by Ella Fields
I was eyeing her bathroom with envy—not that it was state of the art, but it was a huge step up from the communal bathroom in the dorms—when I heard her say goodbye, giggle, say goodbye again, and then her footsteps behind me.
“You guys are back together, I take it?”
“We are,” she said, relief and something akin to happiness in her voice.
“That’s good.” I sighed, turning around and following her back into the living room.
“Wanna tell me all of what happened yet?”
I didn’t know if I could, or if I wanted to, but looking into her green eyes as she settled cross-legged on the couch next to me, I didn’t find a trace of malice or curiosity. Only concern. Which had me reaching for the tissues again as I told her everything.
And I mean everything. From the time I first met Callum, to our runaway wedding, to the trouble I had letting go when we started college. The doubts, fights, and what happened with Mike. Or what had supposedly happened with Mike. And then I told her what’d transpired since.
The cussing she let loose was so colorful, I snort-laughed, blubbering into a scrunched ball of tissues.
The moon had appeared, shining alongside the stars through the opened curtains. Pippa stared at me a long while, her mouth opening and closing. “I … well, shit.”
“I know,” I said, swiping my nose. “It’s all too …” I thought of a word to describe it, but all that came to mind was, “Too much.”
“I’ll say,” she said, then took my hand in hers. “I like Callum, but he’s a dick, and there’s no excusing that. And married? Holy ever-loving hell.”
“You can’t tell anyone about that,” I said, panic bubbling when I realized I’d said those words out loud to someone new. Regardless of whether I thought I could trust her, it still terrified me after keeping them locked inside for so long.
Pippa gave me the kind of stink eye that said she was offended I’d even had to say that.
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“Still,” she said, a hesitant lilt to her voice now. “He acted out thinking you’d, well, had sex, or at the very least, messed around with another guy.”
A pitiful sound left me. “But I did. I kissed him, and I don’t know, the details are murky, but I know there was some touching on his part.”
Pippa’s lips thinned in response. “Mike took advantage.”
He had, but I’d never pin the blame solely on him. “I messed up, but shit, I never thought I’d do something like that.”
“You were drunk, Callum kept hurting you, and it seems like somehow you knew,” she said, her voice softening. “You knew that you would’ve only taken it so far. You just got too plastered to remember how far that was.”
My hands scrubbed over my face, fingers coming away with black smudges from my mascara. “Do you know how horrifying that is? Having no memory of something? Have you ever been that drunk?”
Of course, she hadn’t. Which was confirmed with a small jerk of her head. “It’d freak me out, though. For sure.”
“Yep,” I said, my lips cracking around the word.
We sat in silence a long while, listening to the quiet strain of her TV playing the DVD menu.
“But your roommate giving him a blow job,” Pippa eventually said, followed by a guffaw. “I can’t even with that.”
“Uh-huh.” Flinging myself back into the soft, worn couch, I looked around her living room as a sigh slowly eased the tension from my shoulders. “I need a place of my own. Stat.”
Pippa hummed, and when I looked over at her, a mischievous twinkle filled her green orbs. She leaned forward a little, eyeing me up and down. “How do you feel about cleanliness?”
I tried to listen as Coach bellowed orders at us while my mind unraveled and my head pounded.
The sleepless nights started in Beijing, and they’d followed me back home. The office there was air tight, and I wasn’t sure what my father even wanted me to look out for. It was hard to get involved in anything when I was their designated coffee and lunch collector, relegated the lowliest of tasks.
For three months, I did as I was told, keeping my mouth shut and my ears and eyes open. I was looked upon with no suspicion, only impatience. My best guess was that no one wanted one of the CEO’s kids running around, reporting on their business.
Yet that was what I did. Much to my father’s satisfaction. I’d told him anything and everything I thought might be useful from the sidelong glances that lasted too long to the locked room on the top floor of the sky-high building. I had no idea if any of it would prove helpful, but my father seemed grateful for any detail and had told me to keep it up.
Then one day, before he hung up the phone, he decided to leave me reeling.
There’d be another wedding, and all was going ahead for next summer.
Renee continued to dodge my calls, and maybe it was for the best. How could I ask or even think another chance might work when so much baggage and destruction created a chasm between us? After all the shit I’d put her through?
It killed me that despite all that, I still longed for another chance. For her.
But longing leads to misery, and she’d suffered enough. So I kept my head down, trained, studied, and all the while, I quietly hoped that something might help us or provide an answer.
“Let’s go,” Coach yelled.
We all got up, stretching and jogging slowly out of the locker room, through the small tunnel, and out onto the sidelines of the illuminated field.
“You good?” Quinn asked, nudging me as he stopped beside me and stretched his hamstrings.
Blowing out a breath, I glanced up at the grandstands, which were already full, and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Quinn gave a nod of his own, turning to Ed to run through the game plan.
I looked across the field to our opponents, then glanced around. The Christmas wreaths, tinsel, and lights a reminder that in a week’s time, we’d all be going home for Christmas break.
The wind screamed through the tunnel, whistling and causing goose bumps to rise on my bare arms. I pulled my helmet on, jogging on the spot until we all gathered into a huddle.
