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by redsox907 » 37 minutes ago
Chapter Fifty-One: Together
The easier of the two challenges had been accomplished. The day had been won, Oklahoma once again rested atop the pantheon of college football, and for a moment in Norman, everything was as it should be. There would be changes coming, both in the coaching staff and practice, but for now, winning cured all.
At least, winning cured all in Norman. Back home in Ashton Grove, it was a different story.
We'd celebrated in Atlanta, brought the kids back home, and started to get back into our routines. There's no rest for the wicked, especially in the life of a college football head coach, but before we could start moving towards what was next, the past had to be reconciled.
Two days after capturing my second consecutive National Championship, I faced the shadow of my father. There was no grand ceremony, no cheesecake to be shared over an intimate moment. It was just Jessica and I, sitting in my office, ready to face the future together.
That morning at breakfast, I'd decided it was time. As I served banana pancakes to the kids, I looked across the table and found Jessica's eyes, holding them with my own. As she watched me over the rim of her glass of orange juice, her movement halting mid-sip, I nodded.
"Tonight," I said with finality. Just like the word "Yes" back at the St. Regis, no explanation was needed. The word evolved from its simple meaning just by the situation it was presented in. Jessica nodded behind her glass, finished her sip, and offered a warm smile.
"Okay."
That night, we put the kids to bed without ceremony. As far as they knew, it was just another day, a brief lull in the chaotic life their father lived until everything ramped back up.
But for Jessica, and myself, it was a pivotal point. The night everything saw the light.
Sitting in my office, listening to the house shift around us, Jessica waited for me to begin without prodding or pressing, her eyes locked on mine, content to sit in the silence until I was ready.
I rubbed a semi-circle over the scar on my palm, the reminder of how far I'd come. But more than that, it was a reminder that at my lowest point, I was never alone. Jessica had been there. And I'd been foolish to think she wouldn't be again.
I took a deep breath, centering myself in the moment, and finally met Jessica's gaze.
"When Mom and I fled Las Cruces in 2005, I thought we'd left my father's influence behind in our dust. After I learned of his untimely death, I was sure that any effects of my father's double life would have died with him, or at the very least, remained buried in Las Cruces, a place I never intend to visit again."
"It turns out, not everything died with my father."
I had pulled the letters out of my travel bag earlier in the day, preparing them for this moment. Now, I gathered them from my desk, holding them out to Jessica. Evidence that the past never stayed buried.
Jessica's expression shifted from curiosity to confusion, reading over the letters one by one, pausing at certain parts to look at me with her eyebrows raised. I simply gestured for her to continue. "It will be easier to explain once you read them all," I finally said after Jessica hit me with an over-the-top eye roll the third time I'd gestured for her to continue.
Jessica read the final letter, inhaling sharply as she quickly read the letter once, then again. She finally folded the last letter after a third read, carefully creasing it as she added it back to the pile with the rest.
Jessica drew in a deep breath, then another, finally pulling her legs up under her.
"Three years, Armando? Three years, you've kept this from me?" Her voice was quiet at first, but gained authority on the second proclamation, her expression changing from quiet concern to righteous anger.
I didn't protest or defend myself. She had every right to be upset, I realized that now. I just nodded, my eyes steady on hers, waiting for the appropriate time to speak.
Jessica smoothed her hands down the front of her leggings and back up again, a slow deliberate motion, like she was grounding herself in the present.
"I'm not mad, Armando. I'm hurt you felt you couldn't share this with me from the beginning."
Another nod. The time to explain was approaching, but not yet.
We both sat there in silence for a minute, me waiting for the cue to tell my side, Jessica steeling herself against what was coming. She ran her hands through her hair, then tied a loose bun at the top, returning her hands to the calming back and forth motion against her leggings.
"Who was in Atlanta, Armando?"
"Leslie Fletcher."
Jessica recoiled as if I'd slapped her, the hurt painfully evident. It was a reaction I expected, and secretly hoped to never have to witness again.
"You snuck off to Atlanta and met another woman at a hotel, without telling me?" Her voice was shrill at the top of the question, bewilderment and shock blending together.
She opened her mouth, the muscles in her neck already straining as the sound started, but caught herself mid-breath. The smoothing of her pants continued before she found a more reserved tone.
"I'm trying my best to keep my composure, Armando, but you aren't making it easy."
"Leslie was my father's accountant, from Las Cruces."
Recognition spread across Jessica's face, slowly at first before she fully grasped what the name truly meant.
"I thought she disappeared right after your father did?"
"She did. Not by choice at first. But now she's back. And she wants what she feels is owed."
It was Jessica's turn to sit in silence, soaking in the story as I described how the letters arrived, how my fear turned into annoyance until Houston. How the curiosity about Raul slowly faded to a dull flame until the final letter, then the final revelation at St. Regis.
Over the hour it took to connect the dots, Jessica had slowly pulled her chair closer to mine, closing the gap between us both literally and symbolically, and eventually laid her head against my shoulder. I don't think it was a conscious decision by Jessica, more just a need to feel close to me after realizing how apart we had grown throughout the saga.
"Leslie gave you until January 15th," Jessica realized, her head rising a fraction off my shoulder to hold my eyes. "How did you get here to push the deadline?"
"I assured her I would have my entire playoff bonus deposited into the account. I was intending it to be a way to quickly pay off the $10 million she wanted, but I have a feeling it won't work that way."
Jessica continued holding my eyes, her eyebrows climbing as she waited for me to explain.
"She said the extension came with a price."
"Everything comes with a price, Armando," she sighed, lowering her head back to my shoulder.
"Do you really think after she gets her $10 million, she'll just disappear?"
"Well, yeah."
Instantly, Jessica shot back up, smacking me on the same exact spot her head had rested just moments before.
"You are as dense as you are talented, Armando. Think about it. You giving her $10 million dollars doesn't erase what she's holding over you. If anything, it deepens it. She doesn't just have your father at that point. She has the money, the secrets, the University being looped into it. Why would she just walk away with $10, when she can keep taking as long as she wants?"
It was a thought that at that point, had never crossed my mind. The second it left Jessica's lips however, it all made perfect sense. Leslie didn't care about two extra weeks, because to her, she'd found her cash cow. There would never be an end to the demands. Now, it's millions. Next, it'll be houses, property, guarantees. The only way it stopped was if Leslie was out of the picture.
Or her leverage was removed entirely.
"I think I know what we need to do next," I sighed, dragging my hand from the crown of my head down across my face, ending as I rubbed the stubble on my jaw.
"I know what you need to do," Jessica retorted, the playfulness that usually sat right under her words returning, even if only slightly.
"But this time," she said, drawing closer to my face until we were nose-to-nose, "We do it together."
