(RIVALS) The Upside of Falling ✔️

Chapter 46: Chance

Brett

"Brett?" My mother called out from the kitchen before I had even walked through the door. I sighed, then I cursed. I seriously was not in the mood to speak to anyone right now.

For the entire car ride home, all I could think about was Grayson and smashing his face in.

I hung up my car keys on the hook, taking off my jacket and throwing it over my shoulder, not bothering to check where it landed.

Taking a deep breath, I walked down the hallway, passing by the dozen of family photos decorating the wall - each one showcasing my father's face smiling straight at me. I clenched my fist and resisted the urge to tear it down from the wall and throw it onto the floor.

Ignoring the photos, I walked into the kitchen where my mother was standing. Every time I saw her, she managed to look smaller - like she was shrinking into herself and soon there would be no parts of her left. She turned around and smiled warmly, leaning her hip against the counter and nursing a mug of something in her hand.

My mother's smile reached her eyes and even the yawn she tried to hide behind her hand couldn't erase the happiness from her face. But she also looked tired - exhausted, even. I wondered how long it had been since she last slept.

Hell, how long had it been since I last slept? I couldn't even tell you.

"Hey, Ma." I walked up to my mother, kissing her on the cheek quickly before taking a seat on the other side of the counter.

"How was the gym?"

"Fine," I told her, shrugging. I glanced at my mother and she wouldn't stop smiling at me. Even as she pushed a plate of food my way and watched me eat, the smile never left her face.

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to spill whatever was on her mind.

When she couldn't contain herself anymore she said, "a girl came by today."

A girl.

Becca.

My heart sped up just at the mere thought of her.

Missing her didn't even begin to cover how I felt. I felt like I couldn't breath without her - like each day that passed by was wasted simply because I didn't spend it trying to make her smile. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to tell her that I still loved her. I wanted to do a million things to her, with her. But I pushed the thoughts back - thoughts I should not be thinking about right now when my mother was standing in front of me, watching me curiously.

You know that feeling you get sometimes that people can read your mind? I hoped to God she couldn't read mine right now.

I placed the fork on the plate and crossed my arms over my chest, trying to look uninterested and ignore the fact that my heart felt like a jackhammer.

"Who was it?" I asked, already knowing the answer but needing to know for sure.

My mother shrugged, lifting her mug up to her mouth with a knowing smile on her lips. "She didn't tell me her name."

"Shame," I grumbled, staring daggers into my plate.

"She had blonde hair, really pretty eyes." My mother chirped in, trying to get some - any - type of reaction out of me. I kept my eyes trained on the food and ignored the pounding in my chest.

"She's the girl, isn't she?" My mother asked, her voice cautious. I looked up immediately, my eyes narrowing as I watched her.

"There's no girl, Ma." I lied. I lied so fucking hard.

I don't want to talk about this.

My mother knew I was lying. Mothers always seemed to know that crap. She laughed, gently placing her mug down on the counter and planting her elbows beside it, leaning forward until her face was resting in her open palms.

"Did she break my baby's heart?"

Yes.

I rolled my eyes and continued to eat, ignoring my mother's eager stare.

"Why can't you talk to me, Brett? I just want to know what's going on in your life."

I glanced up at my mom and the sadness in her face made me bite back the rude comment I wanted to say. After all the shit she had been through, was it really so bad that she wanted to try to talk to me?

Oh, what the hell.

"Yes, Ma. She's the girl. The only girl." I sighed, raising my hands and slapping them down on the counter. "Happy?" The look on my mom's face answered the question for me. I couldn't remember the last time I saw her act like this - like she was truly happy.

"Do you love her?" She asked, taking a sip from her mug and watching me carefully.

"Yes," I replied without hesitation.

"Then what's the problem?"

"That's the problem, Mom. I love her." I told her simply. She arched her eyebrow, confused. Hell, I was starting to confuse myself.

"Love is never a problem, Brett."

Did she seriously just say that? The woman who spent her entire life loving a man who just wanted to destroy her? I clenched my fist and chose to ignore it.

"It is when the girl doesn't love you back," I muttered, raking my hand through my hair, frustrated.

My mother arched her eyebrow and reached across the counter, covering my hand with her own. "How could someone not love you?"

"Why don't you ask dad?" I snapped, pulling my hand out of hers and pushing the stool out quickly.

I turned my back to my mom and placed my hands on my head, closing my eyes to let the anger pass.

"Brett." My mother's voice was firm, strong, when she said my name. I took a deep breath and turned around.

"I'm sorry, Mom." The hurt on her face broke me. She already dealt with enough shit from my father, the least I could do was be kind to her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

I shook my head. I was sick of talking. "I'm going to shower, Ma." I walked around the counter and kissed her cheek, pulling her tightly against me. "I love you. Goodnight."

I pulled away but she held me at arm's length, her hands planted firmly on my shoulders - she was standing on her tiptoes just to reach me.

"I love you too, Brett. And the girl who came here today? She does too."

I rolled my eyes, seems like everyone knows Becca is in love with me except for Becca.

"How do you know?" I asked her, smiling because I couldn't help myself.

She patted my cheek with her hand. "Mothers always know."

I decided that was good enough for me and went to shower with a smile plastered to my face. I'd be lying if I said I didn't imagine Becca in there with me.

Before going to bed, I pulled out my phone and dialled Becca's number. It went straight to voicemail. She was sleeping.

After the beep, I left a message. "Hey, Becs, it's me. I'm sorry for being an asshole, I just... Can you come to my game tomorrow night? Give me a chance to make things right between us?" I paused, taking a deep breath. "I love you," I added, and then I hung up.

I shut off my phone and went to bed, hoping that when I looked into the bleachers tomorrow night, I would see her there smiling at me.

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