Always on My Mind (Stanmore FC Soulmates #2)

15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Knock, knock, knock.

Jamie ignored the sound and continued kissing Tessa. They were lying in a field under a Georgia summer sun, though how she knew that, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that their flush bodies pressed against each other in the warm grass was making her dizzy. Did anything matter other than Tessa’s sweet mouth?

Knock, knock, knock.

No, nothing else mattered. Tessa’s tongue danced along Jamie’s mouth, drawing a moan from deep in her chest. She tightened her arms around Tessa’s waist. Every muscle in Jamie’s body demanded to be closer. She reached for the stays on Tessa’s corset. She didn’t even question why Tessa was wearing such a thing.

Knock, knock, knock.

Jamie snapped her eyes open. A groan escaped her as she took in her bedroom, which was unfortunately sans Tessa. They had kissed for minutes that passed like hours in the rain against the wall only a day ago. Because Tessa was gone, it felt like years ago now.

Jamie pushed herself upright and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She could have sworn someone was—

Knock, knock, knock. “JAMIE!”

The sound was coming from her front door, and the voice was unmistakably her father’s. With a gasp, Jamie shot out of bed. She wrapped herself in a dressing gown, stepped into her slippers, and flew down the stairs. She hadn’t even bothered to check her appearance in the mirror.

Dexter was still knocking when Jamie yanked open the door. “Dad! Good morning!”

He met her bright greeting with a scowl. Instead of a reply, he held up a magazine. A photo of Jamie and Tessa holding hands outside the bar covered the front page. The blood drained from Jamie’s face.

“Care to explain yourself?” he demanded.

“I—”

“Get inside,” he barked, and pushed her back over the threshold as he stepped in and kicked the door shut behind him. With his fingers wrapped around her upper arm, he dragged her to the kitchen.

“What have I told you about this shit, Jamie?” he shouted. He slammed the paper down on the counter with a resounding thwack. Jamie flinched. “Are you seeing this girl?”

“No!” she cried. The lie tasted like ashes in her mouth, but she couldn’t tell him. Not this way. “Dad, I’m not seeing anyone! She’s a friend who works at the club.”

“You two seem to be a bit more than mates in this.”

Jamie chanced a glance at the photo, and the fondness between them was fairly obvious. Small smiles, heady gazes, clasped hands. It screamed romance. And now it sent Jamie’s heart rate skyrocketing for all the wrong reasons.

Her father’s lip curled with disgust as he glared at her. “You know how I feel about this, Jamie.”

“I know, and it’s not what you think, I swear.”

Sweat trailed down the back of her neck. Moisture formed along her hairline too. Her fingers tingled the way they did when an anxiety attack was coming on. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to focus. She couldn’t have a panic attack in front of him. He wouldn’t stand for it.

“I—er—well,” she stammered. “I was comforting her. Just as a friend.”

“And does she see you that way? Just as friends?”

“I’m sure she does.”

“Good, because this shit is not okay. I understand there are a lot of queers in women’s football, but you mustn’t let them convince you that it’s normal, Jamie. It’s unnatural, it’s a sin, and I won’t allow it with my child.”

She swallowed down the sting of his words and nodded. Her legs were going numb as well, but she was afraid sitting down would make her appear weak. Or worse, guilty.

He heaved a sigh. “You had a good goal against Liverpool, but that cross in the twenty-third minute was shit. Work on that with your striker.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied dutifully.

“I’m gonna meet with your agent and work on getting this fucking photo taken down anywhere I’m able. Be more careful going forward. This speculation about your sexuality is distracting from your football.”

“I understand.”

Jamie hated how meek she sounded. She hated herself for diminishing Tessa yet again. So much for the progress she had promised. She told herself that next time she would set a boundary, she would tell her father as much of the truth as she could. But the moment came, and she retreated into herself, meek as a mouse.

“Get on the pitch today, if you can. I’ll see you later.”

With that, he was gone. Jamie collapsed into her kitchen chair. Cradling her head in her hands, she tried to draw in air, only to find her lungs couldn’t fit it. Stuttering gasps overtook her and tears filled her eyes. She failed. She bent to her father’s anger the same as she always did.

