Chapters (48)
- Cover
- PRAISE FOR ALEXA MARTIN’S PLAYBOOK SERIES
- Titles by Alexa Martin
- Dedication
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Epilogue
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“I’d love one, thank you.” I look back at Monica and when I do, her eyes are glossed over and it looks like she might be on the verge of crying.
“Coming right up.” She clasps her hands together and looks at Angela. “Come on, Angela, help me get this food together.”
Angela follows her through the living room and as soon as they are out of our sight, I cut right to the chase. “Your mom is wonderful, but what in the world is going on here? Why is Angela here? Why are you asking her about your dad?”
“Angela runs a program that provides in-home care to dementia patients.” He doesn’t hesitate before answering. “She has gone above and beyond to make my family feel safe with their care for my dad, and she’s become a close friend to my mom, hence her spending Thanksgiving here.”
All of my breath leaves my body in one fell swoop.
“Dementia?” I ask as all of the pieces that I’ve been trying to place since the day he first covered his logo fall into place.
“After we got the diagnosis, he made us promise not to tell anyone, and I haven’t, until you. It started off with little things. Falling down a lot, forgetting why he went to the store, not remembering phone numbers.” He’s looking at me, but he’s not. It’s almost like he’s being pulled back in time. “Then he started getting mean. My parents didn’t have me until after he retired. My dad wanted to be all in, not traveling or moving us around with trades. They wanted to be settled. He was at every single one of my football games, every school program. He was the best. But as he got older, his temper started getting shorter. My mom and I brushed it off in the beginning, but then news stories started coming out about other players committing suicide and getting diagnosed with all sorts of things.”
I step in closer, grabbing onto his hands, trying to give him any kind of comfort that I can. My dad died. Yeah. And it fucking sucked. But my dad was the same person until the day he died. I can’t even begin to imagine the horrors that come with watching the person you love disappear right in front of your eyes. And to suffer through all of this in silence? Hiding your pain from the entire world? It breaks my heart.