Lance noticed Brittany, but he didn't think she'd want to talk to him. She'd already lumped him in with Kelce and the others as "bad influences who led Mahomes astray." Clearly, she didn't want to hear him defending Mahomes—didn't even want to look at him.
So, Lance kept his distance, offering only a polite nod.
But then—
"…Lance."
Her voice broke the quiet of the early morning.
Lance stopped, puzzled. He saw Brittany's conflicted, hesitant expression, but in the end she gritted her teeth, lifted her head, and looked at him with the air of someone marching to her doom.
"Would you jog with me for a bit?"
Jog?
Lance had already finished his morning run, but since she'd asked, he waved her over. "Of course."
When she caught up, Lance adjusted his pace and continued on.
Brittany's mind wasn't on the run at all. After less than two hundred meters, her breathing turned ragged.
"Huff, huff… slower, slower," she gasped.
Lance blinked. "Slower? Then it's not jogging anymore—it's power walking."
Brittany shot him a glare. "Then walk."
Lance: …
Brittany: …
Even without speaking, Brittany could see his exasperation. She exploded. "Walk! We'll walk!"
Lance raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Let's just stroll. No need to get mad—I'm innocent here. It'd be a shame to hurt the flowers and grass."
Brittany nearly choked on her own breath. "Innocent? If it weren't for you, Patrick wouldn't have gone to those… places."
Lance didn't dodge. "Without me, do you think Patrick would never face temptation? Come on, Brittany, be realistic. You know what kind of things come to a pro athlete—he doesn't need to go looking. They'll come to him."
Brittany's chest rose and fell sharply. "You're just shifting the blame."
"Hey, if you want to blame me or anyone else on the team, go ahead. I don't care—I'm not here to please you. But if you think Patrick did nothing wrong, then why did you kick him out?"
"…I didn't."
"What?"
"I didn't kick him out. We had a huge fight, he packed up, and left. I never told him to go."
Lance froze. "…That idiot…"
He really didn't want to get involved—domestic disputes were a mess, and he had no interest in meddling in Mahomes' love life. But now…
Looking at Brittany, Lance sighed. He had no choice.
"If you're worried about him, why not give him a call?"
She turned away. "Who's worried? Not me."
"He's in hell right now," Lance said.
"Good. He deserves it." Still stubborn.
Lance just shook his head. No surprise—both of them were in their early twenties, childhood sweethearts who'd always had smooth sailing. Mahomes was already thinking about proposing. This was probably their first real relationship crisis.
He exhaled. Looked like he'd have to play kindergarten teacher.
"Brittany, the mistake has been made. Obsessing over the past won't help, and doing nothing won't help either. What matters now is how you deal with it.
"Honestly, I don't even think it's really a 'mistake' in the way you're seeing it. Maybe you should—"
"What? Not a mistake? What are you talking about?" She glared like she might bite.
"He texted with another woman. Kept her photos. For six months—no, almost a year!"
Lance sighed. If she was this fiery with him, he could only imagine her with Mahomes.
"Calm down, Brittany. Please."
His steady, earnest gaze made her glance away.
"I'm not defending him," Lance said. "But he didn't actually exchange messages—it was her sending them to him."
"But he didn't delete them, did he?"
"…Uh."
"He didn't reply, fine. But he didn't delete or block her either. Those photos stayed in his phone. You know what that means."
"I see," Lance said.
His quick acceptance caught her off guard. Her anger eased, just a little.
"I get your anger," Lance said. "But you're pushing Patrick away.
"No one wants to make mistakes. We all want to do the right thing—but no one's perfect.
"Mistakes suck. Trust me, I know. But what matters is facing them. Correcting them. Learning so you don't repeat them.
"If you think it's unforgivable, then end it quickly. Spare you both the pain.
"But if you still care, then face it and talk to him openly.
"A sorry won't fix everything, but it's a first step. Mistakes don't define people—how they face those mistakes does.
"I don't chase perfection. I chase getting back on track after I've gone off it."
His calm, steady words sank in. Brittany fell silent, chewing them over, lost in thought.
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Powerstones?
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