Fate Reclaimed

Unraveling (Jayson)

I had always been good at blocking out distractions when I stepped onto the court. The roar of the crowd, the bright lights, the pressure—it all became background noise once the game tipped off. Tonight, though, shit felt different. My head was full of static, and no matter how hard I tried to focus, I couldn't quiet the noise.

My family was in the stands—Mom, Deuce, Zoey, and Daylin. I glanced up during warm-ups and caught Deuce's small hand waving wildly from his seat. That kid was my whole world. Seeing his smile always reminded me why I worked as hard as I did. But Zoey's presence brought a different kind of weight. She'd been distant lately, her patience thinning as my friendship with Ari became a sore spot between us.

From the moment the whistle blew, I knew it wasn't going to be my night. The opposing team came out aggressive, double-teaming me every time I touched the ball. My usual rhythm was off, and no matter how much I pushed, shots weren't falling.

By the third quarter, frustration seeped into my game. I missed an open layup, cursed under my breath, and slammed the ball into the floor. Coach called a timeout, pulling me aside.

"Calm down, Tatum. You're forcing it," he said. "Let the game come to you."

But it wasn't just the game. It was everything—the unspoken tension with Zoey, the concern for Ari, and the weight of my responsibilities as a player, a father, and a man.

The buzzer sounded, and we were down by five. The arena was quieter than usual, except for the cheers of the visiting team's fans. I walked off the court, shoulders heavy, jaw clenched. Deuce ran up to me in the tunnel, giving me the hug I didn't know I needed.

"You played great, Dad," he said, his voice muffled against my jersey.

"Thanks, buddy," I said, lifting him up. I kissed his forehead, trying to push the sting of the loss aside.

Zoey wasn't as understanding. She didn't say much on the car ride home, scrolling on her phone and avoiding eye contact. Daylin, trying to lighten the mood, cracked a few jokes in the backseat with Deuce. Mom glanced at me with her knowing eyes, but she didn't push. She never did.

At home, I took a long, hot shower, hoping to wash away the frustration. The water pounded against my skin, but it didn't drown out the thoughts swirling in my head. I thought about the game, Zoey's silence, and Ari. I couldn't stop worrying about her.

When I stepped out, the bathroom fogged up, I heard muffled crying from the bedroom. I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked out to find Zoey sitting on the edge of the bed, my phone in her hand. Her face was streaked with tears.

"What's going on?" I asked, my stomach sinking.

She held up my phone, her hand shaking. "What the fuck is going on? Are you serious, Jayson?"

I froze. I didn't need to ask what she'd found. I knew.

"It's not what you think," I said, trying to keep my voice calm.

"Not what I think?" she snapped, standing up. "You've been texting Ari. You've been talking to her about shit you don't even talk to me about. And don't even try to tell me you're just friends!"

"Zoey, we are just friends," I said, my voice firm. "I've known her since we were kids. I'm tired of repeating that. She's going through something, and I'm just trying to be there for her."

"She's not your damn responsibility!" Zoey shouted. "I'm your fucking girlfriend. I'm the one who's supposed to come first. But you're acting like the bitch is more important than me!"

I ran a hand over my face, trying to stay composed. "I'm not choosing her over you. I love you, Zoey. But Ari needs me right now. I can't just turn my back on her. I've never been the one to do that."