“Ax ’em,” left our mouths on a hoarse yell, adrenaline ratcheting higher as the stadium roared the same words.
Running into position, I shook my head. My feet shifted, hands clenched and unclenched at my sides until the whistle blew, and we were off.
My father could say what he wanted about football not being a sound career choice, especially when I had a company worth billions for the taking. And he was right, but nothing could chase your feelings, your thoughts, or your frustrations away quite like the scent of perspiration, the sound of teamwork, or the feeling of your heartbeat vibrating through every limb as you pushed your body, your mind, into hyper focus. Together, we became something much bigger than ourselves. We were a collaboration of dreams and hope, leaving self-fulfillment behind for something greater as we all worked together in unison to achieve a combined goal.
Win.
And if you didn’t, you damn well knew you gave it your all trying.
My breath plumed in front of me as I gunned through the offensive line.
I was taken down, the wind sailing out of me, and my helmet flying with the impact.
Opening my eyes, the pounding in my head intensified as I tried to make out the blobs standing over me. Before my vision cleared, the pain registered, and instinctively, I grabbed my arm.
What felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes later, the blobs morphed into faces, and a guttural sound left me as I was maneuvered onto a hard stretcher and carted away from the field.
An incessant beeping reached inside my subconscious, forcing my eyes open against the sharp light. I shut them, wincing as I tried to make out where I was and why I felt like I’d smoked too many joints after drinking too many beers.
The sound of movement had my head snapping over to my left. Too fast. My head swam for a moment.
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Green eyes stared at me. A pink lip slipped between a set of straight white teeth.
“Mouse,” I croaked, a lopsided smile lifting my lips.
When all she did was stare at me, I tried to sit up, and then she moved, rising from her chair to gently push at my chest. “Don’t move too much just yet.”
I laid back down, still smiling up at her beautiful face. “I think I know why they call them dreams.”
“Callum,” she warned softly. “You’re on a pretty high dose of morphine.”
That would explain the groggy feeling. Ignoring her, I continued, “Because in your dreams, everything and anything is possible. And in mine, you’re with me. Always with me.”
Renee blinked, smiling a smile so sad that I wanted to remove it from her face and demand her to try again. It didn’t belong there. No sad smiles belonged on a face like that. I tried, and then pain scorched a hot trail of fire through my arm.
She tsked, carefully pushing my casted arm back into its sling.
“What happened?”
“The game. Apparently, you were taken down pretty hard.” Her lips thinned as she looked at the cast over my lower left arm, then they parted as her gaze met mine. “Fractured ulna,” she said, gesturing to the bottom of my arm without touching it. “The doctor said it was a clean break, so no surgery, but you’ll be in one of these bad boys for a while.”
I swallowed, dragging my eyes from the white covering my arm. Worry gnawed at my conscience at the concern etching Renee’s brows into a tight line. “It’s okay,” I told her.
Another sad smile. “As I said, morphine. But yes”—she nodded, a slight breath drifting through those bow-shaped lips—“you’ll be fine for next season.”
“Oh,” I exhaled, as it registered with the force of a sledgehammer to the gut. “Right.” I swallowed again, and Renee left my side. Panic made me say, “Don’t …”
She merely pointed at the water pitcher, then poured me a glass. Registering the beeping monitor, I tried to slow my heartrate down. “Here,” she said, propping another pillow behind my head, then placing the plastic cup in my right hand.
I sipped, inhaling her peachy scent as she leaned away and took a seat on the chair in the corner of the room.
Yes, I’d fucked everything up and was undeserving, but it was still there. The concern brimming in her gaze. Everything she felt remained right there, hidden, but only partially. The subtle tilt to her chin. Her limbs, usually graceful, now stiff and careful, much like her words.
She was still mine, and if we weren’t capable of letting go, then it was time I cut the bullshit and did something about it.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said, lowering the empty cup to my lap.
She stared down at the ground, then looked out the window behind my bed. “They called me once you arrived in the ER because I’m still listed as your emergency contact. So I’m assuming you never did file for divorce.”
“I did, but I changed my mind.” Lips twisting, I murmured, “Does that upset you?”
She didn’t answer but drew in a long breath, gaze still glued to the window.
I tried to think of something to say. Anything to stop her from leaving or saying something I didn’t want to hear. “The team? Did they win?” I remembered the lead up to the game, the ambulance doors closing before I was administered enough drugs to pass out, but everything else was stained with fog.
Renee shrugged. “Not sure, but most of them are downstairs. I could find out if you like?”
“No,” I said, not wanting her to leave.
I stared at her, the way her eyes shifted over everything in the room to avoid looking at me. Her pink jacket was draped behind her over the back of her chair. Her long-sleeved brown dress resting over her black legging covered thighs in elegant ripples.
“Your hair is up,” I said, noting the messy bun. She only ever wore her hair up if she was extremely hot, or if she was extremely stressed out.
“So it is,” she murmured, eyes finally connecting with my own.
My chest heaved as I watched her lashes lower and rise over her green eyes. “We’re getting married again, did you know?”
