She swallowed.
“Did you pay them, Maddie? Did you pay women to say they’d slept with me?”
She didn’t answer, but to her credit, she didn’t look away, and he knew he was right.
“Fuck,” he breathed slowly. On some level he’d always known that was how it had gone down. It was the only explanation. And yet having her all but confirm it…“You hate me that much?”
“No,” she said, scooting to the edge of her chair and putting her hand out toward him before letting it drop to her lap. “I made a mistake. A horrible mistake. And I am sorry, so sorry—you have no idea. But I panicked. You were pulling away, our marriage was falling apart.”
“I was pulling away?” he asked. “When? After I saw you sucking my best friend’s dick?”
She winced. “No, before that. You were always busy, and you only cared about football. And then you’d get home and be distracted. It got better for a while when I had the show—”
“God,” he muttered. “Not that fucking show.”
“That show was the only thing that made me happy!”
He stared at her. It shouldn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt. And yet…“Jesus, Mad.”
“You know what I mean,” she snapped. “At least then I could be someone other than Jackson Burke’s wife.”
“You were only on the show because you were Jackson Burke’s wife! The show was literally about being the wife of a famous athlete.”
“I didn’t come here to fight,” she said, pressing her lips together.
“I know. You came here to get me back, and I’m trying over and over to tell you that it’s not happening.”
She glanced down at her lap. “You’re not blameless in all of this, Jackson. The man that I agreed to marry—he was a football star, yes, but he was also my friend. He was a man as well as an athlete. But then you quit seeing me.”
Jackson itched to call bullshit. Madison had always been skilled at playing the victim card, and he was sick of it. And yet…
In this, at least, there was a sting of truth to her words.
He wasn’t taking blame for her actions. Not for the affairs or the lies or the way she’d served him papers while he was in the hospital. But Jackson was man enough to admit that she was right about him being self-absorbed toward the end.
“Fuck,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s too late for all of this, Mad.”
“Why?”
Because I think I might be falling for your sister. “That part of my life is done,” he said quietly.
“What if it doesn’t have to be?”
“What?”
Her eyes dropped to his shoulder. “You may not be able to play, but you can still be a part of that world. You’d be a fantastic coach.”
Jackson froze. How had she known? How, of all the people in his life, could it be his ex-wife who was able to zero in on his deepest, most gut-wrenching desire? He hadn’t told a soul about the possibility of going back to the Redhawks as a coach. Not his parents. Not his former teammates. He’d even gone around his agent.
He hadn’t told Mollie. He couldn’t tell Mollie. He couldn’t possibly tell the woman he’d practically begged to give him a chance that he checked his personal email account twenty times a day in hopes that his old coach would give him the green light. That he lived in fear he’d never set foot on a field again—and was hoping against hope that he would.
But Madison…Madison knew.
And suddenly he was desperate to talk to someone about it. Anyone.
Even her.
“I’m trying to be,” he said gruffly.
Her nose wrinkled. “Trying to be what?”
“A coach.”
Her lips parted in surprise before a wide smile spread across her face. A genuine smile.
“I’m so glad, Jackson. Truly. For the Redhawks? I bet Jerry is dying to have you.”
He shrugged. “Not really. Wants me to get my image cleaned up. Seems he’s worried that my shitty rep means the guys won’t listen to me.”
Her smile disappeared. “So if you don’t get this, it’s because of me.”
“You and your lies,” he said. “Pretty much.”
Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry.”
“You could fix it, you know,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You could go to the press. Tell them you lied.” She looked away, and he laughed. “Yeah. Thought so.”
“Jackson—”
“Don’t worry about it, Mad. I’ve got my own plan for damage control.”
Her eyes narrowed just slightly before she resumed a placid smile. “How?”
“I’m going to tell my side of the story.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I’m doing a tell-all interview.”
She snorted. “You’ve always had a firm policy against talking to the press.”
“Something you counted on when you spread your toxic lies, huh?”
For the first time since entering his office she lost her smooth control and her eyes went a little wide in panic. “This is ridiculous. Too much time has passed. You’ll just look like you’re shoveling pathetic excuses. Nobody will believe you.”