I will show him.
And the first step will be to tell Sebastian we are officially over.
Oliver
Surrounded by expired magazines, I sit in the waiting room, watched by a receptionist with glasses so thick, I’m surprised she can even see me.
My mind begins to wander to last night. Gabriella at the mercy of my touch. Every inch of her perfect body beneath me. The taste of her slick skin against the tip of my tongue. She’s everything I imagined her to be at that moment, if not, surpassing my every fantasy.
She begged me to take her in every way possible. To explore her body in ways I know no man had ever ventured to, and I did just that.
I know I was selfish, taking her rough like she’s mine, and I have to return her with the threat of never feeling her again. And perhaps, it warrants in some truth. By midnight, she left me alone, promising me with a single stare that what we shared meant more to her than her words could communicate.
I slept like a fucking baby after that.
Unlocking my phone, I look at the screen for the millionth time, it’s ten minutes past my appointment time, and Gabriella is nowhere in sight. I send her a text, asking how long she’ll be, and wait for her response. There’s nothing. So, I try to call, only to reach a dead end.
“Mr. Madden, Dr. Wheeler will see you now.”
I smile at the receptionist, hiding my disappointment and head toward the room staring one more time at my phone then the main door. Nothing. Reluctantly, I walk in and take a seat.
Dr. Wheeler begins by introducing himself, his credentials, and throws in a few jokes about Harvard Medical School. While his jokes appear to be a segue in getting me to calm the fuck down, I just need answers. My nerves are triggering, my knee bouncing beneath the large oak table. A small insect bite on my arm begins to irritate me, my fingers scratching repeatedly without any relief.
He speaks in great detail about my injury, talking me through the X-rays for what seems like forever. I try my best to concentrate. This is my fucking livelihood here, but my mind keeps wandering to Gabriella.
Where the fuck is she?
Dr. Wheeler recommends a specific surgery to correct my injury. He explains in great lengths what is involved and what the desired outcome should be.
I jump the gun, asking the burning question. “Doc, will I get to play again?”
Dr wheeler places his glasses on the table, giving me a reassuring smile. “Oliver, I feel confident that the surgery, combined with extensive rehabilitation which will include full rest and commitment to physical therapy, we can have you playing in eight to twelve months. Twelve months being the ideal time.”
I want to hug him, but at the same time, a part of me wanted to share this moment with Gabriella.
Where the hell is she?
This is the news I have been hoping for.
Flying across the world, searching desperately for answers. And to hear this? It means the world to me.
I will be back in the game.
“I understand your deadline and desperation to get back on the field. Now, normally I don’t do this type of surgery, but luckily, I’ve had a cancellation. I can operate in two weeks. It will be done at the University of Colorado Hospital. You’ll need to do the majority of your rehabilitation in the States. We can talk in greater detail if you’d like to be transferred to another state to continue that, then you’re free to go back to Australia.”
We called coach, telling him the news. I can hear the relief in his voice, and just like always, he warned me no mucking up, follow the doctor’s orders, and get off my arrogant arse and don’t push myself.
I’d spent another hour filling out paperwork, giving consent to the surgery until I’m done.
Saying goodbye to Dr. Wheeler, I linger in the waiting room to call Ma and Pa.
“Olly, that’s wonderful,” Ma cries over the speaker. “Pa and I will fly up to be with you. No arguing, okay?”
I nod, though they can’t see me. I’m stoked they’re coming. There is no chance in hell I could do this without them.
“That’s my boy! I told you to keep fightin’, didn’t I?” Pa cheers, proudly.
“You did, Pa. And I’m glad you guys are coming. I need it.”
We talk for a short while longer as I explain to them what’s involved and the rehabilitation process. Pa is over the moon, talking nonstop until I cut the call short, promising to call them with more details once my head wrapped itself around the enormity of this news.
Outside the office, still not moving from the pavement, I hit dial on Gabriella’s number, hearing it ring out to nothing. Again.
I even called Aubrey to see if she had heard from Gabriella.
“Sorry, no. Is everything okay, Olly?”
“I don’t know, Aubrey. I just… she said she’d be there. It’s unlike her to not show up or even answer my calls or text messages. I’m worried something’s happened, especially after last night.”
“Last night? What happened last night?”
I let out a loud sigh. “For another time, Aubs. Call me if you hear from her.”
I can hear the disappointment in her voice the second I say the words. Aubrey promised to call me back, doing her best to help me track Gabriella down. She’s equally as worried.
I wander the streets, unaware of how far I’ve walked around the city, lost in a sea of thoughts. Each block seems just as strange as the rest. And when I walk past a restaurant, carelessly staring at the patrons, something makes me stop dead in my tracks.
It’s Gabriella… I think.
She looks different with her hair in a tight bun, not her usual mess of curls. Her clothes are so unlike her—a pale pink suit with pearls.
What the fuck is this.
I shake my head, maybe my mind is playing tricks on me. This woman is not the Gabriella I know.
She’s sitting next to Prince Charming, his hand resting on hers and across from an older couple. The woman, blonde, looks a lot like her, and judging by the similarities, I would say it’s her parents.
I stare coldly through the glass window, my face has become rigid, jaw clamped tight, teeth grinding. Burning rage hissing through my body like deathly poison, screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence.
The humiliation runs deep within my veins, careful to consume every inch as a reminder of the mistakes I’ve made.
Tell me this is not real.
This is someone else, not the woman you’re in fucking love with.
She glances aside, her expression saddened at the sheer sight of me. I can’t pretend to even listen to any excuse she may conjure up. I begin to walk away, heart in my chest, the pain of seeing her there, with him, when she said she would be with me is too much to bear. It feels like shards of glass stabbing me in every fucking direction.
“Oliver, wait!”
I walk fast, each step fueled by resentment.
How dare she fucking do this to me.
Me of all people.
“Oliver, please.” Gabriella catches up to me, pulling my arm back, careless tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry.”