The Hearts We Break (The Alphaletes Book 3), page 3
“What the hell is going on?” I ask.
She is staring at the wall behind me, but her eyes lazily come to me as she shakes her head.
“You know what’s going on.”
“No, clearly I don’t because I have some wild fucking scenarios playing in my head right now, so why don’t you spell it out for me.”
“Fine. I’m leaving, Slater. This isn’t what I signed up for. You’ve changed.”
I let out a bitter laugh as I shake my head. “No, say what you mean, Nik. My income has changed, or more accurately could change. You’re scared that your cushy lifestyle is going to disappear so you’re bailing. On seven fucking years? Over what? A few dollar signs?”
She rolls her eyes as she shakes her head. “It’s more than a few, and we both know that. We’ve been growing apart for years now. We’ve just been too comfortable to say anything.”
“You mean you’ve been too comfortable. We’ve been together for close to a decade, and you just want to throw it at all away? So what, football might be done. That’s a deal breaker for you?” I ask, hating that the hurt in my voice peeks through as she looks up at me with that same indifferent look.
“Honestly, yes. I’ve been miserable with you for years, but I knew you would always take care of me as long as I stuck around. Looks like you won’t be able to do that anymore, so why the hell would I stick around?”
Her words are like a physical blow. I stand there in stunned silence, wondering who the hell is standing in front of me. It isn’t the sweet little blonde that I met at a frat party years ago. It isn’t the girl that I spent countless nights watching the stars with as we spoke about our dreams. I don’t know who the hell this woman is.
“I honestly can’t believe you’re being this goddamn shallow. I’ve been there for you through everything. I’ve always done my best to give you anything you ever wanted. I’ve practically handed you my heart and the fucking world at your feet, and you’re just walking out on me? When I need you?”
“Your manipulations won’t work on me, Slater. I’m done fighting with you. I’ll have our lawyer draw up the divorce papers soon.”
Without another word, Nikki strides past me, grabbing the remaining two bags before wheeling them out the door and shutting it behind her with a hollow thud. I stand there frozen in place, unable to move, to think, to barely fucking breathe. That’s it? It’s just over? First football, now my wife?
Setting the cooling coffee down on the entry table, I numbly stumble over to the couch before putting my head in my hands. I can’t fucking believe this. I can’t believe this is happening. We’ve had problems, that hasn’t been a secret, but how could she just walk away like this, now of all times? My eyes begin to burn with unshed tears, but I do my best to push them back as my hand reaches into my pocket and shakily grabs my phone, dialing the only person I can think of in this moment. When they answer, I let out a choppy breath as I close my eyes.
“I need you,” I croak.
Scarlett
My heart is racing as I practically fly through the otherwise quiet streets of Slater’s posh neighborhood. I don’t know what’s going on or what happened. He wouldn’t tell me. I quite literally took one step inside my apartment when I got his call. All he said was that he needed me. When I asked if he hurt himself, he didn’t respond, just let out another shaky breath.
Was I an asshole for forcing him to only use one crutch? It’s been two weeks, he shouldn’t be on them at all, I thought I was being generous, showing a little tough love. I swear to god if he fell and hurt himself because of me, I’ll never live it down. With him or Coach Aberton.
When I get to his house, I notice Nikki’s car isn’t in the driveway, she’s probably on one of her ‘girls’ trips’ again. Shaking my head, I rush across the front porch with my emergency bag in hand. It’s not like I’m a doctor or anything, so it doesn’t have a ton inside but what it does have is the basics. The door is unlocked, so I don’t have to use my spare key before I push through.
As soon as I step inside though, I pause. The lights are off, the house silent. It takes my eyes a few moments to adjust before I see a figure sitting on the living room floor.
“Slater?” I ask carefully as I walk over to him.
He doesn’t respond which scares the living shit out of me. When I round the couch, I see that he’s leaned up against the side of it, tattooed arms laying in his lap as he stares at the blank wall in front of him with a vodka bottle in hand, taking a long pull off it before wincing.
