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  That made her smile with what was probably the warmest facial expression I'd seen from her. "All the great ones say that."

  "I don't know how great I am anymore." I shrugged, gesturing toward the back of the pub where Lewis usually saved a more private table when he knew I was coming.

  "I don't know if Lia told you what I do," Isabel said as we skirted a long table.

  "You're a personal trainer of sorts, right? At a boxing gym?"

  She nodded. "We get a lot of athletes who come to our place, some because of my connection to the Wolves, and some because of my boss, Amy, and the number one thing I've learned from watching them is that their greatness never really fades. I trained someone in his sixties last summer who used to be a baseball player. Hurt his shoulder and had to retire before he wanted to, but that man, even though he's more than twice my age, had a fire in him that blew me away." Isabel shrugged, glancing over her shoulder at me. "I think what makes the great great is something inside them. Even when their body betrays them, it's still there."

  A burst of laughter behind us made it so I couldn't answer her, but as we approached the back, I couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said, trying to decipher if it even felt true for me.

  Ahead of us, I saw Lewis come around from behind the bar and greet Lia with a hug and friendly smile. No surprise that she'd won him over when they'd watched a match together. But I also saw the shock on his face when she embraced him, the way he tried not to look down at her stomach, visible behind the form-fitting Shepperton hoodie she was wearing.

  "Bloody hell, fucking shit," I whispered under my breath.

  Isabel's gaze snapped to me. "What?"

  "I, uh, my brother doesn't know Lia's pregnant yet, and I think he just puzzled it out."

  "Ahh." She lifted her chin. "Oh wow, so we get to meet the whole family?"

  My stomach dropped out when my parents stood from the table in the back, regarding us warily as we approached.

  I glared at Lewis, who held up his hands. "Jude, Mum told me what happened when you stopped by. It's past time you three have a decent conversation."

  "And you thought tonight was the best time for it?" I hissed. I waved my hand at Lia and Isabel, who were standing by the bar, waiting to approach my parents until I was with them. "I'm not in the mood, Lewis."

  He raised his eyebrows slowly. "Are you ever? I thought with her here, maybe you'd actually manage to be polite, and if they were expecting to see you, they could attempt the same." He shook his head. "You're all so bloody stubborn it makes me sick."

  Slicking my tongue over my teeth, I tried to breathe through what their unexpected presence did to my mood.

  Lia gave me a sympathetic smile when I slid my hand up her back.

  "Sorry about this," I told her.

  "Don't apologize to me. I wouldn't mind getting to know your family better, but …" Her voice trailed off as she gave my parents a quick glance under her lashes. "I don't know if this is the best way to do it."

  Isabel looked between us. "What am I missing?"

  "You're about to find out," I exhaled. "Come on, might as well get it over with."

  Lewis muttered something to my parents, and my dad gave him a tight nod.

  My father looked older, just as my mum had, and he gave me the same nod he'd just given my brother. "Jude. Nice to see you."

  My mum was staring wide-eyed at Lia's stomach. There was no part of her even attempting to hide it.

  "Dad, Mum." I motioned to Isabel with my free hand, the other was occupied by holding Lia's like she was a bloody life preserver. "Isabel is here from the States. She's Lia's sister. Mum, you remember Lia."

  She nodded, giving Lia a small smile. "Hello again. It's ... it's nice to see you."

  Lia smiled back, her hand reaching up to rub her stomach. I'd seen her do it so many times but never had I been so aware of it. For her, it was probably a comfort, to be able to reach down and feel that warm curve of flesh as I'd done all the times we'd been in bed together.

  My dad's forehead wrinkled when he watched her. "I was working when you two stopped by the other day. Lewis thought we should make a trip down and try to ... talk."

  Isabel and Lia pulled out heavy wooden chairs, and I did the same once Lia was seated to my right. Upon sitting, she slid her hand over my thigh and squeezed. Isabel looked at Lewis. "A pint would be great."

  "Of course. Would you care to see our tap list?"

  "Nope. Just ... any kind will be perfect."