Laughing a shocked laugh, she bit her lip, looking down at her brown boots. “About that …”
“Knock, knock.” A nurse appeared at the door, a friendly smile on her round face. “You’re awake.”
She walked into the room, checking things on the monitors around me and taking notes. After squirting some hand sanitizer onto her hands, she came over to the side of the bed with a thermometer at the ready.
“I’ll just wait outside,” Renee said.
The nurse clucked her tongue, lifting my uninjured arm to stick the cold device in my armpit. “No need for that, just doing some checks. But it is getting late and you’ll want to be back in the morning when the doctor does his rounds.” She peered at Renee over her shoulder. “You know, to discuss things.”
Renee sat back down. “Things?”
I quirked a brow at the nurse, and she grinned. “How you’d leave any room this man is in is beyond me.”
Renee scoffed. “Don’t let him charm you. He’s a serial flirt.”
“She’s a liar.” I winked. “And she’s probably going to kick up a stink about caring for me.”
“What?” Renee choked out.
The nurse spun around, her sneakers squeaking over the floor. “You’re his wife, no?”
Renee laughed nervously. “It’s a long—”
“He will need someone to take him home and help him in the first week or so. The doctor won’t discharge him if he doesn’t think he’ll be provided with adequate support after an injury like this.”
“Right,” Renee said dryly, her arms crossing beneath her beautiful tits as she narrowed an eye at me. “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”
Seemingly appeased, the nurse gave me a wink of her own before checking the beeping thermometer. She left a minute later, the door clicking shut behind her.
“Well played, husband.”
At my affronted look, Renee rolled her eyes. Chuckling, I settled back into the mound of pillows, eyes closing against my will. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, wife.”
He looked so angelic when he slept. As if nothing and no one could touch whatever flitted through his mind to disrupt the peace that’d settled over his face.
My heart still thumped wildly in my chest when I remembered the voice on the other end of the phone line, telling me there’d been an accident, and that my husband was in the ER.
I’d raced over to the university hospital, uncaring if I got my first ever speeding ticket.
Some things had a way of making you forget the aches and pains you’d been harboring. In an instant, they were forgotten, replaced by urgency and soul-trembling fear.
Now that I could see with my own eyes that he was okay, that he would be okay, at least physically, the fear vacated, making room for those aches and pains to resurface one bruising memory at a time.
“Hey,” a voice sounded at the door.
I looked over, finding Daisy with Pippa peeking over her shoulder.
“We snuck in,” Daisy said on a loud whisper.
Pippa rolled her eyes. “He’s on the ward, visiting hours are only just ending.”
Daisy looked like her plans had been crushed but came in when I offered a small smile, Pippa following. They both stood by the wall, eyes on Callum as I rose from the chair, my muscles protesting at the sudden movement.
“How is he?” Pippa asked.
“Flirting with the nurse and already making demands of me.”
Daisy giggled, smothering it with her hand as Callum shifted. “He’s fine, then.”
Her face sobered as she looked down at me, almost half a head taller than I was. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” I asked, yawning.
Pippa mumbled what sounded like, “Here we go.”
“For you know.” Daisy gestured to Callum. �
�I didn’t know he was married.”
I laughed softly. “No one did. Don’t sweat it.”
“But I … we, you know.”
“You kissed him?” My gaze shot to hers, and her wide brown eyes had me fighting back another laugh. “He’s done worse than that since we separated, and …” I looked at Pippa briefly, who smiled. “You didn’t know me, or even know about me.”
Daisy’s shoulders fell with obvious relief. “Still, I’m sorry.”
When I nodded, Pippa asked, “So his arm is broken?”
“Yeah,” I said. I’d filled everyone in when I went downstairs earlier. “He’ll be out for the rest of the season, which I don’t think he quite comprehends just yet.”
We chatted briefly before they said they were going to go home, most of the team having left after I’d told them the news. I said goodbye, closing the door behind them.
“Come here, Mini Mouse.”
Startling at the sound of his voice, I walked back over and got him a drink of water. “How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough to hear the ridiculous conversation between you three.” He took a long sip, passing me the cup back. “I’m glad,” he said as I set the cup down next to the pitcher of water.
“Glad?”
A small smirk appeared. “That you’re friends.”
I plucked at the hem of my dress, taking a seat again as I pondered how to tell him what I had to say. “I, um, moved into Pippa’s apartment last weekend.” My feet jumped alongside my heart as I met his curious gaze. “She needed a roommate, and I, well—”
“You don’t need to explain shit to me,” he said, tone gentle yet vehement.
“I know. I just didn’t want you to think …” it was another one of my games.
He caught what I didn’t say, cursing beneath his breath. “Would you please come here?”
“No,” I said firmly. “You need to rest, and I need to head home.”
“Renee, don’t go.” He moved to sit up.
I hissed at him, “Lie down. You can’t threaten me with injuring yourself further.”
Grinning, he said, “Whatever works.” His smile fell, and he cleared his throat as he looked around the room. “You can’t sleep here, though, can you? Not on that tiny ass chair.”