I said someone was going to pay for all of this, and that person ended up being me.

I should have known it from the start, should have guessed that I couldn’t get by unscathed after all of the terrible things I’d done to jeopardize our season, not to mention stealing from my other housemates.

Now it was time to face the reckoning. With the position that Eloise had been put in, I wasn’t letting her solve my problems for me. Not again. I was a man, and it was time to start acting like one. This could end all of my dreams, but I’d done that the minute I allowed myself to be influenced for money. The moment I started breaking the rules.

Coach sits in his office, the season never over for him. Once we all leave the court, and the gym is locked up for the foreseeable months, he gets down to scouting work. I watch as he shuffles papers around on his desk, his eyes tired from what I’m sure is still a full day of work for him.

Knocking, my heart seizes up. Here goes nothing. “Hey, Coach.”

A smile pulls at his lips, probably happy to have some human interaction. “Reiter, didn’t expect to see you back here.”

I shrug, pain coating every cell in my body. “I wish I didn’t have to be here.”

His face turns to stone. Coach has been doing this a long time, he knows when a scandal has landed on his doorstep. “Aw shit, what did you do?”

I sit down, needing to conserve my strength for this. “Before I get to all that, let me explain something, something that I’ve never told anyone on this team. Growing up, I didn’t have the perfect home life. Hell, that’s an understatement … my childhood was hell. When I was about ten, my mother began to … change. Her behavior became erratic; she’d show up to work for a week, cook dinner, pick me up from school. But then the next week … I’d come home to the stove burners on, with no pans on it. Just fire, who knew how long it had been that way. I started to find empty alcohol bottles in every nook and cranny. As a twelve-year-old, I’d wake up to my mother walking in the door at three a.m., not knowing where she’d been or how long I had been left in the house alone.”

Coach’s face contorts to one of sadness, and it’s the exact look I’ve been running from for years. The reason I’d kept this secret for so long.

“I know that you know, I got into Jade Mountain on a full athletic scholarship. But as a college player, one of things we always talk about is how much money we bring in to the school, and they make off of us. But we see none of it. And for me, that was so hard. I left home, don’t have time to hold down a job, can’t profit off of my fame. So … I had to turn to other avenues.”

Coach sighs, burying his head in his hands. “Colton, I know how hard it can be. But don’t tell me you—”

“I cheated, Coach. I stole merchandise and sold it, I shaved points, I even threw a game. You have to know all of this, because it’s finally time I come clean.”

He pauses, looking at me somberly. And then he slaps a hand on his desk. “Goddammit! Why didn’t you think you could come to me about this earlier? I could have tried to help, do something.”

I shake my head, emotion clogging my throat. “I know as much as you do that you couldn’t do anything to help my family. There are no official routes I could have taken to care for her, so I had to do what I had to do.”

He’s silent for a minute, the stink of the truth filling the office. “I hate it, you know. The rule that says you men can’t bank on your success. I think you have every right to. This is your career, you make a name for the school, they gain thousands in applicants each year because of you, and even more money. I agree, it’s not fair. But … rules are rules. And you’ve broken them. You know I have to report you now?”

I nod, seeing how hard it is going to be for him to do so. “You have to do what you have to do, I would never ask you not to.”

Coach looks at me, sympathy all over his face. “You should try to get ahead of this, set up an interview. Talk to your agent. This is going to be bad, Colton, I’m not going to lie to you.”

I stand, completely exhausted and feeling the need to be done with this for now. “Thanks, Coach. And again, I’m so sorry for putting this on you.”

The first thing I see when I walk out of the athletic complex is her.

“How did you know I’d be here?” I wipe a tired hand over my face.

Eloise walks to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I’m in disbelief at how comforting just that little gesture is. She rights my world even when it’s spinning a thousand miles an hour off its axis.

“I know you, Colton, better than you think I do. What did Coach say?”

I sigh, leaning her against the car as I bury my face in her neck. “That I’m essentially done playing basketball for the school, and probably anywhere else. He is going to have to report me to the division athletic board, although he understands why I had to do it. He recommended doing an interview with one of the top sports networks, to explain my side and possibly try to save my draft chances, although it is a slim chance that any team will want to pick me up now.”

Tears clog her voice. “I’m so sorry, baby. If it wasn’t for me, you would never have to go through any of this.”

I move back, grabbing her face in my hands. “Don’t do that, don’t act like this was anyone’s fault but my own. I am the reason I’m in this mess, I decided to go through with it. You saved me once, from Mac, it was a miracle that even worked for a little while. This was always going to come back to haunt me, I should have known it. It fucking hurts so bad that it is now, but I have to come to terms that I did something wrong, and I’m paying for it.”

She nods, threading her fingers through my hair. “I love you, Colton. Even more now than I did when I realized I’d fallen for you. You’re the kind of man that was worth waiting all this time for.”

Is it insane that hearing those words are all it takes it make me feel better? To make me somewhat forget that I just blew up my entire life.

“I’m never going to play professional basketball.” I almost burst into tears as I say it, burying my head in her hair.

“I know you measure yourself as nothing but a basketball player, but you are so much more. You’re intelligent, loyal, caring … you never would have made those deals if you hadn’t been trying to care for your mum. That is the sign of a true man, one who stops at nothing to take care of the people he loves. That’s how I see you. Not as an athlete, or a future all-star, but as the best man I’ve ever known.”

Her words humble and slaughter me. And I may not have gotten what I wanted today, but I received what I needed.

I was gifted with the love and support of the sassiest British girl I know, and I was learning that it was going to be enough for me.

* * *

Three days later, I sit down in front of a camera crew in a studio, the tie that my agent picked all but strangling me.

The shark of a journalist that the top sports network has sent looks at me as the crew mics me up, her eyes voracious as if she’s about to swallow me whole. I want to wipe the sweat on the back of my neck, but I know she’ll take it as a sign of weakness.

My agent set this interview up, a tell all exclusive about my downfall and why I did what I did. The news hasn’t broken to the media yet, though I know that Coach has reported my actions to the appropriate school and national boards. They haven’t come down with their punishment, and I know eventually I’ll have to go in front of some kind of committee, or police, to tell them exactly what I did.

But for now, I’m trying to save any hopes I have at a career. I lie awake at night, with Eloise in my arms, listening to her breathing and worrying about my future. Will I be able to go to the draft? Will a team even want me after they figure out what a cheat and liar I am? How will I be punished? What will be the justice for my crime of necessity?

I plan to tell the whole truth as soon as they tell me we are live in a few seconds. I can’t protect my mother anymore. Hell, she never did anything to protect me. That old bitterness comes roaring back, the one that thinks she could have done more to prevent her symptoms; gone to therapy, taken her medications, seen the proper doctors. She never did any of it, choosing to treat with booze and partying rather than try to be stable for her child.

I tamp it down, knowing she is sick and that the illness rules her brain more than reason. I can’t be angry for this interview, not when I need to appeal to the masses. I know it’s a sob-story that will save any chance at my future, and that’s the one I’m choosing to give them. I’m not above it, not when everything I’ve ever wanted is on the line.

Looking at the camera, the producer counts us down, and I watch the interviewer straighten and lick her lips.

And then we’re a go. I have an hour to save myself, or a lifetime of what ifs to face.