  I looked away, a feeling of shame coating every part of my skin. On the drive here, they'd been all warmth and ease.

  And then there was my family. Dysfunction and discomfort.

  My dad whispered something to my mum before he met my gaze. "How was your match tonight? Did you win?"

  Lia blew out a slow breath as Isabel hastily grabbed the beer Lewis brought back for her. I inhaled slowly, then exhaled even more slowly. It didn't help.

  "No. We got our arse kicked."

  Mum frowned, and Dad looked away. Lia's hand squeezed on my leg again, and I looked over at her.

  “Try,” she mouthed. “Please.”

  For the first time since I met Lia, I was furious at her. She was asking me for something without any bloody idea of how much it might cost me. But that was the point, wasn't it? She had no idea because I'd never told her.

  It deflated most of the fiery righteousness that fueled my anger. But the frustration, the underlying sense of uselessness didn't dissipate. Maybe because it wasn't fire. It wasn't hot, something that could be stoked and tended.

  What I'd been feeling all day was more like a fog. Murky. Dark. Everywhere.

  Nothing you could touch, but it absolutely swamped the senses.

  Fire could be extinguished, but fog ... it had the ability to destroy everything in its path if you didn't watch carefully enough.

  I swallowed, laid my hand over hers, and looked up at my parents.

  "This may surprise you," I said lightly, "but football is actually the last thing I'd like to talk about right now."

  My parents exchanged a loaded glance. "All right," my dad said. His hands, big and rough and hardened from the farm, curled around his glass of water. "That's fine. What would you like to talk about, Jude? We're …" His voice stumbled slightly. "We're here to listen."

  Lewis finished setting waters in front of Lia, Isabel, and myself and sat in the last free chair at the table, eyeing us carefully.

  "Maybe Lewis should tell us why he scheduled this family event," I said.

  My brother gave Lia and Isabel a sheepish grin. "Can I blame being drunk at the time?"

  I rolled my eyes. "If you drank more than a beer a week, I'd believe that."

  "Maybe it was a really strong beer."

  "Lewis." Mum sighed. "It's not the time for jokes. Your father and I drove a long way to come down here, took time away from the farm. You said it was important."

  "It is." He spread his hands wide. "This is our family, and we're doing a shit job of acting like it. You hate that he plays football, we get it. But he's been playing for over a decade. Bloody hell, move on already."

  My brow furrowed at his vehement defense. I'd never heard Lewis—the happy one, the man in the middle of our little mess—speak up for me like that.

  He turned to me. "And you, quit walking around like you've got a war to fight every time you see them. They don't understand the game, they don't understand how good you are, and you don't bloody need them to in order to do your job. Let it go."

  I clenched my jaw tight and stared down at the table.

  "We understand how good he is," my mum said in the loaded silence that followed. The pub wasn't silent, but our table was like a graveyard for how deathly quiet it was. "But you're right, Lewis, we don't understand his life. We don't understand how you can sacrifice all the things that really matter for a game that won't be there for him. Once he's done, once the crowds stop cheering his name, what will he have left? He's pushed away a
nyone who loves him for the empty praise of strangers."

  My eyes lifted slowly to hers, and I felt that fog cloud over my vision for one moment.

  From the corner of my vision, I saw Lia and Isabel trade a look. Isabel's beer was gone already. But I never pulled my eyes away from my mum.

  "Is that what you think of me?" I asked quietly.

  "It's what we know, son," Dad answered. "You changed. And not for the better. You may be a god to them, but to us, you're just the son we don’t even recognize anymore."

  "Dad," Lewis said sharply.

  Lia leaned forward while I struggled to catch my breath. "How dare you speak to him like that," she said in a frigid tone. Icicles hung from her words. "Shame on you."

  My parents stared at her in stunned shock. Hell, so did I.

  "I know you're in a relationship with him," my dad said stiffly, "but you've no part in this, Miss."

  "She's having my child," I said.

  A bomb could've gone off on the table with less dramatic impact than what I'd just said. My mum's eyes fell shut, and my dad's widened. Lewis rubbed his forehead.