“Slate,” I say carefully as I squat down next to him.
Still, he doesn’t respond, doesn’t even look at me. I gently rest my hand on his right leg, which finally seems to gain his attention. His brown curls fall away from his face enough to reveal him, his deep eyes flick over to me, and my breath catches at what I see. The whites of his eyes are completely red rimmed and raw, his face sullen and stoic. Slater is literally the embodiment of sunshine. When he steps inside a room, he lights up everyone and everything around him. In twenty years of friendship, I’ve never seen him look so broken, not even when Alison was diagnosed with cancer.
“Slater, talk to me,” I say softly. “Are you hurt?”
He nods slowly, his eyes still heavily on me.
“Where?”
“Everywhere,” he rasps.
I furrow my brows as he lifts the bottle to take another sip. I don’t understand. He was doing better when he left his parents’ house not even an hour ago. What could have possibly happened in such a short amount of time?
“Where is Nikki?” I ask as I slowly settle in next to him, my back resting against the plush couch as I do.
He glances up at the ceiling before squeezing his eyes shut.
“Gone,” he says roughly.
“Gone where? Look, do you want me to call her? I think-”
“No, Scar, she’s gone gone. She isn’t coming back.”
“Wait, what?”
Slater’s shoulders begin to quake with silent tears as he shakes his head. Wrapping my arms around him, I hold him tight as the man I’ve looked up to my entire life crumbles right before my eyes.
We sat on the floor for at least another twenty minutes before I was able to convince him to at least sit on the couch. I basically had to lift him and gently set him down myself since the guy could hardly stand without wobbling. Probably thanks to his nearly empty bottle.
Walking across the kitchen and into the living room, I bring a cup of black coffee to him before sitting down. Slater takes a large drink of it before setting it onto the table. We sit in silence for a few more minutes, knowing he needs the time to collect his thoughts before he finally speaks.
“When I got home, her bags were packed. Her friends were helping her take them. I guess she was hoping I wasn’t going to be home yet.”
My heart aches at the pain laced in his words. I can’t believe it. I’m honestly stunned for a number of reasons, and yet, not at all surprised at the same time. Have I mentioned that I despise Nikki to a cellular level? Because I do. A lot.
“She said that she was leaving, that this wasn’t what she signed up for-”
“Oh you mean she didn’t sign up for ‘in sickness and health?’ ‘For richer or poorer?’ I was there that day, Slater. I remember vividly as she spoke those words to you. What part of that did she not sign up for?” I practically seethe before checking my anger. Clearly it’s not going to help the situation.
“I don’t know. She said we’ve been growing apart for a while now, which she isn’t wrong about. I knew we had problems. Hell, with the way we fought, everyone knew. I never thought she would just walk out on me. Never thought she’d give up on us like that.”
Reaching over, I lace my hand with Slater’s, ignoring the light flutter feeling that always comes to me at the simplest touch from him.
“She’s a gold digger, and you’re better off without her.”
He winces at that but doesn’t defend her like he would have any other day. Instead, he just leans back against the couch and shakes his head.
“I’m fucking pathetic, Scar. I can hardly walk, I lost my career, my wife…what do I have left?” he strains as his grip on me tightens.
I reach over with my other hand and turn his face, so he’s forced to look me in the eye.
“Me. You have me, always. And you have your parents and my brothers and my dad and Seb and Erica, Mikey and Vi, even Trevor. We are all here for you, Slater.”
He stares at me for a few moments before nodding and leaning his head on my shoulder. I rest my head against his, closing my eyes as I blow out a slow breath.
“I love you, Bubbles,” he whispers softly.
My heart does a backflip, despite me telling it not to. He doesn’t mean it like that, not in the way I want him to. No matter how many times I tell the stupid organ, I swear it doesn’t take the hint. I know I’ll never have Slater’s love in that way, even if Nikki is out of the picture, but any kind of love from Slater Santos is like a gift from above.
