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The only thing it did was make me realize that one of the reasons I’m so obsessed with winning is because I want her to see it. I want to be so fucking successful that she can’t help but reach out, or at least regret giving me up. I want to be everywhere so she can’t turn around without seeing my face. It’s a little bit of spite, and a little bit of hope. I don’t know what I’d say to her if we met, but I doubt that’ll happen anyway. I’m captain, I won a World Cup, and I have billboards and sponsorships coming out of my ass. If she hasn’t reached out by now, she never will.”
It sounds creepy when I say it, but I just…I wanted to see what it looked like. What her life was like. I didn’t knock on her door, but I saw her come out with her husband and son. They were dressed up for dinner, and they looked…happy. She looked happy, as though she’d gotten the exact family she’d always dreamed of.
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Seth’s story didn’t add up. There was no way in hell Vincent would give his key to anyone except me and family after the intruder situation. Plus, he wouldn’t leave important items behind often enough to warrant giving the kit manager free access to his home. That wasn’t part of Seth’s job.
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