  "She's a bloody part of this because she's having your first grandchild. Congratulations to both of you," I said smoothly. "And I'll tell you why what you've just said can't touch me, Dad. Because that child will have every-fucking-thing that you never gave me. I will give support. I will give encouragement. I will give anything they need or want because I've learned from you what not to do."

  I curled my arm around Lia, whose shoulders were stiff as a plank.

  "If my child wants to play football, I'll be at every bloody game. If they want to be a painter, I'll buy every single print. If they want to dance or sing or ... be a farmer, I'll be there every step of the way. Because that's what a good parent does. And you taught me how to be a brilliant one." I shrugged, feeling the fog roll insidiously off my body with each word I hurled at them. "All I have to do is not be like you, and I'll be the best fucking father in the world."

  My mum wiped a tear from her face as she stood from the table. "I won't sit and listen to this."

  My dad followed, as he always did, giving me a stunned look of defeat.

  Lewis sat with his head in his hands. Isabel had a hand covering her mouth, eyes closed. And Lia, she was frozen next to me.

  "I'm sorry you had to endure them like that," I told her, rubbing a hand on her back.

  I'd hardly had time to blink, and she stood so fast that her chair fell backward.

  "Lia?"

  "I have to go." She looked at her sister, and whatever was on her face, Isabel nodded. Lia slipped her coat back on and I noticed her hands shaking.

  "Wait," I stood. "Is it about them?"

  She wouldn't look at me as she hooked her bag over her shoulder. Lewis still hadn't moved.

  "Lia," I said more firmly. "Talk to me." When she did look at me, the look in her eyes was haunted. I wasn't even sure what word to use to describe it. But it made me take a step back, shaking my head. "Wait, talk to me. What's going on?"

  She turned to leave, and when I moved to follow, Isabel held her hand out, just shy of my chest. I held my hands up.

  "You're going to let her walk away right now." Her eyes, the same blue as Lia's, were fierce and bright.

  I breathed out through my nose, hard. "I just want to know what's wrong. I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong."

  "Men," she murmured, pinching the bridge of her nose, before glancing back up at me. "I don't judge anyone for having family issues. But I promise you right now, you don't want to push me on this because you will lose."

  "What the bloody hell are you talking about?" I hissed. "It's not about pushing or losing. I just want to talk to her. I don't want her to be upset."

  Isabel held my gaze. "I don't give a flying fuck about what you want, Jude. You will give my sister a minute to breathe, okay?"

  My jaw was so tight, I could feel it all the way down my neck. But I nodded.

  "We're staying at the Leonard Hotel by Hyde Park. She'll talk to you tomorrow."

  It took everything in me not to shout her name again, but I let them walk out of the pub.

  Why did my insides feel all twisted and knotted tight? Something was wrong, something yanked in a direction it shouldn't have been when she turned her back on me. Something that recognized, even before I did, that she and I were supposed to be facing the same direction. But there I was—standing still while she walked away.

  If I thought I'd felt useless before, it was nothing to how I felt at that moment. I sank into the empty chair at the table and realized there were worse things than being benched or losing games. There were worse things than having terrible parents.

  It was fucking up with the first woman to find herself in my miserable excuse for a heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Lia

  Isabel ushered me out of the pub and immediately snagged a passing black cab. She didn't say a word after we settled on the bench, and for that, I was thankful. All I wanted to do was get back to the hotel and crawl underneath the blankets. Once I did that, once I was safe there, I could nudge open the release valve on all the tension that was building, building, building.

  Through the panoramic moon roof of the cab, I stared numbly at the beautiful lights of London as we slowly made our way toward Hyde Park. My fingers were the first part of my body to shake, and Isabel wove hers through mine and held fast as though she could give me her strength through osmosis.

  How had I made it this long without being by anyone in my family?

  The voice that used to whisper questions I didn't know how to answer was right the F there. You blocked out everything unpleasant, everything hard. You ignored the things that hurt to think about. And you were able to do that because Jude doesn't know you well enough to push you.

