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He called back.

Declined.

Then sent me some long-ass text I never finished reading.

Because sir⁠—

You haven’t checked on me consistently in years and now you wanna clock in as Father of the Year because the family got some tea?

Absolutely the fuck not.

Still, I knew they were disappointed.

Everybody was.

The family hated my ass right now.

Shit.

Some days I hated my fucking self.

Not because of Collin.

Never him.

But because I really believed Xay was going to leave his wife for me.

Three fucking years.

Three.

I let that nigga feed me the same shit over and over.

I’m leaving.

Just give me time.

Me and Sam ain’t really together like that.

I’m only there because of the kids.

Whole time this nigga had Sam at home, me waiting on him, and was sliding around with Avery too.

Had Carter.

Got Avery pregnant again.

I wasn’t even in a competition.

None of us were.

We just didn’t know we were all running the same stupid-ass race.

And Xay was standing at the finish line lying to everybody.

I hated what I’d done to Sam.

That part didn’t get easier just because time passed.