Marrying the quarterback

Chapter Eleven

Maxwell was given the go-ahead to rejoin his teammates for practice after weeks of going to his physical therapy appointments. His shoulder wasn’t healed completely but he was allowed to train again and it made him hopeful that what he has been in a while.

It was crazy outside the football stadium when we pulled up. There was a horde of eager reporters calling out Maxwell’s name, snapping pictures of him and asking very personal questions which Maxwell just smiled and waved at. He was easy to lure in when girls were feasting their eyes on him, asking for his autograph and handing their contact details over to him which he took with a promising smile.

No girl or fake marriage was going to stop him from his ways. He is his own downfall and devastation.

I know what everyone expected from me as his wife, they wanted me to shout at him, throw a tantrum and give them the snake eye. I wish it was in me to throw a tantrum but I am not the kind to lose my head over something I have no control over. It was Maxwell Johnson, after all, he made it clear his bad ways can’t be tamed.

He was acting like the obnoxious bad boy everyone is familiar with.

The guy I got to know over the last week wasn’t the same man standing in front of me talking to the crowd with his broad shoulders high, winking at the girls and using a lot of crude fancy words that didn’t make any sense.

“How does your wife feeling knowing you are standing here flirting with girls?” A reporter asked, snatching the attention of the rest of the reporters and making everyone look at me.

I waited for Maxwell to say something worthy but his stupid remark about him not doing anything wrong gave me no hope.

He met my gaze and I think it was clear what I thought of him. I might not hate him but I was slowly starting to proceed in that direction.

Maxwell went to the locker rooms to change into his uniform for practice while I headed out to the field. Many of my dreams and choices started on a field close to this one.

“Burgess,” I heard Maxwell’s voice from behind me before he stepped in front of me.

I lifted my eyes and found his guilty eyes resting on me.

“About that,” He was referring to what happened outside.

“You acting like a jerk?” I asked, wondering what happened to this man that made him like this. “Does the spotlight really mean this much to you that you become a completely different person?”

“You don’t understand,” He tried to justify his bad manner.

“What? That you have to be a jerk so the world can love you? The media built you a reputation and you embraced it, why? Afraid nobody will love the real you?” I was getting too close to this and him. I was starting to show concern for a man who doesn’t deserve it.

“People don’t like a shy guy with a steady relationship,”

I chuckled and it wasn’t filled with amusement. “Admit it, Johnson. You love the attention so much that you will do about everything to appear in the news and media every day,”

I stepped away from him when his team started to arrive.

“How’s our guy doing? Hoping he isn’t giving you too much of a hard time,” Daniel said catching me before I made my way up to the bleachers to wait for and watch Maxwell’s team practice.

“It was good until I witnessed this jackass all over again,” I watched Maxwell call for his receiver to catch the ball. He got the distance and his teammates cheered him on feeding some hope and confidence back into his soul.

His injury hasn’t healed completely but at least he was given the okay to be back here before he rips the walls apart of his expensive home.

“It’s the life of fame that got to him. He is a good guy when there are no camera’s around,” Daniel explained.

“I saw that first hand,” I acknowledged.

“Fans want a person to be somebody and Maxwell fell for the fame instead of being himself,” Daniel informed, trying to build a strong case and convince me to not give up on Maxwell.

“Sounds to me that he fears people won’t accept the real him,” The approval of the media means so much to him that he started living this fake life to indulge his fans.

Why did he stop playing for the love of the game? Why is he so convinced to have the approval of everyone?

Daniel nodded his head. “At least someone noticed it too,”

“I’m a cop, it’s my job to be observant at all times,” I remarked, noticing Maxwell looking at me when he jogged by the bleachers.

“I should head back to my team, it was good to see you again, detective,” Daniel made his way down the bleachers and crossed the field making his way over to his team.

“I’ve never got to do this with you,” Their head coach/my father said looking at me.

“Whose fault is that?” I retorted.

“I have a feeling that an apology ain’t going to cut it,” My father noted.

“Are you planning on apologizing for twenty years of my life and Chris for deserting us for this?” I asked, knowing already that Chris won’t forgive him. The day our mother died—Chris told me that so did our father since he didn’t attend our mother’s funeral.

“AJ,”

I shook my head when he said my name begging. “You didn’t call, visit or showed up when we needed you. I had to take charge when mom passed away because you were a pathetic excuse of a father to take care of us,”

“Your mom didn’t want me near you and Chris,”

“Sure, now you can make excuses because mom isn’t here to defend herself,” I scoffed.

“AJ, I didn’t come around because she didn’t want me near you two,” I didn’t believe him. My mother would have never let this happen.

“You still could have come around or tried to push back to see us but you didn’t. It took you twenty years to come over to talk to me. It took one of your players to go down and have me placed undercover as his wife for you to finally realize what you’ve done was wrong,” I went through training to never show a single emotion on duty—not even you are having a bad day.

So, I didn’t shed a single tear.

“I know this won’t probably change anything but I am going to say it like it is,” My father began, looking at his team.

“You could have easily taken Maxwell’s spot if you just continued to play the game,” He noted. “And you know that’s the truth and that’s why you struggle to see talent in him,”

I rolled my eyes at my father’s statement. “He's got talent but he lacks the ambition,”

“Then why don’t you show him what it looks like?” My eyes followed my father down the bleachers.

“I haven’t passed a ball since high school,” I informed him.

He shrugged. “What are you afraid of? That they will laugh at you or are you afraid to step on your husband’s toes and make him feel like an amateur?”

“What is the coach talking about?” Maxwell asked, eavesdropping on our conversation.

“Nothing,” I replied, wanting my father to drop this.

“It doesn’t look like nothing to me,” Maxwell noted.

“Well, then, it doesn’t concern you, Johnson,” I remarked.

“I’m your husband,” He played the husband card thinking I will change my mind.

“Fake husband,” I reminded him.

“I am trying here, Burgess,” He said with a sigh.

“Are you?” I retorted.

“Are you mad at me about flirting with the girls or that I took their contact details?” He queried. “Are you jealous?” He mocked me.

I wasn’t jealous of his playboy ways or how he misuses his fame to get what he wants. He can talk about jealousy when I actually give a damn about him.

“Give me that damn ball,” I grumbled, taking the ball from his hand—not missing the shocked look on his face.

I caught him giving my father a questioning look when I called for his receiver to go deep. I pulled my arm back and threw the ball in a spiral watching the receiver catch it.

I turned to look at Maxwell. “Who’s jealous now?”

“Wait, where the hell did you learn to do that?” Maxwell asked, stopping me from walking away. His team coming closer wanting to know the same thing.

“Why do you break it to them, coach? I said to my father.

Everyone looked at my father waiting for an explanation. “AJ Burgess was one of the best quarterbacks in high school,” My father told them, guilt flickering in his eyes.