With trembling hands, she grasped for her phone in her dressing gown pocket. She managed to dial Lila despite her shaking fingers. Lila picked up after two rings.

“Good morning, Jamie,” she said. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t—I can’t—” Jamie sputtered. “I can’t breathe.”

“Yes, you can, Jamie, I promise.”

“No, I can’t, it’s like—my lungs aren’t working. And I can’t feel my legs and my fingers feel like they’re asleep and I can’t stop shaking. Lila, Jesus Christ—”

“Jamie. You’re having a panic attack. I want you to breathe in and out with me, alright? Can you do it if I show you how?”

“Yeah. Alright.”

Lila inhaled through her nose, and Jamie followed suit, but found it shallow and lacking. Lila exhaled through her mouth. Jamie’s release came with a shudder.

“In and out. Breathe with me.” Lila’s voice was smooth and calming.

Jamie did as she instructed, and found that with each breath, it got easier. Finally, when Jamie was able to inhale and exhale without restraint, Lila told her she could breathe normally again.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“No,” Jamie said. “A picture of me with another woman got printed and my father stormed into my house furious about it.”

“Who is the woman?”

Jamie bit her lip. “My ex-girlfriend.”

“I see. Did you tell your father the truth?”

Jamie’s chin wobbled, and she swallowed a lump in her throat. “No.”

“Why don’t I come over and we can discuss it, hm?”

“Okay. Do therapists normally make house calls?”

“Sure. Besides, since your father caused this, I’ll charge him double for the session.”

A chuckle escaped Jamie’s chest. “I’ll see you soon.”

Lila arrived within half an hour. Before she began therapy, she put the kettle on and made them each a cup of tea.

“It’s much too early to have this kind of talk without a cuppa,” she said. “And that your father would accost you at this hour before you’ve even had a chance to caffeinate is totally barbaric.”

Jamie watched the steam rise out of her cup for a long moment before she took a sip. It warmed and soothed her chest, sinking into her stomach and relaxing her muscles. She sank into her couch.

“Start from the beginning,” Lila said gently. “What happened with the photo?”

Jamie relayed the night of the match, but was honest with Lila about the kissing in the rain and what she had said to Tessa.

“And then my father came bursting in here and I didn’t do anything,” she said. “I’ve let her down. I let myself down too. I thought I’d be able to stand up to him.”

“Jamie, you’re a remarkable person, but did you honestly think that after only two months of therapy, you’d be able to make that drastic of a change?” Lila replied. “Your father is the greatest source of trauma in your life. It’s going to take you longer to get to a place where you can face him the way you want to.”

Jamie blinked. “That’s. . . honest.”

“It’s part of my job to be honest with you. And in pursuit of that, I have to say, I’m curious as well about what your ex- girlfriend asked you. What do you think your father will do if you set a boundary or even come out to him?”

“I. . . ” Jamie drummed her fingers on the side of her teacup. “I don’t know if I can talk about it.”

“Has he ever struck you?”

“No.”

“Threatened you?”

“Not really.”

“Anything other than using his words?”

“No. But his words are what did it.”

Lila paused, her eyes fixed on Jamie, who couldn’t make herself look back.

“What did his words do, Jamie?”

“I can’t talk about it because it didn’t happen to me.”

“Jamie,” Lila said, with a sternness Jamie hadn’t heard before. “Clearly, whatever it was has affected you enough to fear him beyond even your own desires. If you name it, we can work through it together.”

Jamie glanced down at her tea again. “I’ve never spoken to anyone about this.”

“There’s no time like therapy to share something of that nature.”

“Hardly anyone knows this, but,” Jamie paused to clear her throat. “I have. . . had an older brother.”

Lila raised an eyebrow. “Had?”

“He died. A long time ago.”

“How did he die?”

“He killed himself.”

Lila blinked. “I’m so sorry, Jamie. That must have been difficult.”

“It wasn’t, really. I wasn’t close to him. He was ten years older than me. And I was only five when he died. Nowadays, I can barely remember what he looked like.”

“That’s normal. Most adults have difficulty recalling anything earlier than six or seven,” Lila said. “Can you tell me what you do remember of him?”