  And you don’t know him either, was the next horrible thought. I didn’t know him at all.

  My legs started bouncing next, and I blew out a slow breath as we curled around the darkened streets. It felt like a womb inside that car, and with my free hand, I rubbed over my stomach. Hopefully, I wasn't transferring my stress or my anger to little peach.

  And oh, I was angry.

  At myself. And at Jude. Definitely at his asshole parents.

  The anger was what was in the slowly growing vibration of my body. It reminded me of when Logan first married Paige. I'd sit on the kitchen island while she made homemade pasta. It was a mess. Noodles hanging everywhere as they dried. But my favorite part, aside from the eating, was watching the water start to boil.

  No matter what the temperature of the water was when she set it over the flames, it always started the same way. Tiny little dots, hardly visible, as they moved in dancing lines up to the surface. The dots grew, but only if you were watching very carefully. And that was my job, watch for the big bubbles that finally made the water churn angrily.

  Right now, I was the pot of boiling water, and the moment someone lifted the lid, I was probably going to friggin’ explode in a mess of tears and hormones and tight-lidded tension.

  Isabel tightened her hold on my hand. As different as the four of us girls were, one thing we had in common was that we were very calm and collected. Until we weren't so calm and collected. Then we needed to get the F away from everyone because all the feelings were about to explode in a messy burst. Until Logan, we'd learned to keep those feelings locked down tight because our mom just ... couldn't be bothered.

  "Almost there," she murmured.

  I nodded but felt the tingling at the bridge of my nose, the burning press at the back of my eyes.

  I tried to focus on the lights, the architecture, the arches on doorways and beautiful columns in rows, anything to keep Jude's voice out of my head as he spoke to his parents.

  My eyes pinched shut.

  "We're here, Lee," Isabel whispered. I got out of the cab while she handed over a crumpled wad of pounds through the window. "Keep the change."

  He wh
istled. "Cheers."

  With her arm wrapped around my shoulders, we ascended the steps into the hotel and made our way through the quiet lobby to the small elevator. Everything—hands, arms, chin—was shaking by the time Isabel got the door open. The first tear was hot on my cheeks. The second came down more easily. My teeth were chattering by the time she had us inside.

  "Holy shit," I gasped, tears slipping immediately down my face. "Oh, holy shit, did you hear them? How they spoke to each other? I didn't know about any of this, Isabel."

  “I heard,” she said slowly. “That was … that was brutal, Lia.” She pulled off her coat and laid it over the chair by the desk as she shook her head. "I thought we had some awkward family dynamics."

  I laughed, but the sound that came out was pathetic and watery. I pressed both hands to my chest and tried to breathe down my rising panic.

  "I c-can't do this," I stammered. "I am not ready to do this."

  Isabel stood in front of me, sliding her hands up and down my upper arms. "Look at me, let's take a couple of deep breaths, okay? In through the nose."

  I did as she asked, but my inhales were shaky and my exhales quick.

  "Do you think selfishness i-is genetic?" I asked on a choked sob. "Like, is little peach totally, royally fucked because I come from Brooke, and J-Jude and his parents—" my voice broke.

  "No," she interrupted. "No, you don't even go there in your mind, okay?"

  "How are you so sure, though? It's not like people try to screw up their kids. He and I haven't talked about anything important. W-We just ... ignored it all, and I don't know how you're so sure we'll be able to do this."

  Isabel's eyes got suspiciously bright, but she blinked a few times, and it disappeared. "The reason I'm so sure is because selfish people don't wonder if they're selfish. They do what they please and don't think about the consequences of their actions. Brooke left us because she thought she'd be happier. She thought life would be easier without us. And fuck that ho, she was probably right. We were little savages sometimes, but I guarantee you she never worried about what damage she left behind, because she was—is—selfish to her core." Isabel pressed her forehead to mine, wrapping me in a tight hug. "You are not like her because right now, after something hard, you're worried about what this means. You will be an amazing mother, okay?"