by Whitney G.
Silence.
I stopped in front of a park bench and waited for her to sit down. I brushed off all the hostile words she’d said and faced her. “Are you a professional artist now?”
“I am.”
“Did you ever go to law school?”
She shook her head.
“Why not?”
“Because—” She forced a smile. “Because the man I thought I was in love with at the time helped me to see that my heart belonged in art. My art is in all the Rosy-gan cafes.” She continued. “And I own a few art galleries in this city. What about you? Did you ever go into the NFL?” She let out a fake laugh. “I’m kidding.”
“I’m aware.” I was resisting the urge to close the gap between us. "I didn't sleep with anyone for an entire year after you left me, Charlotte.”
Her eyes immediately met mine.
“I didn’t sleep with those models you mentioned either,” I said. “They were staged photo ops. I wanted people to think I was off-limits when I joined the league so I wouldn’t have any distractions. But also—” I mocked her tone. “Because I thought the woman I was in love with at the time was bound to come back to me or sooner or later.”
“She tried to.”
“You never called me once.”
“I called you plenty of times.” Her face turned red. “I called you every day for weeks and you never answered.” She shook her head. “You didn’t answer one time, Grayson.”
“Charlotte, that’s not true." I was confused. "I never got any calls from you."
“I always knew you would say that.” Tears fell down her face. “You’ve probably painted me as a bitch who just disappeared so you could play the sympathy card, huh? I bet doing that made you feel better about all the pain you put me through, and I bet you took pleasure in ignoring all one hundred and seventy-two of my calls and sixty-five of my text messages. Yes, I counted. And yes, seven years later or not, I will never, ever forgive you for that. Never, Grayson.”
She began to cry, leaving me speechless.
I had no idea what calls and texts she was talking about, but I didn’t question her memory. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her against my chest.
She didn’t say anything to me for the rest of the day, and when Central Park’s lampposts turned on, I pulled her up and walked her to my car. I didn’t bother peppering her with questions during the short drive, I simply helped up her brownstone’s steps and told her I’d like to see her again next Tuesday. Not a month from now.
“I’ll try,” she said, not looking at me.
It took everything in me not to go inside with her, but I made sure she locked her door and rushed back to my car.
“Call Kyle Stanton, please," I commanded my system once I pulled off onto the street.
“This better be important.” He answered with a groan. “It’s late.”
“I need you to confirm that I’m not crazy.” I switched lanes. “Like, as my best friend, you would’ve told me if I was a long time ago, right?”
“You’re beyond crazy and I did tell you that.” He laughed. “Multiple times.”
"I'm serious, Kyle."
“No, you’re not crazy.” He cleared his throat. “But if this call is about Charlotte Taylor, I’m not drunk enough to deal with that right now. Try me tomorrow night.”
“Something isn’t adding up,” I said. “Charlotte is claiming that she called me for months. And that I was the one ignoring her, not vice versa.”
“Right...So, on a scale of one to ten, how likely is it that you can just let her go at this point?” he asked. “He said vs. she said never ends well for anyone, especially when one person is lying. She’s lying to you, man.”
“She’s not lying.” I knew she wasn’t by the way she’d acted today, and I knew I needed to figure this out before she changed her mind about us meeting again. “Walk me through everything I told you about the end of our senior year again.”
“Right now, Grayson?”
“Right now.”
CHARLOTTE: THEN
Seven years ago
Pittsburgh
SUBJECT: HEY.
Did you forget about our date today?
—Charlotte
SUBJECT: WHERE ARE you?
I’m sitting in Highland Coffee waiting for you. Are you still coming?
—Charlotte
SUBJECT: CALL ME LATER :)
It’s been an hour and you still haven’t shown up or responded, so I guess you’re still in that meeting.
Call me later.
—Charlotte
I SIPPED THE LAST OF my latte and left the café. Ever since Grayson signed with Anna, his schedule became packed with endless advice sessions, training preparation, and mock media interviews. Our alone-time was now relegated to Tuesday night coffee sessions, the occasional date, and late-night talks whenever he finished his day.
He was unable to pick me up for classes in the mornings, but he let me drive his car since the campus police always let me out of speeding offenses whenever they realized it was his car. And even though he couldn’t hang out with me as much, he made it a point to have flowers and donuts delivered to my dorm a few times a week with sweet notes. He insisted that I “didn’t need to worry,” and to be honest, I didn’t. I was happy he was getting everything he deserved, and I was looking forward to seeing his hard work pay off.
Checking my phone one last time to see if he’d responded, I crossed the street and headed toward the law library. When I approached the student union crosswalk, I saw Grayson through the bookstore windows.
Looking exasperated, he sat across from Anna and spoke as she typed on her keyboard. Mid-sentence, he leaned back in his chair and waved to someone I couldn’t see.