“I love you too.”
Slater
When I blink my eyes open, at first I’m confused at what I see. I’m in my living room. On the couch. What the fuck? Even when Nikki and I fight enough to sleep separately, I take one of the five spare bedrooms.
Then it hits me, everything from yesterday sinks in, and I realize that it wasn’t some fucked up dream. My wife actually left me. Walked out without even a single backwards glance. Despite her spoiled brat attitude, her selfishness, and her obvious me first attitude…I still love her. I’ve loved her for nearly a decade. Though, I’m starting to wonder if she felt the same. She couldn’t, right? If you love someone, you work through things together, you don’t just bounce.
A soft snick of the fridge door grabs my attention. My eyes flick up to see Scar carefully cracking a few eggs into a pan. Slowly, I push myself to sit up as she glances over to me.
“Hey. How are you feeling?” she asks as she stirs her eggs.
“I’m fine.”
She bites the inside of her lip. A habit I know she only does when she has something to say.
“Spit it out, Scar,” I sigh as I begin massaging my temples.
“What?” she asks as she turns off the burner and plates her food.
“Whatever you want to say, go ahead. Spit it out.”
She opens her mouth like she’s going to argue before she shakes her head. Instead of saying anything, she sets the plate down in front of me, which has a few pieces of turkey bacon and some scrambled egg whites on it.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say quietly as she hands me a fork.
“I wanted to,” she smiles softly.
I do my best to give her a smile, but it just feels fake. I take my first bite, my body practically humming in approval when a knock comes from the door. My pulse races and my first thought is that it’s Nik. That she’s changed her mind. But as I watch Scar get up and answer the door, I know that’s stupid. Nikki Santos is not the kind of woman to knock on any door, her house or not. She flaunts in like she has every right, like everyone can’t wait to see her. Which was always true for me, at least.
“Who is it?” I ask as she pulls the door open and smiles.
“Seb?” I question as he steps inside the foyer and hugs Scar. My giant of a friend practically dwarfs her as he gives her what I know to be a genuine Seb smile before he tightens his man bun and looks towards me.
“Hey, Slate,” he says as he crosses the room to me, clapping a hand on my shoulder before coming to sit on the other side of the couch as me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
Seb shrugs as he settles back into the couch.
“Scarlett called me.”
Of course she did.
“Miss Scarlett, always a pleasure,” a familiar thick southern accent greets Scar from the front door.
“It’s good to see you too, Declan,” she smiles.
“I’ve told you it’s okay to call me Mikey,” he says with a shake of his head and a laugh. “’Bout the only people who call me by my real name are my family.”
“Mikey? The fuck? Shouldn’t you be in Tennessee with that smoking hot wife and picture perfect kids?”
He smiles at me as he shakes his head. “They’ll manage. Vi is holding down the fort for me with the help of my mama.”
“Let me guess, Scar called you too?” I ask as he steps into the living room, slapping my back lightly before dropping down into the loveseat beside me.
Declan nods as a third voice enters the room.
“Of course, she saved the best for last,” Trevor says as he steps inside. He goes to walk past Scar before he pauses in his steps, turning to face her as his eyes slowly run over her.
“Fuck, babe, is it just me or do you get hotter every time I see you?”
I shake my head and roll my eyes as Scar giggles like a schoolgirl. Can’t blame her. Nearly every woman I’ve ever met falls at her knees for Trevor Michaels. Being one of the top quarterbacks in the country paired with his blonde hair, blue eyed All American boy looks, I guess it’s not for nothing.
“Trevor,” she says with a laugh. “With lines like that, it’s a wonder why you’re single.”
“I couldn’t do that to the female population. There are way too many women who have yet to experience the pleasure of a night with me. I’m too selfless to deny them that experience. Want to be next on my roster?”
“Hmm, tempting but I think I’ll have to pass. Go ahead and move on to the next girl.”
