And to sign it “love”? No wonder I have no idea how to trust a man, or allow someone to see the most vulnerable parts of me. This is the love I was raised on.
Tears, hot and fierce, come streaming down my cheeks. I cry for the little girl who never received the love every child should have. I cry for the young woman who grew up without a mother, without the one person you’re supposed to be able to confide in. I cry that I was raised by an egomaniac, one who can’t even admit his own wrongs and the way he destroyed some people’s lives. I cry because my grandfather isn’t here to fix this for me. I cry because the one man who fell in love with me is the one I pushed away, out of fear and the responsibility of duty.
My phone rings and I drop the letter, as if someone is watching me do something I shouldn’t be.
But when I pick it up, I’m surprised at whose picture is flashing across the screen.
“Hello?” I say, in disbelief that Walker might actually be returning my calls.
“We won. Not that you’d know, since you aren’t here.” His tone is accusatory.
“I’m glad you won. On to game two.” My voice cracks even though I try to hold my composure.
My cousin’s frustrated sigh comes through the phone. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”
Picking at a dried spot of egg on the counter, left behind from my baking fiasco, I huff. “Me too. I could have really used your shoulder.”
There is silence, and I wonder if Walker is walking around the ballpark. Is he on the bus? Or maybe back at the hotel?
“Do you love him?” Walker asks, suspicion in his voice.
I shrug as if he can see me. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I broke things off. You were right, I was acting just like Jimmy.”
“Col, I was an ass for saying that. It wasn’t true at all. I’m sorry, I really am. I was just so hurt. The way you two looked, it was going on a while, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. It’s over now, though.” Just saying the words makes me want to break down all over again.
Walker breathes into the phone. “You sound sad.”
He knows me best, so he should know. “I am.”
It’s too much right now for me to tell him about Dad’s letter, and if I mention it, I think Walker will ask me to read it over the phone. Which I definitely can’t do. I’ll have him read it eventually, but just having consumed the words myself, it’s all too raw.
“Not that I think it’s a good idea, but if you really love the guy, you shouldn’t give it up. I told you once that you deserve happiness. If he makes you happy … I think you should be happy. With him. You could do worse, in terms of a boyfriend. Hayes is a decent guy, though I’m still going to kick his ass for not telling me.”
I roll my eyes. “Please, you’re not that tough. But thanks, Walker. I’m pretty sure we’re through; there isn’t a way it could work out without blowing up in our faces.”
“Maybe in the future,” Walker suggests.
The idea sparks in my head, but I refuse to let the hope bloom in my chest. I saw the look in Hayes’ eyes when he left. Hurt, disappointment, even a touch of scorn.
If I waited until it was completely acceptable for us to be together, it would be too late.
So I’ll do what I’ve always done. Push my personal life to the back burner, and focus on my career.
34
Hayes
We may have won two out of our first three games and be going home with the lead, but I can’t bring myself to feel much more than decent.
Because most days, I just feel like shit. Those two victories brought momentary relief, but once I stepped foot off the field, the misery was back like a storm cloud threatening never to dissipate.
I haven’t spoken to Colleen in five days, and it feels like an eternity. It’s funny that before I met her, before I fell in love the deepest I’ve ever felt the emotion, I was perfectly fine gliding through life alone. I didn’t depend on anyone or anything, and my emotions were in check, if not safe.
Loving that woman has shown me just how wild and chaotic the human heart can act. And now that I’ve done so, going back to the lifestyle I lived before seems damn near impossible.
Colleen took a chunk of me, not just my heart. Over the last few months, she’s gradually weaved her love, her conversation, and her kind of caring into my being. I miss the way she’d curl into me as we slept at night, or the shimmy of her hips as she’d dance to random radio songs making breakfast in the morning. I miss the sneaky, flirty glances she’d cast me across a crowded meeting room. I miss everything.
I can’t force her to confront her demons. She has to be the one to do so, and until then I guess I’ll just wait. It feels like everything in my life is hanging on a tightrope between two skyscrapers. My contract, the future of my career, my future with Colleen, the need to figure out how we could move forward if she does decide that she wants to do this.
Meanwhile, my heart, and my stomach, have been in a state of depression I’ve never encountered. I keep thinking, so this is what it feels like to truly break up with someone.
I’ve never, not even as an orphan who fantasized about his biological parents, felt this kind of pain from a loss. It’s sharp and jagged, nagging at my chest twenty-four hours of the day.
The email from Charlie containing the various contracts or offers being proposed sits in my inbox. I’ve barely skimmed it, too heartbroken and emotional to make a rational decision. Plus, part of me just doesn’t want to move on from this moment. If I take a step forward, it means I’m moving out of this phase, which includes Colleen.
Now that we’re through, it almost doesn’t make sense to stay here. It would be too painful, seeing her almost every day. And I wouldn’t dare trying to throw her off her game as general manager, she’s far too talented and good at her job for me to be a distraction.
I wish I could just show up, demand that she stop being so stubborn and let me in. I may have pushed her, but I wasn’t wrong. Since the first time we bumped into each other in that hallway, she was cowering in the shadow of her father’s mistakes. It’s time to walk out of that darkness, since I see it cloud her face at each mention of him.
She might think breaking things off is noble, that it saved us scandal and drama, but I’m not convinced. Because I feel like shit warmed over now that we’re not together. All of my happiest moments in the league, all the accomplishments and rings and feelings of being a champion combined can’t fill the gaping hole of Colleen in my life. That’s how I know she’s more important than anything.
Right now, I have no idea what my future holds. But there is a ticking clock counting down in the back of my head, like something out of Peter Pan. Eventually, it’s going to catch up to me, like that goddamn crocodile.
And if I haven’t made the right decision, whatever that may be, it’s going to swallow me whole.
35
Colleen
It’s been almost two weeks since I broke up with Hayes in my kitchen, and it’s not gotten easier when we accidentally bump into each other.