Seconds later, a blonde walked over to him and smiled. She took a seat next to him and rubbed his shoulder—whispering something into his ear. She managed to get three seconds of words out before he grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand away.
I wasn’t the best lip reader, but I could definitely make out his annoyed “Don’t fucking touch me like that. You know I have a girlfriend.”
I laughed and called Anna’s phone, watching as she held it up to her ear.
“Hey Charlotte!” she said. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, thank you. Are you with Grayson?”
“I am,” she said. “Hold on.” She handed the phone to him and mouthed, “It’s Charlotte.”
“Hey,” he said. “I apologize in advance if you’ve called or texted me today. I left my phone in Kyle’s car at lunch, and he’s still downtown.”
“I figured there was a good reason. Did you forget about our date today?”
His face fell. “I did...I’m sorry, Charlotte. Where are you right now?”
“Across the street.”
He looked out the window and ended the call, returning Anna’s phone. He grabbed his jacket and left the café, walking over to me.
“I’m so sorry.” He wrapped his arms around my waist. “Let me make this up to you.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”
“I do.” He kissed my forehead. “I feel like we’ve been off a bit lately and I don’t want you getting ideas.”
“Ideas about what?”
“Us not being together when I go to the league. Tell me three things I can do this week to make tonight up to you.”
I smiled. “You can watch a Friends marathon with me at your place over donuts and coffee.”
“Can you try to pick something a little less painful?”
“Nope.” I laughed. “You can also let me paint you this weekend. Oh, and you can give me a massage—with my clothes on.”
“Why do your clothes need to be on?”
“Because every time you give me a naked massage, you flip my body over halfway through it and fuck me.”
“Okay.” He let go of my waist and clasped my hand. “I’ll wait until after I’m done with the massage this time. Let’s d
o that option first.”
CHARLOTTE: THEN
Seven years ago
Pittsburgh
“BE STILL,” I SAID, pointing my brush at Grayson a few days later. “I can’t finish painting your portrait if you’re moving.”
“I’ve been sitting still for three hours.”
“No, you’ve been sitting still for one hour.” I smiled. “You spent the first two hours taking phone calls.”
“Noted.” He walked over to me and kissed my cheek. “I want you to come with me to the marketing session with Anna tonight. I promise I’ll sit here for as long as you want me to when we get back.”
“You can’t bring me to every business meeting, Grayson.”
“Does that mean you’re not coming?”
“I am coming.” I locked my brush into its box. “But I think you need to find some new people to add to your ‘cabinet’ since I won’t be able to go to all these meetings with you when I’m at Stanford.”
“You can if I buy the plane tickets.” He kissed me. “You can also fly with me this weekend to New York if you like.”
I couldn't help but laugh. This was Grayson's tenth time asking me to join him in New York for a weekend of workout sessions. Since New York's team held the first choice in the draft and was in desperate need of a quarterback, him landing there for his first season was a foregone conclusion.
“I need you to be as focused as possible when you’re there,” I said. “Speaking of which, I made you something for your future condo.” I pulled a pink box from under my bed and handed it to him.
“More donuts?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Open it.”
He untied the satin ribbon and pulled the top off the box. He pulled out a smaller box and tore off the pink tissue paper.
"Coffee mugs." He ran his finger across the blue and gray sentences on the back side and read them aloud. They were all quotes that gave a timeline of our relationship—everything from, "Are you, Charlotte Taylor?" "You still haven't given me your phone number," and, "I think I'm falling in love with you."
On the front of the mug were the words, “Yes, I’m that good” in huge bold print, with a small black and white picture of him kissing me stamped within the two “O” letters.
He remained silent for a long time.
“I know this gift is super simple.” I got the sudden feeling the wasn’t as enthused about these as me. “But since you and Kyle never had any actual coffee mugs in your apartment and we always had to use red cups, I thought this would be a good idea. Especially now that you drink coffee as much as I do.”
He set the box on the dresser and then he stared at me.
“You could at least say something,” I said. “I hand-painted each letter onto those and it took me twenty drafts to get them right.”
He still didn’t say anything.
“Well, fine.” I crossed my arms. “I’ll send you off to New York with a box of donuts and maybe—” My sentence ended on his lips.
“I fucking love you, Charlotte.”
CHARLOTTE: THEN
Seven years ago
Pittsburgh
SUBJECT: AWARDS DINNER
Charlotte,
My NY flight won’t land in time for me to make it to your Student of the Year dinner. I’ll have to make tonight up to you somehow. (I will. Trust me.)
Love you,
Grayson
PS—Did you get the flowers I sent today?
SUBJECT: RE: AWARDS Dinner
Grayson,
It’s more than okay. The program for tonight’s ceremony looks like it will be a snore-fest anyway. I have no doubt you’ll make it up to me. (You always do)
Love you more,
Charlotte
PS—Yes. They were beautiful. All ten bouquets. Thank you so much.