“Trevor,” I sigh. “Stop flirting with Scar. She’s basically our sister, it’s weird.”
Trev lets out a short laugh as he makes his way over to us, setting down the duffle bag in his hand onto the coffee table before Scar speaks.
“I have to get to my appointment with Damion. You guys behave.”
“Not making any promises!” Trev calls out with a wink that earns another amused laugh from Scar before she slips out the door.
As soon as she leaves, the room is plunged into silence. It stretches for several long seconds before I look up to see all three of my best friends sharing uncomfortable glances with each other.
“How are Tuck and Rodney doing, Mikey?” I ask, trying to break this suffocating tension.
He smiles widely at the mention of his kids.
“Good. Rodney is pulling himself up on furniture, so he’ll be walking any day now. Tuck just started peewee football."
"No shit? What position?” I ask.
Mikey laughs and shakes his head. “It’s peewee football, Slate. They rotate positions.”
I smile softly at that as I nod before turning to Seb.
“How are the girls doing? They liking kindergarten?”
Seb nods. “Yeah, their teacher is great, and now that they are in school, Erica is getting a bit of her sanity back, which is good for everyone.”
“I couldn’t believe Rosie when I saw her,” Trevor says softly with a shake of his head. “She is a spitting image of Erica.”
His voice turns wistful at that, which has Mikey and I exchanging glances. Seb’s brows furrow as he sits up straighter.
“When did you see the girls?”
Trevor shrugs. “Erica and the girls FaceTimed me last week for a bit.”
A pinched look takes over Seb’s face as Trevor’s gaze falls to the ground. There is a long story to the whole Sebastian-Erica-Trevor love triangle. It happened years ago back in college, and for the most part, they are able to get along at least well enough for everyone else’s sake. But if your, at one time, best friend was still in love with your wife eight years later how would you handle it? Seb’s a better man than I. The fact that Trev and Erica still talk regularly would bug the living shit out of me, no matter how much we all know her entire world is Seb and the girls.
“How are you feeling?” Mikey asks, his eyes on me as Trev and Seb both face me as well.
“I’m fine, Mikey,” I say as I lean back into the chair.
He frowns as he shakes his head. “Slater, your wife just left you, man. You shouldn’t be fine, it’s okay to not be okay.”
“I don’t want to talk about her,” I say as my eyes flick up to the cathedral ceilings in the house. “I just want to drink, forget about how shitty my life has become over the last two weeks, and hang out.”
“In that case…” Trevor says as he reaches into his duffle bag and pulls out three bottles that have my eyebrows raising to my hairline at the label.
“Pappy Van Winkle? Really, Trev?” Mikey laughs with a shake of his head. “Isn’t that stuff like a grand a bottle?”
“More like two to five grand a bottle, if you get the really good stuff, and we aren’t going to drink Pappy and not drink the good stuff,” Trevor says as he makes his way over to the bar Nikki insisted I have built in the corner of the room, grabbing four crystal glasses before setting them down on the table.
He fills each one up near to the top before holding the glass in the air in toast as a complicated look takes over his face when his eyes meet mine.
“To forgetting, even if it’s just for a little while.”
Hey, I’ll fucking drink to that.
“So, I’m about to finish, right? Then all of the sudden, the door gets fucking kicked open and a guy in military clothes walks in looking like a fucking bull ready to charge,” Trev says before he pauses dramatically. “He was a fucking Marine!”
We all laugh at that, even Seb who I swear only laughs for his girls as Trevor sprawls out on the couch across from me and pours the rest of the last bottle of Pappy. I know what you’re thinking. Did we really spend an entire day just getting drunk so that I could avoid my problems? Yes. Am I absolutely shit tagged because of it? Also yes.
“Fuck, man. I’m starving,” Seb grumbles as he stands up and sways for a minute before making his way to the kitchen.
“Of course you are!” I call out. “You’re fucking 6’6, you’re probably insatiable.”
