Living With Regret

by Riann C. Miller

  “Hey, Ma! What are you out doing today?” I ask with a smirk on my face. I’m thankful it’s my mother and not Carrie this time, but truth be told, I’m not in the mood for either of them.

  “Have you been drinking?” she asks with a shaky voice.

  Of course I’ve been drinking, but I’m not about to admit to anything. “I’m a grown man, Mother. I’m allowed a drink when I want. But please, by all means, come in and bust my balls about it why don’t you.”

  My mother gasps after my rather rude and definitely uncalled for comment, but the kicker is her glassy eyes. Shit. Shit. Shit. I did not mean to make her fucking cry. Without saying another word, she turns, ready to walk away.

  “WAIT. Please don’t go. I didn’t mean what I just said. I’m pissed off and, unfortunately, I’m willing to take that out on anyone, including you.”

  She hesitates, but after debating for a few seconds, she walks back up and comes inside. What a fucktastic way to start my day. First Carrie, then my mother. No, I haven’t been drinking today, but I’m hungover from drinking way too much last night—something I’m positive I shouldn’t have done.

  “I’ve been worried about you. You haven’t returned a call or even a text in over a week. Jake told me he’s seen you a few times so I thought I would give you some breathing room, but I wanted to see for myself that you’re okay. But that doesn’t seem to be the case, especially after seeing that woman leaving.”

  “She wasn’t here like that. She showed up and I refused to let her in.” Ma sighs with relief but I’m not okay; I’m barely hanging on. Last week, after reviewing my medical files, the NFL Commissioner deemed me not eligible to play the rest of the current season with next year already questionable. I might as well kiss my football career goodbye.

  When the news was announced, my father practically went postal, blaming everyone, including me, for ruining my life. At that point, I made a stop at the liquor store where I’m positive the guy behind the counter thought I was throwing a massive party. I went home and started drinking my worries away.

  That was last week. However, nothing has changed this week other than I haven’t left my house, even for my appointments with Wallace and Stein. I was only going in hopes of seeing the field again and that’s no longer the case.

  “I’m fine. Pissed at the world, but otherwise fine.” I know my mother can see right through the show I’m putting on for her. Either way, she appears shaky and insecure about how to handle me. “Ma, I’m serious. I’ll be fine. I’m sorry I was a dick to you earlier.”

  After my comment, she straightens her shoulders and gives me a confident smile then proceeds to rock my world. “I’m divorcing your father.”

  “Whaaaaat?” I mumble out, not sure if I actually heard her correctly.

  My father hasn’t been by to see me after his meltdown and I haven’t seen Ma in over two weeks. I have no idea if something has happened while I’ve been checked out on life.

  “I’ve thought about this for a while now, but I’ve somehow always convinced myself I need to do what’s right. For him, for you, but now I’m going to do what’s best for me.”

  My dad’s an ass, and I’m sure as fuck glad I’m not the one married to him, but I never imagined that my mom would leave him. “This is really what you want?” I question in concern.

  Her eyes water to the point I’m shocked she’s not fully crying yet. “Chase, I’m not sorry for leaving your father, but I’m sorry for the horrible example we set.”

  “What are you talking about? You’ve been the best mother a kid could ask for,” I say as I take a step closer to her.

  “Mother, yes, but your father and I weren’t the best example as to how a married couple should act. I grew up believing that true love conquers all, then I met your father and he swept me off my feet, but it wasn’t the kind of love my mother convinced me existed. I was ready to break up with your father when I found out I was pregnant with you, so I stayed. For the most part, your father was a good man and he was able to provide for us in ways I wouldn’t have been able to do by myself, so I gave up the fairytale and decided to live in reality.” She sniffles and looks up into my eyes.

  “The first time I ever witnessed the kind of love my mother told me about was when I saw how you looked at Jordan.”

  I’m still a little drunk from the night before but hearing my mother’s last comment feels like another punch to my already sensitive stomach.

  “I knew your father was dead set that the two of you should part ways before you left for school, and he somehow convinced me to go along with it. But I kept thinking they’ll be okay because I know true love conquers all.” Mom pauses to wipe a tear from her face.

  “Do you remember what I told you the night before you broke up with Jordan? ‘If you love someone, let them go. If they come back to you, they’re yours forever. If they don’t, then it was never meant to be.’” My eyes remain locked with my mom’s as she continues to fight back more tears.

  “Chase, Jordan came back to you and you just let her go. You let her walk out your door without even a word from you. Why? Why on earth would you do that?” That’s not a question I want to answer because I’m not ready to admit what a coward I am.

  “I’ll admit, it was harder than hell to get her on the phone, but once I did, she was by your side less than twenty-four hours later.”

