Chapter 2

Joe and I had been married five years. He was the team's most influential player, their biggest commercial asset.

And yet, five years in the NFL, five years as his invisible wife.

His teammates didn't know he was married. The fans thought he was single. Even the family section of his team media guide was blank.

...

Breakfast time. I was in the kitchen frying eggs when my phone rang on the coffee table.

Joe walked over and picked it up. "Housekeeping..."

I bolted out of the kitchen and snatched the phone from his hand. "The backyard pipe's broken. I booked a plumber to come check it."

Joe nodded, not a trace of suspicion. Of course—for five years, I'd handled everything in this house. Without me, he probably wouldn't even know which cabinet his socks were in.

"It's only because you're here that I feel at ease. Babe, I really can't do this without you." He wrapped his arms around me from behind, chin resting on my shoulder, nuzzling.

I used to melt into his affection. But now, where he couldn't see, my face went cold and distant.

Because I knew his affection was only temporary.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, he got a call from Natalie.

"Captain, my car broke down at the base entrance. I can't fix it alone."

Joe stood up, grabbed his keys. "Babe, I'll be right back."

"Mm."

He got to the door, then turned back. "Don't overthink it."

I smiled. "I know. I'm not overthinking anything."

He let out a relieved breath, like he'd gotten some kind of permission, and walked out without looking back.

That night, he didn't come home. And for once, I didn't call or text to ask where he was or when he'd be back.

I just quietly packed the clothes from the closet—four boxes—and shipped them ahead to another city.

The next day, Natalie showed up at my front door.

She was in her team nutritionist uniform, blonde hair in a sharp ponytail, a thermal bag in hand, smile sweet.

"Vivian, Joe said you haven't been eating properly." She flashed me her white teeth. "I made some nutrition meals, brought them over specially. Athletes' families need their energy too."

I took the thermal bag and looked at her. "Natalie, you don't have to put on this act."

Her smile froze for half a second, then snapped back. "Vivian, I don't know what you're talking about. You've got it wrong. Joe and I are just work. He's the captain, I'm the nutritionist, we—"

I cut her off. "Did I say anything about Joe?"

Her eyes narrowed, taunting.

I leaned against the doorframe, voice calm. "You travel together, always joined at the hip. You have family travel clearance. Your name is in his playbook. I went through his phone. Your chat history is longer than the conversations between him and me. He saved you as 'Lucky Four-Leaf Clover.'"

Natalie let out a snort of laughter. "Vivian, have you not been to the base in a while?" She raised a hand, jiggling the badge around her neck. "I did fill out the family travel application. And Joe allowed it. He said you don't like watching games anyway—the family box was just sitting empty."

She deliberately glanced past me into the house, her gaze landing on the expensive, hollow mansion behind me.

"Oh, right." She bent down and pulled a mug from the thermal bag. "This is Joe's mug, isn't it? I used it for my protein shake yesterday. He saw it and didn't say a word."

I stared at the mug.

It was the couples' mug we'd bought for our first anniversary. Now Natalie was holding it like a trophy.

"Vivian, don't be upset." She stepped up onto the porch, leaned in close, lowered her voice like she was comforting me. "After all, you can't travel with him for away games, you don't understand tactics, you don't know nutrition. Someone has to be by his side, right?"

I looked at her. "Natalie." My voice was soft. "Do you know why Joe never makes me public?"