The Perfect Spiral (by Ashley Constantine) novel Chapter 81

Ashley Constantine

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“I know,” Knox says quietly, taking a sip of his water. Is he acknowledging that she doesn’t like her, or that he could do better? I’ll never know.

His words are cryptic now, filled with hidden meanings that I can’t decipher. Drop it, Alex, I tell myself. It’s not worth the effort. He’s moved on. So should you.

But the look on Kyle’s face tells me he’s not entirely convinced. He doesn’t say anything, though. That can only mean one thing: he’s going to try to find out. If he does, both Knox and I are screwed.

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Days pass in a blur, each morning finding me waking in a cold sweat, my screams echoing in the silence. Exhaustion clings to me like a second skin, the lack of sleep etching its mark on my face.

Dark circles, bloodshot eyes, disheveled hair, and a caffeine addiction that has me shaking sporadically. I yawn unattractively, slapping my cheeks in a futile attempt to stay awake.

Between my own vivid nightmares and the living one that unfolds across my room each night. I yearn for the soothing rhythm of the ocean.

But instead, I trudge downstairs, past the moans of her calling his name in a loop. “Oh, baby! Yes. right… there Knox! Mmmm!” is the soundtrack to my mornings, while he remains silent.

I find myself flipping through papers on the table, surrounded by Sam, Tyson, my mom, and Miranda. all engrossed in a discussion about table centerpieces.

I’ve figured out his routine, his escape route after he’s done with her. I was lounging on the deck, my feet propped up on the railing, swirling my Jameson in its glass.

The ice cubes clinked against the sides before I took a generous sip. The back door slid open and slammed shut, pulling my attention. I twisted my neck to see him, and our eyes met.

He paused, our gazes locked in a silent exchange before he continued his path to the sand.

He glanced over his shoulder one last time, pulling his hood over his head before he took off down the beach, running. Fast. As if he was trying to outrun something.

I finished my drink and refilled my glass until I was on my fifth round and sleepiness started to creep in. I was drunk. Very drunk.

Now, Sam is cycling through every color of the rainbow for the flowers in the table centers. I’m sitting here, next to Tyson, trying to help our resident bridezilla.

I’m tired. I’m hungover. I’ve had three hours of fitful sleep. Terrified to sleep, yet dreading staying awake. It’s a lose–lose situation. I suffer in silence.

“Babe, I honestly don’t mind what flowers you pick,” Tyson tries to soothe my sister. The wedding is fast approaching and she’s in a frenzy, constantly changing plans.

She teeters on the edge of tears one moment and is ready to rip someone’s head off the next.

“I don’t know what colors I want… like do I get ones that match the bridesmaids‘ dresses?… or my favorite color?… or ones that will match the lighting I’ve chosen for our first dance? or should I let the florist decide?”

She huffs, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face. She looks like me. Exhausted. Mentally drained. Physically drained. Tyson had given up offering his opinion a month into the planning.

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It’s not that he doesn’t care, he just understands that Sam wants everything a certain way. She’s meticulous like that.

“Sweetie, maybe you should take a break for a little while. You look ti-” my mom gently interrupts her daughter’s spiral.

“Mom! I need to get this sorted or I will have more stuff to do! Ugh, I’m so indecisive-” Sam’s hands cradle her face, frustration seeping from her every pore. Her shoulders start to shake. She’s crying.

Tyson is by her side in an instant, comforting her. He’s crouched down in his sweatpants that are hanging low on his hips.

Hanging on for dear life, I might add. Tyson is well built, with a six–pack, bulging biceps, a V line, the works. Like every NFL player. He’s attractive, but modest about it.

He’s the kind of guy you find good–looking but wouldn’t act on it, like Hannah’s brother James.

His strong arms cradle his fiancé. She leans into him as he whispers ‘I love you‘ to her. Her sniffles become more frequent and she buries her head in the crook of his neck.

He kisses her temple and cheek, comforting her the best he can. It’s clear that he is so in love with her. My granddad always used to say there are three types of love a man possesses.

The ones who say love you‘.

The ones who tell you ‘I love you‘.

And the ones who are in love with you.

The last guy is the one you keep. Tyson tells Sam he loves her all the time. But we all know he’s been in love with her since the day he met her. She’s in love with him.

They’re so deeply in love with each other. It’s evident in their faces.

I remember how they met. It feels like it was just yesterday.

Knox had invited us girls to see the stadium. Sam, Hannah, Zara, and I all went to see it. We had our own personal tour of the stadium, private rooms, the players‘ locker room, the gym, and the nursing

station.

The tour guide then led us onto the field. As we walked out through the tunnel, we saw all the players running around, training.

Sam and Zara’s eyes sparkled with mischief, knowing we’d get to check out all the players.

As we stepped onto the soft grass, we were introduced to the coaching staff, physical therapists, and doctors, all ensuring the injured players were fit to train.

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The coach blew his whistle, beckoning the players to join us. I crossed my arms, watching as the muscular players made their way over to greet us.

Handshakes were exchanged, cheeks were kissed, and it was clear some of the players were checking us out. I heard a few high fives echo around the place as they took off their helmets.

Some of these guys were too attractive for their own good. Damn.

Sam and Zara were giggling, while Hannah looked star–struck. I sighed, hoping it would be over soon. I watched my sister shake hands with a particularly handsome guy.

His cheeks flushed pink as he smiled at her. She returned the smile, suddenly shy. She’s never shy. She’s the opposite of shy, so I couldn’t help but watch the two of them with curiosity.

“H–Hi, I’m Tyson,” he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. His helmet slips from his grasp, clattering to the ground. Sam is quick to retrieve it, offering it back to him with a shy

smile.

“H–Hi, I’m Sam. It’s nice to meet you! Here, you dropped this.”

“Oh, thanks. It’s nice to meet you too, Sam. Are you guys here for long?” His gaze remains fixed on her, and she seems equally captivated. I exchange a knowing glance with Hannah, who grins back at me.

“Well, we, uh, Knox arranged a tour for us, so we thought we’d come to see the field. We’ve seen everything else in the stadium…” Sam’s hands flutter to the ends of her hair, twirling a strand around her index finger.

She likes him. I can’t help but mentally high–five her. She only does that when she likes someone.

“How’d you know that idiot?” Tyson teases, glancing over at Knox. I can’t help but smirk. I like this guy. I approve, Sam. I approve.

“Well, he’s best friends with my younger brother-”

“Wait, you’re from New York?” Tyson interrupts, his eyes widening. Sam nods shyly, meeting his gaze

once more.

“Dude, aren’t you dating someone?” one of the other players chimes in, earning a glare from Tyson.

“No, I ended that. It was nothing serious.”

“Alright, alright, boys! Less flirting, more running. Come on, back to work! Sorry, ladies, we’re on a tight schedule,” the coach interrupts, blowing his whistle. The players scramble to retrieve their

helmets.

“Are you single?” The same player who questioned Tyson earlier now turns his attention to me, crossing

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his arms over his chest.

“Jason, drills… Now!” Knox roars at him, shooting me a glare. I return it with equal intensity.

“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath.

“Geez, I think someone’s on her period,” he retorts, referring to Knox, who is now storming over to

him.

“Shit! Gotta go, ladies, bye!” Jason picks up speed, sprinting back to the center of the field. We can’t help but laugh at his antics.

“So… um… do you have a… boyfriend?” Tyson stutters, turning his attention back to my sister. We all

watch with amusement as she shakes her head no.

Seeing his face light up with a smile, he continues, “Would you… um-”

“Miller! Get your ass running! Now!” The coach interrupts him. Tyson’s head snaps in his direction,

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