Breaking the Playbook [COMPLETED]

Chapter 26

Lolo's POV

The atmosphere at home was suffocating. My father's presence, once a source of comfort and stability, had become a constant reminder of the escalating chaos in my life. The scandal surrounding Brooks and me had torn through our lives like a hurricane, leaving wreckage and uncertainty in its wake. And now, with the media scrutiny intensifying and my father's frustration boiling over, the weight of it all was becoming unbearable.

The tension had been building for weeks—a slow but steady erosion of the once unbreakable bond between my father and me. It was as if we were walking on a tightrope, each step bringing us closer to a precipice we both feared but couldn't avoid. Every glance, every word exchanged was charged with an underlying hostility, a reflection of the deepening rift between us.

It started with the phone calls. My father's tone was always clipped, his words sharp as he demanded updates on the situation. "Lolo, what the hell is going on with you and Brooks?" he'd barked during one particularly tense call. "This is jeopardizing everything we've worked for."

I'd tried to stay calm, but the frustration in his voice only served to ignite my own anger. "Dad, you know it's not just about us. The media is blowing this out of proportion. I can't control what they say."

"Control? You're supposed to be making sure this doesn't spiral out of control," he snapped back. "You're my daughter, and you're bringing this team into disrepute. How the hell do you think that looks?"

I'd hung up feeling raw and exposed, the sting of his words lingering long after the call ended. I'd tried to bury my feelings under layers of work and distraction, but they always seemed to resurface, gnawing at me. My father's disappointment was palpable, and it ate away at my resolve.

The breaking point came one evening after a particularly grueling day. I had come home late, hoping to avoid another confrontation. But as soon as I stepped through the door, I knew something was off. My father was waiting for me in the living room, his face a mask of barely contained anger.

"Lolo, we need to talk," he said, his voice low and dangerous. He didn't even look up from the newspaper spread out on the coffee table, the headline glaring up at us: "NFL Scandal: Coach's Daughter at the Center of Controversy."

I felt my chest tighten, the familiar ache of dread settling in. "Dad, I've had a long day. Can't this wait?"

"No, it can't," he said, finally looking up. His eyes were hard, a steely gaze that made me feel like a child caught in a lie. "This isn't just about you and Brooks. This is about the team, the organization, and everything we've worked for."

"I get that," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. "But I'm not the only one to blame here. The media is relentless, and they're making it worse."

"You're right," he said, his tone shifting to a dangerous calm. "But you are responsible for the choices you've made, and you need to face the consequences. This is affecting everyone. The players, the staff, and yes, the damn team."

The words stung, more than he probably realized. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it was difficult. "Dad, I love Brooks. You know that. I didn't plan for any of this to happen. I'm trying to manage everything as best as I can."

His expression didn't soften. "Love doesn't excuse poor decisions. This isn't just about feelings. It's about professionalism and responsibility. And right now, you're failing on both fronts."

The frustration boiled over, and I could feel my control slipping. "You don't think I know that? Do you think this is easy for me? I'm trying to juggle my career, my relationship, and the media fallout all while dealing with your anger. It's too much."