better for her - nate jacobs

shadows on the sideline

Author: Hii!! So in this chapter, it's light on the dialogue But bear with me, the juicy stuff will come! Also this chapter is longer as I was MIA and I'm back so here you go!! I'm thinking of publishing chapters on Fridays, what do you all think? Let me know and of course leave feedback and ideas of what you want to see.

Natalie's POV:

I took a deep breath and rapped my knuckles on the light brown door. Mrs. Jacobs opened it, and I stammered, "Um... Hi, Mrs. Jacobs... I'm not really sure why I'm here, but Nate asked me to come to his game tonight, and I was wondering if I could wear one of his jerseys..." My gaze dropped to the floor.
"Of course, Natalie. Why don't you come on in?" Mrs. Jacobs smiled, and I hesitantly entered. She led me to the kitchen, where Cal was waiting. Our eyes locked, and an awkward silence filled the room.

I know a secret about Cal that he is aware that I know.

"How's the baby, Natalie?" Cal's question cut through the tension without hesitation.
"Cal, don't be rude. At least greet her first," Marsha scolded him with a serious look.
"No, it's okay... The baby is doing good. I've been taking the prenatal," I replied with a weak smile.
"You know, we're here to support you, Natalie. The same way your family has supported us," Cal said, taking a sip of his drink.
"Natalie, I'll go get one of Nate's jerseys for you. I'll be right back," Marsha smiled before leaving the room. As Marsha left the room, the atmosphere remained tense. Cal's eyes softened, and he said, "Natalie, I know things have been complicated, but we genuinely care about you and the baby. It's like an extended family, you know?"
I nodded, appreciating the somewhat sincerity in his words. "I never expected to find myself in this situation," I admitted, feeling a mixture of vulnerability and gratitude for their unexpected support. Marsha returned with a neatly folded jersey in hand. "Here you go, dear. Nate's lucky to have someone like you by his side," she said warmly, handing me the jersey. I wouldn't even say I'm by his side after this situation.
"Thank you, Mrs. Jacobs. I appreciate this," I replied, feeling a bit more at ease by her comfort.
As I clutched the jersey, Cal broke the silence, "Look, Natalie, regardless of everything, we want what's best for you and the baby. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out." I start feeling a certain way, not understanding why Cal was so persistent about the baby and I.
A genuine smile crossed my face, and I said, "Thank you, Cal. I'll keep that in mind."

I know Cal was being mostly fake with me. I think it's just his way of getting me to continue being quiet about his secret.

The conversation shifted, and soon we found ourselves discussing the upcoming game, diverting our attention away from the complexities of the situation. Marsha, with her warm hospitality, seemed determined to create a sense of normalcy in the midst of uncertainty. After a while, I excused myself, thanking Cal And Marsha for their hospitality. With Nate's jersey in hand, I left their home, the weight of the situation still lingering. The cool evening air provided a welcome contrast to the emotional intensity inside. As I drove to Nate's football game, my thoughts swirled with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. The jersey in the passenger seat served as a tangible connection to the complexities of my life intertwining with his.
Arriving at the stadium, the buzz of the crowd and the distant roar of cheers heightened my nerves.

As I found a seat in the stands, my heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement, I became acutely aware of the curious gazes directed my way. Walking up to the bleachers seemed to draw everyone's attention, and the whispers began. The hushed conversations and exchanged glances created an invisible wall of speculation around me. A guy in the row below shouted, "Hey, who's the baby daddy?" The words hung in the air, leaving a momentary silence before a ripple of laughter spread through the crowd. Feeling a flush of embarrassment, I tried to maintain composure as I took my seat. Nate spotted me from a distance, his eyes widening in surprise and then breaking into an angry look. The sight of him in his element, surrounded by the camaraderie of the team, offered a brief respite from the challenges we faced. I focused on supporting Nate, hoping that the game would provide a temporary diversion from the prying eyes and judgment. Despite the challenging start to the evening, I clung to the hope that the unity of the team and the joy of the victory would overshadow the gossip. I notice Cal on the other side of the bleachers with his camera. As the game unfolded, the cheers and chants filled the air. With every play, I felt a strange mix of pride and uncertainty. The jersey I wore felt like a symbol of our connection, a link between two worlds that were slowly merging. As the final whistle blew, Nate's team emerged victorious. Then, Maddy ran up to Nate, jumping into his arms, and they passionately started making out amid the celebratory cheers. The sight hit me like a tidal wave, causing my stomach to sink and my eyes to well up with tears. I struggled to comprehend the sudden surge of emotions. Breaking away from their embrace, Maddy smirked and looked up at me. The weight of the moment pressed on me, and a lump formed in my throat. Unable to bear the scene any longer, I stood up, maneuvering through the packed bleachers filled with excitement. Once I managed to exit the stadium, tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.

What am I doing? What the hell am I doing? What am I expecting?

The internal turmoil intensifying. Nate's actions spoke volumes, revealing a harsh truth about the state of our relationship.

I take a moment to wipe my tears and eyes knowing my makeup was ruined. I try to collect myself but I can't. I gently brush my hands over my stomach. I make my way to my car. I grab my keys from my pocket, struggling. I get in and try to take a moment. As I stare through the windshield, the reality of reconsidering the pregnancy intensifies. The connection between my hands and my stomach feels like a bridge between the life growing within me and my emotions. Fumbling for my keys, I start the car. Pulling away from the stadium, I drive into the night...