The Soccer Star’s Forgotten Wife Chapter 08

The Soccer Star’s Forgotten Wife Chapter 08

Ryan stayed with me that night.

At first, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea.

His eyes were still swollen from crying when I brought him upstairs. He sat on the edge of my couch clutching the stuffed soccer ball I’d bought him years ago.

For several minutes, neither of us spoke.

Then Ryan quietly asked,

“Are you still mad at me?”

The question broke my heart.

Because children always think love disappears when they’re wrong.

I sat beside him.

“Yes.”

His face immediately fell.

Before he could cry again, I continued.

“I’m disappointed.”

Ryan lowered his head.

“But that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you.”

His shoulders started shaking.

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

For the first time in weeks, the apology sounded genuine.

Not because somebody told him to say it.

Because he finally understood why.

I pulled him into my arms.

And my son cried until he fell asleep.

Across the city, Adrian was having the worst week of his career.

His team lost another match.

Sponsors were asking questions.

Reporters followed him everywhere.

And every interview somehow turned into questions about Claire.

Not soccer.

Not championships.

Claire.

By Thursday morning, he was already irritated when his publicist called.

“We have a problem.”

Adrian rubbed his forehead.

“Another one?”

“Olivia.”

His eyes opened.

“What about her?”

Silence.

Then:

“You need to see this.”

A link appeared on his phone.

Adrian clicked.

The article loaded immediately.

Headline:

EXCLUSIVE: WHO REALLY BUILT OLIVIA HART’S CAREER?

His stomach tightened.

He kept reading.

The article was thorough.

Painfully thorough.

Email records.

Business contacts.

Sponsorship recommendations.

Charity event introductions.

Industry referrals.

Every major opportunity Olivia had received during her first years in entertainment led back to one person.

Claire Bennett.

Not Olivia.

Not her management team.

Claire.

The article included statements from producers.

Agents.

Sponsors.

Executives.

All saying the same thing.

Claire opened doors.

Claire made calls.

Claire fixed problems.

Claire created opportunities.

One quote stood out.

Without Claire Bennett, Olivia Hart would not have become a

household name.

Adrian read the sentence three times.

Then a fourth.

Then a fifth.

Because it didn’t make sense.

If Claire had done all that…

Why had Olivia never mentioned it?

Why had he never known?

And more importantly—

Why had Claire never told him?

Then he remembered.

She had.

More than once.

He simply hadn’t listened.

The internet exploded again.

This time, Olivia couldn’t escape it.

Reporters camped outside her apartment.

Brands paused negotiations.

Talk shows mocked her.

Even some of her own fans started questioning her.

That afternoon, Olivia arrived at Adrian’s house without warning.

The moment he opened the door, he knew something was wrong.

Her makeup couldn’t hide the panic in her eyes.

“Adrian.”

He stepped aside.

“What happened?”

“What happened?”

She laughed bitterly.

“The entire country thinks I’m a liar.”

Adrian remained silent.

Olivia walked into the living room.

“You have to help me.”

Help.

The word felt strange.

Because suddenly he remembered how many times Claire had helped everyone.

Without asking for anything.

Without demanding credit.

Without turning it into a transaction.

“Adrian?”

He looked up.

Olivia’s voice softened.

“You believe me, right?”

For the first time, he hesitated.

The hesitation lasted less than two seconds.

But Olivia noticed.

And her face changed immediately.

“What does that mean?”

Adrian looked away.

“What exactly are you asking me?”

“The article is making it sound like I stole Claire’s life.”

The room went quiet.

Then Adrian asked the question he should’ve asked years ago.

“Did you?”

Olivia froze.

The silence was answer enough.

Not a complete answer.

But enough.

Because innocent people usually respond immediately.

Olivia didn’t.

She simply stared at him.

And Adrian felt something cold settle inside his chest.

Not heartbreak.

Disappointment.

That evening, Ryan returned home.

The house felt different now.

Too large.

Too empty.

Too quiet.

Every room reminded him of Claire.

The snacks she used to buy.

The laundry she used to fold.

The notes she left in his lunchbox.

Things he’d never noticed before.

Things he couldn’t stop noticing now.

He walked into the kitchen.

His grandmother was sitting at the table.

“There’s pizza in the fridge.”

Ryan didn’t move.

His grandmother frowned.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

Ryan stared down at the floor.

Then quietly asked:

“Grandma.”

“What?”

“Did Mom really do everything?”

The older woman looked surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“The sponsors.”

“The charity.”

“Dad’s career.”

His grandmother hesitated.

Too long.

Ryan noticed.

Children always notice.

Finally she sighed.

“Your mother helped a lot.”

“A lot?”

Another pause.

Then:

“More than your father realizes.”

Ryan’s stomach twisted.

Because that sounded familiar.

More than your father realizes.

More than Ryan realized too.

The next morning, Daniel called me.

“You need to turn on the television.”

I frowned.

“That’s never a good sentence.”

“Trust me.”

Curious, I grabbed the remote.

A morning talk show filled the screen.

The host smiled at the camera.

“Today we’re discussing one of the biggest sports scandals of the year.”

I immediately regretted turning it on.

Then the host continued.

“Not the affair rumors.”

“Not the actress.”

“The wife.”

My eyebrows lifted.

“What?”

The panel spent the next twenty minutes discussing me.

Not Adrian.

Not Olivia.

Me.

One host held up a list of business achievements.

Another highlighted charity projects.

Another displayed sponsorship contracts.

By the end of the segment, they were calling me:

“The secret architect behind Adrian Hale’s empire.”

I stared at the screen.

Speechless.

Then Daniel laughed.

“You okay?”

“No.”

“What happened?”

“I think this is the most appreciation I’ve received in seven years.”

Daniel became quiet.

Then softly said:

“You deserved it seven years ago.”

The words hit harder than any public praise.

Because they came from someone who expected nothing from me.

That afternoon, Adrian finally did something unexpected.

He showed up at my office.

No warning.

No text.

No phone call.

Just Adrian Hale standing in the lobby of my building.

Every employee immediately recognized him.

Of course they did.

The receptionist looked ready to faint.

My boss looked delighted.

Meanwhile, I was annoyed.

Deeply annoyed.

When I stepped into the lobby, Adrian stood up.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he held out a folder.

I frowned.

“What is this?”

His voice sounded rough.

Different.

Almost uncertain.

“The foundation records.”

I didn’t take it.

“So?”

Adrian looked directly at me.

Something he rarely used to do.

“I read everything.”

My stomach tightened.

The lobby suddenly felt too small.

Too public.

Too exposed.

For a long moment, Adrian simply stared at me.

Then quietly said:

“I didn’t know.”

I laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because it was unbelievable.

Seven years.

Seven years of marriage.

And those were the first meaningful words he’d spoken to me.

I didn’t know.

The problem was that he finally did.

And I wasn’t sure it mattered anymore.

As I looked at the man standing in front of me, I realized something.

The hardest part of losing me wasn’t going to be finding me.

It was going to be convincing me that he deserved another chance.

And for the first time in his life, Adrian Hale was beginning to understand that.