Page 55 of Breakaway

“A girl answered his phone.” She couldn’t help but wonder which girl it was from the photos.

“Maybe you dialed the wrong number?” Katie suggested, trying to help.

“You know that I didn’t.”

Katie shrugged. “So what are you going to do now?”

Morgan let out a deep breath. She hurt as though she had been stabbed in the heart. “I don’t know, but it looks like I am staying at Casa Morris. With the added fun of watching my uncle gloat that he was right about Travis all along.”

“Why is he so down on athletes, anyway? I mean, he is one!”

Morgan grimaced. “Exactly. Apparently, he wasn’t quite a saint when he was just starting out, so he knows what all the young athletes are thinking and doing. I was so sure that he was wrong about Travis.” Her heart broke as she said the words.

“Girl, you don’t need him!” Katie sat straight up, with a Cheshire-cat-like grin on her face. “I have an idea! I need a roommate, and you need a place of your own. Move in with me!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Morgan

Morgan dialed Travis’s number the next morning. She didn’t look at the calendar or even the clock. She didn’t know if he would be sleeping or at practice, and she didn’t really care.

“Hello?” Travis answered, his voice groggy.

She’d woken him. A devious feeling of satisfaction hit her. “Travis. Hungover?” she asked harshly.

“Morgan? Wh-what?” He stuttered as though he was half asleep, because he probably was.

“The Falcons sure know how to party.”

“Wait, what? Morgan,”—he cleared his throat, probably trying wake up—“What are you talking about?”

How could he dare play dumb with her? Her voice dripped with ice, and she didn’t care. “Last night. It’s all over social media. Apparently you’re not the man I thought you were.”

“Oh, wait—Morgan, let me explain.” His voice was now filled with desperation. “I can explain. It wasn’t what you think.”

His feigning innocence annoyed her even more. “Travis, do you know why my uncle never wanted me to date an athlete? To avoid players like you. I told him you were different. I told him you weren’t a player. I stood up for you.”

Hot tears stung her eyes as she spoke. Her heart was breaking, as she said the words, “Travis, we’re done.”

That familiar feeling of her heart being torn from her chest returned. How much loss could one person sustain? Just three months out from losing her mom, she was hurting and alone again.

“You can’t mean that,” he begged. “Please say you don’t mean that. I really can explain!”

His plea made her heart ache more, but she wouldn’t allow herself to soften. She already knew that bending too far made the eventual break even worse. She’d done that with her ex, when she’d wanted so much to believe him when he argued that he hadn’t cheated. But allowing herself to hope had only led to greater pain in the end, when she’d realized that not only was he a cheater, but also a liar. “Travis, I really do mean it. I am worth more than this. I deserve someone who’s not playing me.” Her heart broke a little more with each word she said. “I mean, what did I expect from an athlete? Their occupation is literally playing games. Why wouldn’t an athlete play with hearts, too?”

Ugh, she hated that her uncle was right!

It was ironic that Travis had helped put her heart back together, and now he was shattering it all over again.

“I trusted you...” The lump in her throat choked her, and she couldn’t get the words out.

“Morgan,” Travis said urgently. “I really care about you. Don’t end it. Give me a chance to explain, please.”

“Too late. You should’ve thought about that before plastering your partying all over social media. You sure do have a way with the ladies. And now they can have you.”

“Morgan, please—”

“Goodbye, Travis.” Her heart was in a million little pieces by the time she hung up the phone.