The Baller’s Hidden Son

HEIDI’S POV

I pressed my fingers deeper into the knotted muscle of Jace Stanford’s thigh. His jaw tightened, and immediately his mood shifted. “Does it hurt?” I asked.

He replied, almost sounding like a whisper. “No.”

I looked up at him, refusing to look away. “You’re lying.”

Those dark eyes of his met mine, he tried to smile and force a reply. “I said it doesn’t hurt.”

“And I said you’re lying. I can feel how tight it is, Jace. You don’t get to pretend with me.”

For a second I didn’t say anything, neither did he. His eyes studied mine cautiously. Outside, thousands of fans were still celebrating him, the hero who had scored the winning goal in the final minutes.

Their chants shook the walls, mixed with the distant thud of music and reporters shouting his name.

By morning his face would be everywhere. But sitting here in nothing but football shorts and a half-zipped training jacket, was my husband, and no one could ever know.

I pressed my thumb carefully against the injured spot again. His expression barely changed, yet his fingers curled hard against the edge of the examination table.

“There,” I said quietly. “That’s the place. You almost went down back there.”

“I didn’t collapse,” he argued immediately.

“You leaned against the wall for thirty full seconds. That wasn’t catching your breath, Jace. You were in pain."

His eyes narrowed. “You always have to argue with me, don’t you?”

“I only argue because you keep trying to convince everyone, including me, that you’re invincible. You’re not, at least not tonight.”

“I don’t need to convince anyone.”

“Especially not me?” I arched a brow, his gaze shifted between us subtly.

It has been three years of learning every change in him, the tightening around his eyes only appeared when he was irritated. Whenever his shoulders stiffened, it meant something cut deeper than he wanted it to.

The barely-there twitch at the corner of his mouth was when he fought a smile. And this look that always reminded me that beneath the football star and the cold reputation, Jace was still my husband.

I looked away first, my heart beating too fast. “I’m going to tape it before you leave.”

“I don’t need it.” Jace quickly protested.

“You do. Unless you want to spend the next week on the bench, you’re going to let me do my job.”

He held my stare a while, feeling defeated before he then extended his leg with a quiet sigh. “Fine.”

That was as close to cooperation as I would get. I reached for the medical tape and began wrapping, trying not to notice the warmth of his skin or the way my pulse still raced from the intensity of his eyes.

The door opened before I finished. Daniel stuck his head in, grinning. “There you are. Jace, the press is looking for you. And the coach said to get that checked properly.”

“Heidi already did.” he replied to Daniel.

Daniel’s gaze moved between us. “Good. Then we’re stealing you for the celebration.” He disappeared before Jace could answer.

I secured the last strip of tape and stood. “You’re done.”

“Thank you.” He simply said without any sugar coating. And when Jace said we should be professional outside, he really meant it..

He picked up his phone and wallet. I watched him head for the door, then spoke before I could stop myself.

“Jace.”

He stopped immediately.

I stared at his face, my mind already speaking before I could. I wanted to congratulate him, tell him how proud I was and how terrified I was when he got hurt. But after years of pretending, none of the words felt safe to say. In reality, right here in the field, I was nothing more than his physiotherapist.

So I settled for the words that wouldn’t give everything away. “Don’t push yourself tonight. Please.”

He looked over his shoulder and kept a brief reply. “I won’t.”

Then he left. I stood alone in the medical room, closed my fingers around the wedding ring hidden on the chain beneath my shirt. I never wore it on my finger. No one could know, not his teammates, not his manager, not the fans, and especially not the press.

Three years ago we had made a deal. A marriage built on an exchange. Nothing more.

~~~~~~~

By the time I let myself into his apartment it was almost midnight. The place was dark except for the lights spilling through the enormous glass windows. I slipped off my shoes quietly.

This apartment had never felt like home. It was his furniture, his photographs, his trophies, his life. I was simply the woman who happened to sleep in the second bedroom. I had learned a long time ago not to expect anything else.

The sound of running water stopped me. A moment later Jace appeared in a black T-shirt and gray sweatpants, damp hair pushed back from his forehead. His eyes found me immediately.

“You’re still awake?”

“I work for you, remember?”

His expression hardened slightly. “I meant you should be sleeping.”

“I wanted to make sure you took your medication. You said you would last night and then took it three hours late.”

He sighed. “Heidi.”

I crossed my arms, standing my ground in the soft kitchen light. “You have another match in four days. Your thigh needs real rest. Stop acting like the injury isn’t there.”

His eyes held mine for several long seconds before he walked past me into the kitchen. I followed and held out the tablets. He took them from my palm without another word, swallowed them with water, then set the glass down.

“Happy?”

“Very.” I retorted sharply. I stared at the marble counter because looking at him too long always made me feel things I had no right to feel.

Three years of being married to this man and loving him in complete silence. Three years of reminding myself I was paid to be here. He had needed a wife on paper, and I had needed tuition money. It was supposed to stay that simple.

“I’ll be leaving early tomorrow,” he said at last.

“For training?”

“Yes. You don’t need to come. I’ll have Daniel arrange another physio.”

The words struck hard. I stared at him confusedly. “Why?”

His expression didn’t change. “Maya is coming tomorrow.”

Everything inside me went still. “Maya?”

He looked away toward the windows. “My girlfriend.”

I already knew who she was. Everyone did. Maya Carter had once stood beside him at every award ceremony, every charity event, every important match. She had been his first love, his girlfriend and the woman the public expected him to marry—until she disappeared three years ago, right around the time Jace married me.

I swallowed the sudden tightness in my throat. “She came back?”

“Yes. This afternoon.”

I forced a small smile that felt brittle. “That must be nice for you.”

Jace studied me for a moment, something I couldn't phantom moving behind his eyes. “Is it?”

I didn’t understand the question, and before I could ask, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen. The change was noticeable, the coldness in his eyes had disappeared, and when he answered his voice was different.

“Hello? … I thought you were never coming back.”

I looked away, heart sinking, but I still heard every word.

“When did you arrive? … I’ll come and get you.”

His lips curved into the faintest smile. I had never seen him smile like that at me. Not once in three years. He ended the call, then he turned, his facial expression carefully blank again.

“Maya?” I asked, even though I already knew.

“Yes.”

I nodded slowly. “Of course.”

I started toward the hallway. His voice stopped me. “Heidi. Don’t make this difficult.”

I looked over sharply, something inside me cracked open. “I haven’t said anything.”

“I know. But our arrangement hasn’t changed. This marriage was always temporary. You know that.”

My chest tightened until it hurt. “I know, Jace.”

He didn’t answer. I smiled and greeted him goodnight before turning away. I walked into my room and closed the door. Only then did I let the smile disappear. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the chain from beneath my shirt. The wedding ring rested against my palm coldly.

Three years ago, I had believed that wearing this ring meant I had become Jace Stanford’s wife. Tonight, for the first time, I wondered if I had simply been fooling myself the entire time.

Because his first love had returned, and from the way his voice had softened when he heard hers, I already knew exactly who he had been waiting for, and it had never been me.