Chapter 5: Rowen, Part 2

"Oh shit," someone says behind me as I move into the room and the door closes. Santos's eyes snap over to mine, and Tiffany immediately moves to my side. I have never been this angry in my life. It is taking everything in me to hold back. "Babe, I think you need go to the other room."

"Rowen," Tiffany argues, "it's okay. I get why he's angry."

I take my eyes off Santos's to look at her. We've had this conversation before. We're a team. We have each other's backs no matter what. "Don't fight me on this, Tiff. This is what we do, remember?"

I know she gets it when she gives me a small smile and nods. When she finally walks out of the room, I turn back to glare and Santos. I hope he can feel the anger radiating from me. I feel like it's coming off of me in waves.

"Is there a reason you think it's okay to tear into my wife like that? WAGs are off-limits."

Santos snorts a laugh, which infuriates me even more. "Just because you've been married for like three minutes doesn't make her a WAG in my book." He takes a swig of his beer and leans against the counter, looking like he doesn't have a care in the world. Like I won't do anything about this. But he's wrong.

I told my dad and my coach months ago, if it comes down to Tiffany or soccer, Tiffany will always be my choice. The moment I realized the truth of that statement, I felt free. Free to care for my wife and always put her first, no matter the consequence.

"I don't give a shit what your book says. You ever disrespect my wife like that again, and it'll come out of your face."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Damn right I am. I don't give a shit if you feel guilty about your marriage going south. That had nothing to do with her, and you're not going to try to project your feelings onto her, got it?"

He scoffs again. "Nothing to do with her? You realize she was there, right? You realize I was fucking your wife," he sneers, "on a regular basis, right?"

I step forward, and he immediately straightens. Finally, he understands that I have no concerns about defending her. None at all. Consequences be damned. And it's time I set him straight. "I know exactly what she used to do. I also know, instead of trying to throw all the blame for her actions onto other people, she tried to make amends. She didn't go to Mariana to give her all the details. Mariana went to her. Mariana already knew, Santos. She fucking knew you were cheating on her. She needed confirmation, so she could leave your sorry ass."

He narrows his eyes at me, but I'm not done.

"Let me ask you a question… the night Mariana left you, who were you fucking that night? It wasn't Tiffany, was it?"

He keeps getting more and more angry. His face is brighter red than I've seen, even after an hour of sprints. But this shit needs to end, and it needs to end now.

"I know because Tiffany was already done with that life by then," I remind him. "She did nothing wrong by answering Mariana's questions. In fact, those were the first honest answers Mariana actually got, because you sure as hell weren't telling her the truth. You need to take a good look at the role you played in your marriage before you spout shit in anyone else's direction. While you've been sitting around feeling sorry for yourself, Tiffany has been trying to make things right and gave Mariana the one thing in that conversation you hadn't given her… respect."

I turn to leave, my piece having been said. When I reach the door, though, I realize I have to make one more thing clear.

"One last thing." Turning back around, I glare at him. "I'm not a rookie anymore, and I'm not afraid of you. You ever speak about my wife like that again, whether she's in earshot or not, and I'll bash your fucking face in."

I storm into the living area and all eyes swing to mine. "Let's go." I grab Tiffany's hand, but she resists.

"Wait, wait, wait," she says, pulling out of grasp. "Are you not staying for poker night?"

"No way in hell can I be in the same room with that man right now," I spit out. "Sorry, Daniel. I know this is your last hurrah."

He waves me off as he passes out chips. "I get it, man. I'm just glad you didn't get blood in my kitchen. It's a bitch to disinfect."

"We still need to take these boxes to Quincy," Tiffany reminds me. "Even if I don't stay, she still needs them, and the baby needs this thingy." She waves the washcloth in my face.

I close my eyes and take a calming breath. "Fine. We'll drop them off."

She gives me a smile and whispers a quiet, "Thank you." I just nod and grab everything we're taking with us.

"Daniel," Tiffany calls out. She doesn't say anything until he looks up at her. "Don't say anything to Santos, okay? Let it go. I'm fine. He's just hurting."

Daniel considers for a few second, then nods once, and turns back to the game. As we walk out the door, I barely hear someone say, "See Christian? If you pulled your head out of your ass, you wouldn't have missed out on snatching up a good woman like her."

Tiffany chuckles at the exchange, but I'm still too riled up to find any humor in it. "Rowen," she calls out. I'm several feet ahead of her. "Rowen, stop," she calls again when I don't respond.

I ignore her, instead taking the time to situate the boxes in the back of the car and slamming the trunk. When I'm finally done, she's leaning against the car door, arms and legs crossed. I stalk over and stand in front of her, hands on my hips.

"You okay now?" she asks but doesn't move.

"No."

"You gonna let him get to you every time he talks trash?"

"Maybe."

"You need to let it go."

I shake my head and run my hands through my hair in agitation, beanie forgotten at home. "How can you say that? He was in your face, screaming at you."

"I know. But he wasn't gonna hurt me."

"Physically. Emotionally is another story. He has no right to say those things to you."

"I agree. But Rowen, he is grieving right now."

"That is no excuse…"

"It's not an excuse. But it's a reason to give him a little bit of grace right now." She pushes off the car and puts her hands on my shoulders. "Babe, you saw the way he used to look at Mariana. He loves her so, so much."

"Then he should have kept his dick in his pants," I grumble.

"I agree. But he didn't, and he lost his entire family because of it." I shake my head at the absurdity of her defending the guy who just called her a whore, but she refuses to lose eye contact with me. "Look, I've forgiven myself and made amends the best I can. And you know how long and hard that process was. Multiply that guilt by a million, add in some children, and you have a really, really depressed guy." I look at the ground, not wanting to hear her justify his actions. "Think about it. If you had cheated on me - "

My eyes snap up to hers. "Never gonna happen - "

" - and I left, how would you feel? Your mistake wouldn't take the pain away, right?"

I put my hands back on my hips and blow out a breath. Fucking hell. She's right, and I hate that. "It still doesn't make it right…"

"I know. But part of the reason you're defending me is because you think he hurt me. Rowen, he didn't." I look at her skeptically. "No, really. He shocked me because I wasn't expecting it. But he didn't hurt me. I know where his anger is coming from. And I don't want you to have problems working with him over something that doesn't affect me at all."

Looking in her eyes, I try to assess if she's telling me the truth. Her face looks relaxed. There's a small smile on her lips. No tears in her eyes. She isn't lying about how she feels.

"I don't get you sometimes." Resting our foreheads together, I grab her around the waist and pull her to me.

"You're not supposed to. You're just supposed to tell me I'm right."

That gets a half smile from me. "I'm not telling you you're right about this. But I can respect that you don't want this to be a bigger deal than it has to be."

"Good enough." She kisses me softly and pulls away. "Come on. Let's get this stuff to Quincy so we can go home and get back in our honeymoon bubble."

I smile and agree, because what else am I going to do? Besides, that's where I'd wanted to be all along.