The Ex Project by Nia Arthurs

Chapter Thirty-Six

“What are you waiting for, son?”His father stared at him in confusion. “Didn’t you hear the announcement? This is your last call to board.”

“Just a minute, dad,” Duane said, looking over the terminal. Tourists crowded the airport, mostly dressed in Hawaiian shirts, cargo pants and open-toed sandals. The heat was already getting to them, flushing their faces in red as they came face-to-face with the Caribbean humidity.

“He wants to spend a little more time with his mother. Leave him be.”

“Yeah, right,” Gio mumbled under his breath. “Isn’t he just waiting for—”

Manny stabbed Gio in the side with his elbow.

His little brother gasped in mock-pain. “Mom!”

“Pipe down.” His mother rolled her eyes. “You’d never think my boys are adults now with the way they behave.”

His father, ever a stickler for time, discipline and following the rules, checked his watch. “Duane…”

“I know, dad. I know.” He scanned the terminal again, hoping beyond hope that he saw a tall, glamorous woman with long brown hair, dark skin and the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

The doors opened and closed.

His heart lurched straight to his throat…

It wasn’t her.

His shoulders slumped in disappointment for the hundredth time.

“Boarders for Flight 343, this is your last call…”

“Duane,” his mother shifted from side to side, “your father’s right to be antsy. You’ll miss your flight at this rate.”

Duane shot Manny a helpless look.

His brother stepped forward and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sorry, man. It doesn’t seem like she’s coming.”

Duane’s entire chest caved in. If Yolanda rejected a love confession delivered by Ong Sung-hoon, there really was no chance for him. Either she had decided to get back with Devon or she was too mad to ever consider getting back together.

“Maybe I should have showed up in front of her,” he whispered. “Or… I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t see the message.”

“Or maybe she needs a little more space,” Gio said.

More space? The last thing he wanted to do was give Yolanda Walsh more space. How could he survive when he was going crazy without her?

“Whatever the case, you’ll have to handle your relationship problems after your trip. So many little kids can benefit from this partnership with the CFA. Think about that first and worry about the rest later.”

Duane pulled his carry-on with him. Then he swung back to his brother. “You have my new international number, right? Just in case she calls you because she can’t get in touch with my old number?”

“We’ve got it, D.” Gio forcibly turned him around.

“Go on, son.” His mother waved.

His father gave him an affectionate nod.

Yolanda, where are you?

He walked as slowly as he could to the boarding hall, his eyes darting all over the terminal. His heart dragged behind him, throwing a tantrum and demanding he take the next flight. Demanding he rush over to Yolanda’s and tell her that he would fight for her and for Tay-Tay. That he needed them in his life and he wouldn’t stop loving them even if it killed him.

But Gio was right. Yolanda might have made her choice to move on and he had to respect that.

He could only focus on what he had control over. Hopefully, when he got back, he could have a proper conversation with her. If it truly was the end, he wanted to hear that for himself.

* * *

During the next few days,Duane tried hard to engage in the activities the CFA had lined up for him. Many of the organizers were his fans and had been inspired by his journey to the pro leagues.

“You don’t belong to Belize only,” one of the speakers at the CFA conference said on the mike. “You belong to the Caribbean. What you accomplished on the global stage speaks volumes about the untapped talent that exists here in the West Indies.”

Duane heard the applause, the praise and the accolades, but it all ran through him like water. He felt empty inside. The strain of not seeing Yolanda since he left Belize was getting to him. He couldn’t sleep at night and the delicious food he was offered at every turn failed to ignite his appetite.

By the time he’d reached the last leg of the CFA tour, Duane was emotionally and physically drained. He wanted to go home. He wanted to hear Yolanda’s voice. He wanted to play a game with Tay-Tay and make the tacos he’d missed out that night he and Yolanda argued. He wanted that tiny family as much as he wanted his next breath and it was getting harder and harder to hide that.

“Duane, why don’t we run that line for the soundbite again?” Uri, a scrawny man in charge of the CFA’s infomercial and a hardcore fan of all things pink, tugged on his earring. To the impressive crowd filling the bleachers, he yelled, “I need you to look more lively people.”

The CFA had asked Duane to record a few clips for their commercial. Rather than let him speak in front of a staid green screen, Uri and his team invited Duane’s fans to the stadium to be a part of the commercial.

The CFA had arranged a meet-and-greet after. They’d planned every inch of his day, hoping to squeeze the most out of him. They were efficient. Duane had to give them that.

“Ready to roll, Marden?” Uri asked, scratching his neck with a script printed on pink paper.

“Yes.”

The camera swooped in front of him. Duane shook out his arms. While in the international league, he’d done a few modeling gigs, signed contracts with several brands and worked with a few non-profits. Despite his experience, he still got a little nervous in front of the cameras.

“Camera B pan in,” Uri spoke into a walkie-talkie.

The camera operators did as instructed.

“Marden, enter now. Hands loose. Nice. Nice.”

Duane followed Uri’s instructions and glanced at the teleprompter. “Football is not just a sport.” He lowered his eyes seductively and lifted them to utter in a darker voice, “It’s a way of life.”

