(Hannah)I see him before Elijah does. Small mercy.He's standing on the wrong sideline, the away side, where the other team's parents have given him a wide berth.He was intimidating at eighteen. That hasn’t been diluted over the years, it’s been concentrated.His folding chair is still creased from its packaging.He’s holding a travel mug, presumably filled with coffee.No driver, no suit, no assistant trailing him.I doubt he’s ever done anything like this.Just Chase Warren, alone, on a Saturday, at a kids' soccer game, in a chair he clearly bought on his way here.I'd braced for a circus when he found out about Elijah.I know the legacy he comes from and how much money he has.Somehow this is worse.This is a man trying.I didn’t want Elijah growing up to be an entitled, spoiled, billionaire princeling.I didn’t want him to have a father who knew about him and barely acknowledged his existence.Now it appears I was wrong about everything and I deserve the scornful fury Elijah’s b
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