obviously in love with.’

Jim narrowed his eyes as he stared at his son. ‘Have you… have you been checking up on me?’

‘The internet is a wonderful tool, Dad. You’d be amazed at what you can find out after just a half hour of searching.’

‘I don’t believe this…’ He downed his whiskey, slamming the glass down onto the sideboard behind him, a mixture of panic and fear washing over him. He was losing control again, and he didn’t like that. It never made him feel comfortable. Losing control wasn’t something Jim Allen liked to make a habit of. ‘You need to go, Brandon. Now. Please. I really need you to go.’

Brandon held up his hands in defeat, shaking his head as he walked over to the door, stopping when he reached Jim. ‘You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Dad. Acting like some kind of robot who pushes his feelings to one side. Someone who finds happiness – who actually has it right there in his hands, and then just lets it go, as though it means nothing. When it actually means everything. You can’t keep on doing this, because it’ll destroy you.’

Jim grabbed Brandon’s arm as he walked out of the door. ‘I get scared, Brandon.’

‘Who was she, Dad?’

Jim looked down, letting go of Brandon’s arm, signalling the end of the conversation. It was over. Done. Finished. For now.

Brandon left without saying another word. Jim waited until he heard the front door slam shut before pouring himself yet another drink, the alcohol doing little to numb those feelings that short conversation with his son had caused to resurface.

As he felt totally unexpected tears fill his eyes, he furiously blinked them back, refusing to let this bring him down. He just had to put it back where it belonged, out of his mind, out of reach, and carry on. Just like he had been doing ever since. Just like he needed to do again.

*

Amber closed the car door and leaned back against it, shutting her eyes as the cold north-easterly wind whipped across her face. But it was a reality she needed to feel before she stepped back inside a bubble she knew full well she should be steering clear of. It had burst so many times she couldn’t really keep count any more, but it was a bubble she needed to be in right now. She needed him, needed his touch, his kiss; she needed to feel him inside her. She needed that.