  Where Jordan is concerned, my anger has been replaced by guilt, and right now my mom is pouring salt on an open wound.

  “From the second your father saw her, he acted like she was there to personally ruin your life, but she held her own. I knew then she wasn’t the same little girl I remembered. Instead, she’s a grown woman who’s as magnificent on the inside as she is on the outside.”

  I slowly close my eyes in pain because every word my mother spoke is the God’s honest truth. Jordan is worlds better than me and as the fog finally lifted from my head, I remembered all the reasons I never contacted her. Every horrible thing I did to not only her but to other people came flooding back, and the bottom line is ...I don’t deserve her.

  “Ma, with everything I’ve been through, it would be completely unfair of me to drag her down.”

  Ma’s eyes flash. “Chase, don’t lose the woman God meant for you over some foolish pride. Football was never your dream. It was your father’s. Yes, you enjoyed playing it, but if you were truly given a choice, you would have picked Jordan a million times before football. And it’s clear, whether she wants to admit it or not, that she’s chosen you, too. She put her life on hold for you even after you broke her heart; she did that because true love really does conquer all. Don’t let that go, don’t sacrifice any more than you already have, and don’t worry about the things you can’t change. If I know Jordan like I think I do, then everything that happened while you were in school will be long forgiven because, honestly, it’s only you that hasn’t forgiven yourself.”

  I’m positive I don’t deserve forgiveness, especially from Jordan. I take a deep breath and hesitantly say, “I’m not the same person she fell in love with.” My voice is weak as the emotional ride I’ve been on the last couple of months takes over.

  “Of course you’re not. You’ve grown up; you’re worldly now. Not every decision you’ve made has been the right one but you’ve grown up and you can’t allow yourself to live in the shadows of your past. Forgive yourself for what happened and finally move on.”

  To the outside world, college appeared to be an amazing time in my life, but truthfully, it was a struggle, a struggle I lost for a period of time.

  “Chase, it’s time to let it go. Find that passion you once had and start living life. Your football career might have been shorter than you like, but you held a position that millions of men would die to have a shot at. You’re financially secure and you have a college degree. Now go get your girl and make yourself happy.”

  I exhale loudly. “Are you going to be okay? I mean, without Dad?” I don’t want her to be unhappy b
ut I still can’t come to terms with the idea that she’s actually going to divorce him.

  “Of course. This is something I’ve thought about doing for years, and recently I was reminded of why I need to. You don’t walk over the people you love, you walk with them, remember that, Chase.”

  JORDAN

  “Let’s do another shot!” Loud clubs, dancing, and drinking is how Lacey likes to unwind, but I would love to be home with a glass of wine and a little peace and quiet.

  “Oh, look at that man over there. He’s so freaking hot. You should go get his number!” I narrow my eyes at her. I thought since I’ve been out on a few dates with Caleb she wouldn’t be pushing me off on every guy she spots, but that hasn’t been the case.

  “I’m kind of seeing Caleb. I shouldn’t be out scoring other guys’ phone numbers.”

  A strange look passes over her face when she adds, “You’re not exclusive yet, right?” My eyes thin even more after her question.

  “Well, no, but I think it’s wrong to be going out with more than one guy at a time, don’t you?” Lacey and I don’t share the same views on men. She’s never been in love before and isn’t sure she’ll ever find love. In the meantime, she’s happy with Mr. Right Now. Me, on the other hand, while I enjoy sex, I’ve been looking for something—anything—close to the type of relationship I had with Chase.

  “What’s going on? Do you know something I don’t?” Lacey gives me a sour look before spilling information I can’t believe she hadn’t already told me.

  “Caleb went out on a date last night with some girl he met a while back. I thought he told you, but after talking to you, I could tell he hadn’t.”

  I hinted around about going out last night but all Caleb said was he had plans that he made a while back and couldn’t get out of them, which meant I wouldn’t get to see him at all this weekend. Yet he had time for someone else.

  “Oh,” I say, looking out at the dance floor. I hate feeling vulnerable and exposed. With Caleb, I was already missing that spark I wanted to find again but was willing to keep trying. All the while, he’s still playing the field. How stupid am I?

  “Jordan, I don’t think it was anything serious, so I wouldn’t worry about it.” Lacey reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.

  “I’m not worried, believe me. However, this is exactly why I said I shouldn’t date a friend of yours. Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.” My voice was slightly harsher than I intended.

  “Wait, just because he went out with someone else doesn’t mean the two of you can’t date.”

  Yes, it does and it’s all Chase’s fault. I want to meet a man who after one look at me knows ...I’m all he wants. I already knew I wasn’t feeling that way about Caleb and I’m going to take this as a sign to move on.