SUBJECT: FOUND A CONDO + My Final Lit Grades
Charlotte,
I just found a beautiful penthouse suite and I think you'll like it. I'm attaching the pictures, but I won't buy it unless A) You approve and B) You promise to see it in person on draft-night. Let me know what you think.
Love you,
Grayson
PS—I forgot to tell you about my final grades since I took all my final exams extremely early. All As.
I guess I had a pretty good tutor :)
SUBJECT: RE: FOUND a Condo + My Final Lit Grades
Grayson,
OH. MY. GOD! That’s one condo? It’s huge! And I LOVE IT! A) I approve. B) I’ll definitely be there with you on draft night.
Love you,
Charlotte
PS—Congratulations on making all As.
I know you had a pretty good tutor. (But I also know that you didn’t really need one...you would have made all A’s anyway. : ) )
SUBJECT: YOU’RE ON TV (again :))
Grayson,
I just watched your “Rookies to Watch” interview on ESPN. (It looked like you didn’t like the reporter, though. Something wrong?)
I love the way you look in a suit. (Love you)
Charlotte
SUBJECT: RE: YOU’RE on TV (again :))
Charlotte,
Good to know you were watching. (She was flirting with me before the cameras rolled.)
Thank you. (Love you too)
Grayson
SUBJECT: YOU LOOK SEXY as hell right now.
I’m watching Pitt’s graduation via Skype at the training combine and the camera just showed your face.
Call me when you’re free tonight,
Grayson
SUBJECT: RE: YOU LOOK sexy as hell right now.
Sorry, I just saw this. My phone died after the third speech.
Thank you, though. :)
I called you a few times, but I’m sure you’re exhausted. I’ll call tomorrow.
Charlotte
Subject: Question (It’s Personal)
Nadira,
I feel like me and Grayson only email and text these days...
If this is what it’s like before he even gets drafted, do you think we should take a break when he goes to the NFL?
—Charlotte
SUBJECT: RE: QUESTION (It’s Personal)
Charlotte,
I’m sitting at a table at the Buca di Beppo in Station Square with Eric, Kyle, and a few other people you know. We're all here waiting for you and him to walk through the doors because he's supposed to “surprise" you with some "make up” dinner tonight. (You should probably make sure you get dressed since he’s on his way to pick you up right now + I never told you this LOL)
I think it’ll be a bit of a transition-phase for you two when he goes to the NFL, but I do not doubt that he'll do his best to make it work. (He smiles every time someone says your name.)
Nadira
PS—They say he's probably going to net $20M in endorsements alone once he gets drafted. Please make sure he installs a bar in his condo, and please invite me over every weekend once it's complete.
THE DAY AFTER GRAYSON surprised me with dinner at Station Square, he helped me make sure all my things were ready to be shipped to California.
He kissed me in the backseat of a cab when it was time for him to return to New York, and made me promise to call him when I made it Stanford the next day.
I called him the second I landed and got his voice mail.
He didn’t call me back until days later and our conversation was only five minutes. When we spoke again, it was a week later and we only had time to say, “I love you.”
And by the time I finished setting up my apartment for my first full semester, I realized we’d gone two weeks without any communication.
GRAYSON: THEN
Seven years ago
New York City
I WAS BEGINNING TO think that I should've spent my summer in California with Charlotte instead of preparing for a new life that was already annoying the hell out of me. I had yet to play a single minute in the NFL, had yet to get drafted, but my days were still filled with never
-ending meetings.
There were endorsement offers from every footwear company, interviews with radio stations and podcasts, and nightly networking events that made me long for the days when I had enjoyable conversations. I was questioning everything I once thought about becoming a professional football player, and the only thing I was sure about was guaranteeing that I never lost Charlotte.
“You look pretty miserable for a future multi-millionaire.” Kyle set his menu down and looked at me. “I’m not sure this is how I want to remember you before we get drafted.” He waved his hand in front of my face. “Are you even listening to me, Grayson?”
“Charlotte will say yes, right?” I looked up at him. “Tell me I shouldn’t be nervous about proposing to her on live television.”
“Nervous? No.” He pulled the ring box from his pocket and handed it to me. “There’s another term I would use to describe you using your draft moment for a proposal.”
“I don’t want to know what you mean by that.”
“You definitely don’t.” He laughed. “But out of all the guys I know, I think you’re the only one who could honestly commit to one girl. Even though you’re young as hell, weeks away from being a multi-millionaire who could get pussy delivered to your doorstep, and—”
“Thank you, Kyle.” I interrupted him. “I appreciate your thoughts as always.”
“You’re more than welcome.” He laughed, then gave me a reassuring look. “Don’t worry, though. I don’t see any reason why she would say no.”
CHARLOTTE: THEN
Seven years ago
California
SUBJECT: NEW ADDRESS