“I remember that he was nice to me,” Jamie said. “All my friends with big brothers talked about how they pulled their hair and teased them, but not my brother. He doted on me. And I idolized him. He played football too. And Dad put a lot of pressure on him. I remember once, I came into his room and he was crying. He had his football in his lap, and he was crying over it. Of course, being a kid, I ran in and hugged him.”

“That sounds rather sweet. Do you remember what you said to each other?”

“No, not really,” Jamie shook her head. “But I remember feeling so. . . safe.”

She paused for a long moment, toying with the tag of her tea bag as she tried to remember more. But it was all hazy.

“I feel guilty sometimes that I don’t get emotional or anything when I think of him,” she said.

“It is hard to grieve for a person you hardly got the chance to know,” Lila replied. “And I cannot imagine his death being your fault.”

“No, it was. . . the pressure, I suppose,” Jamie continued. “My brother was good at football. Really good. Probably better than my dad was at that age. He was fifteen and there was already talk about his professional career. Maybe even playing for England. I remember my parents talking about it while my brother and I listened outside their door. But it seemed like the better he got, the more Dad pushed him.”

“Hence you found him crying in his bedroom.”

“Exactly. And I remember one fight in particular, after my dad found a note from a boy in Theo’s class in his school bag. He went absolutely mad, raving at Theo. He shouted so loud, I remember thinking the house was shaking. That was the night.”

Lila nodded. “What do you remember of that night?”

“I remember my mother screaming,” Jamie said. That memory was distinct. She had never heard that kind of a wail before and hadn’t heard one since. Filled with unimaginable agony. Complete and total despair. “I remember the lights when the ambulance came, and them carrying him out on a stretcher, a sheet over his body. Mum and Dad had a neighbor come over and stay with me while they went to hospital. I snuck into Theo’s room and took the note.”

“Were you able to read it?” Lila asked.

“Not until years later,” Jamie told her. “And it may not shock you to learn that it was a love letter between Theo and the boy at school.”

“It doesn’t shock me, but it does make me sad. For Theo, and for you.”

“And the worst part is, it’s all I have left of him.”

“You still have it?”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah. Dad got rid of every trace of my brother in the house. All the photos were put into an album. Theo’s trophies went into a box. It all went in the attic. All his clothes were donated. His room became my dad’s home office. It was like I never had a brother after that.”

“What did your mother have to say about all this?”

“Nothing. She’s been bedridden on mood stabilizers ever since it happened. She hardly speaks. She never leaves the house. She’s. . . a shell. We’ve never spoken about him since the day they told me he wasn’t coming home.”

Lila shook her head and put her tea on the end table beside her. “I have been a therapist for many years, Jamie, and that might be the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Jamie wrinkled her nose. “Surely not the saddest.”

“It’s up there,” Lila said. “You said before that it didn’t happen to you, but Jamie, it absolutely did. Watching your brother succumb to your father’s pressure and bigotry happened to you . Watching your mother grieve so deeply she never escaped it, happened to you . It left you alone with the man who drove your brother to take that drastic action. All when you were much too young to truly understand the depth of it.”

“Everyone has stuff in their family that—”

“No, don’t you dare try to minimize this,” Lila cut across her. “You were robbed of a proper childhood. You were robbed of a brother who loved you. And you were robbed of an ally that you might have had in your mother. That’s trauma, Jamie. You are perfectly justified in your fear of your father.”

Tears flooded back into Jamie’s eyes. At last, it all made sense. She had never put it together before, and no one had ever validated her fear. But she had never told anyone the real story. Now that she had, and Lila confirmed the connection, Jamie felt as if she’d heaved massive bricks off her shoulders.

“I don’t want to be afraid of him anymore,” she said.

“You won’t be,” Lila assured her. “But you have to understand something to face it. And you have to face something to grow from it. Let’s do that together, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jamie said with a nod and a smile.

Lila took Jamie’s hands in hers. “I want you to repeat after me.”

“Alright.”

“My fears are valid,” Lila said.

“My fears are valid,” Jamie repeated.

“My past is part of who I am.”

“My past is part of who I am.”

“But it does not define me.”

“But it does not define me.”

“Well done, Jamie,” Lila said, patting her hand. “Now we can begin the real work.”