“And the crowd goes…” Uri gestured to the ‘spectators’ in the bleachers. They all started waving their flags and cheering. A few hard-core fans had their faces painted in the colors of Duane’s old team.

A pleased smile crossed Uri’s face. This take would probably make the cut.

Duane smirked at the camera. “The Caribbean Football Association is taking things to the next…” His eyes snagged on someone gliding onto the football field.

“The next level,” Uri hissed, desperately waving his arms.

The crowd went silent.

Duane craned his neck, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

“Marden!” Uri gestured more wildly.

Duane peered into the sunshine and his heart began to beat faster. Although she was still far away, he would recognize that tall, lithe body anywhere.

“Association… next level…” Duane tried hard to concentrate but found that he couldn’t. Lifting the mike at his lapel, he spoke into it, so his voice boomed over the stadium. “Yolanda.”

She stopped in her tracks and tilted her head. The sun was at her back, so he couldn’t make out her face, but he could feel her.

It didn’t make any sense. Maybe missing her had pushed him to insanity. It didn’t change the fact that her presence made him feel like he could breathe again.

“Yolanda, the day I lost football, I thought I would never recover. My world shattered and I fell into a darkness that consumed me.” Duane stared at her as a shocked silence swept the field. “But losing you showed me what real pain was like. My world fell into darkness and I realized that you and Tay-Tay, you’re my light.”

She started running.

Duane started moving too. “I love you.”

Yolanda ran faster, her hair streaming behind her and her long, flowing dress fluttering in the wind.

Duane tried to rush forward, but something tugged him back. He stumbled and whipped around to glare at the person that would dare to keep him from his woman.

“The mike wire, the wire!” Uri flapped his arms like a bird and the sound engineers skittered around Duane, freeing him from the microphone.

By that time, Yolanda was already near to him. Sweat rolled down her beautiful face and her eyes sparkled with a light he’d never seen in it before. She slowed down to catch her breath and stare at him.

Duane’s mind went blank. He could hardly believe she was here.

“I…” Yolanda took a step, “love you.” She took another step. “I love you so, so much, Duane. It was so hard for me to accept that you might love me too because I’ve never encountered a man as patient and humble as you. It didn’t feel real. I didn’t think I deserved it.”

How could she think that? She was exquisite, intelligent and kind. She was a great mother and so strong that she took his breath away. He couldn’t imagine anyone better than her.

“But I realized that I couldn’t let fear hold me back from experiencing the love in front of me.” She opened her hands and raised them, palm up. “So I’m letting go of my doubts and holding on to you instead.”

His heart filled with so much joy it almost flew out of his chest. He ran to her, lifted her by the waist and spun her around.

The crowd went wild, cheering and hooting.

Uri threw his script in the air. “What the hell. Let’s take five.”

Yolanda gripped his shoulders and stared down at him, her smile more brilliant than the sun and twice as hot. “How did you get in touch with Ong Sung-hoon?”

“Destiny had a little part in that.”

“I can’t wait to hear it.”

“I thought you didn’t see it.” He brushed her hair away from her cheek tenderly. “My heart got shredded.”

“I’m sorry. I told my mom to watch Tay-Tay and she took forever to get there. Then I tried to get him in the car and he just didn’t understand why I wanted to hurry. By the time we actually got to the airport, you were long gone.”

“Where is he now?” Duane wondered.

“My mom is watching him. I had to make arrangements before I flew over. That’s what took me so long.”

Duane leaned closer to her. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” She kissed him sweetly. He squeezed her tighter to him, his heart beating hard and in rhythm to hers.

“Ehem.” Uri cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to be rude, but this isn’t an actual game and there is no kissing screen on the jumbo-tron. We’re trying to film a commercial here.”

“Oh, sorry.” Yolanda broke the kiss and sheepishly ducked her head.

Though she tried to wiggle free, Duane kept holding on to her. The crowd had their cell phones out, filming his every move.

He tilted his chin proudly, glad that he didn’t have to waste time in presenting his heart to the world. In fact, he’d shout it from the rooftops if he could. But having others post it online would be a decent alternative.

Yolanda, on the other hand, did not share his comfort level in the spotlight. She inched behind him, trying to wiggle her hands free.

“I’ll wait for you to finish your work.”

“It won’t take long. I’ll take you back to the hotel and we can talk,” he said.

“Actually,” Uri butted in again, “you have a meet and greet.”

Duane shot him a dirty look.

The director pranced around and headed back to his high chair.

Yolanda laughed. “Stay and finish out what you need to do. I can wait.”

“I won’t let you wait long.” He squeezed her hand.

Thankfully, the organizers didn’t mind Yolanda sticking close to him during the fan signing. And, since most of the fans had already seen their dramatic reunion, they included both of them in conversations and even invited her into pictures.

Yolanda chuckled when the crowd grew thin. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a celebrity. I’m exhausted.”

“It gets easier with practice.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Are you impressed to have such a famous boyfriend?”

“You’ll be infamous after that video gets out.”

“If that’s what I’m known for, I’ll be happy until I die.”

She laughed and pushed his chest. “You are ridiculous.”

“I love you.” He would never stop delighting in the way her eyelashes fluttered when he said that. And he would never stop delighting in the way she said it back.