  “Let’s do another shot and then I’m going over there to get that guy’s number!” I say with more confidence than I feel.

  “Whoo hoo! Let’s do this!” Lacey screeches over the music seconds before I throw back probably one shot too many.

  I’m hungover or, hell, maybe I’m still drunk. My doorman has rung my apartment three times already. If he rings it one more time, I might find my ice pick and go stab his eyes out.

  As I climb back into my bed after using the bathroom, I hear an incoming text on my cell, which I grab off my nightstand. I groan when I see it’s from Caleb. I also have four more missed texts from him. Shit. When I open up my message app, I see why. Holy crap, I sent him a text last night ...I don’t remember doing that.

  Me: I hope your date last night rocked your world because I won’t be rocking it from now on.

  Caleb: Please let me explain.

  Caleb: I made plans with her before I went out with you and I didn’t want to be rude and cancel.

  Caleb: Lace told me you’re drunk. Please call me so I know you’re okay.

  Caleb: I’m downstairs. I want to talk to you. Please let me up.

  Caleb: Who’s the other guy waiting to see you?

  Other guy? I slowly get up, walk over to the monitor, and hit the call button.

  “Hello, Ms. Taylor. I’m sorry to have rung you so many times today but it seems you’re popular this morning.” Don nervously laughs.

  Lacey and my parents are my only approved visitors so I know I can rule out any of them being down there.

  “I have a Mr. Caleb Ramsey and a Mr. Chase Adams here to see you.”

  An overwhelming need to be sick comes over me when I hear Chase’s name. What in the hell is he doing here? “Don, I’m not feeling well. Could you please inform both men that I’m not in the mood for visitors?”

  “Very well, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Don.”

  Seconds later, my phone goes off with another text from Caleb.

  Caleb: Seriously WTH? Let me up and I’ll take care of you.

  I don’t need him to take care of me. Maybe I’m being unfair seeing as we weren’t exclusive, but casual or not, I don’t want the man I’m seeing out with other women while he’s dating me.

  Caleb: Who the hell is this guy? Are you seeing him and giving me hell for a date that meant nothing?

  My head is pounding and I just want both of them to go away. Ten minutes later, I get half of my wish.

  Caleb: I can’t sit here all day like this jackass can. I’m expected back at the office soon. Text or call me later. Please.

  Thank God. One of them is gone and I’m sure Chase will give up soon.

  I’m compelled to go down there with my ice pick, but instead of stabbing Don, it would be Chase. I’m not sure what he’s doing here, but I have no intention of finding out.

  CHASE

  When I finally pulled my head out of my ass and went to my appointment with Dr. Stein, he agreed it was time to put my past behind me and focus on my future, whatever that might be. Medically speaking, if I want to keep football a part of my life, I can. My scans show that my brain is healing, and it’s definitely possible that I can play again next year, but at what risk? The last time I suffered a concussion, I woke up distorted and living in a made up world. Next time might be worse. Before I saw Jordan again, that was a risk I was willing to take, but not anymore.

  My talk with my mother inspired me to want more for myself, but after spending the week before in a drunken haze, I needed a little help to get my life under control, especially if I was going to call Jordan.

  I made an appointment every day for almost two weeks with Dr. Stein, and every time I was there, I talked his ear off. At first, I felt extremely awkward admitting to everything I’ve ever done, but the most enlightening moment came when I finally admitted out loud that Dr. Stein was right, that my anger towards Jordan always stemmed from learning that she didn’t actually belong to me anymore, which was completely my doing.

  After I took responsibility for my actions and owned up to shit I’ve avoided for years, I was ready to call Jordan and beg her, if necessary, to talk to me, only I ran in to a roadblock. Jordan’s phone had been disconnected and she doesn’t take personal calls on her work number—for any reason. I even told the lady that answered the phone that it was a matter of life and death. That got me nowhere. She said I should call her personal cell if it was that important. And, of course, if I knew Jordan Taylor personally, I would have her private number.

  Another thing I discovered about Jordan is she doesn’t just work for a cosmetic company. She’s the CEO of a company that’s known worldwide. During the week we spent together, she never hinted around that she has a job as powerful as the one she holds, which again only spotlights how little I know about her these days.

  I’m guessing it’s due to her title that she stays off social media sites, or at least if she has any, she’s not using her real name, which is something I understand all too well. I hired a man in New York to look around to find out any information he could about her, and within a day he had her home address, but nothing more.

  When my concern, or rather my fear, started rearing
its ugly head again, my mother assumed I would drag my feet long enough to ruin any shot I might have. As a birthday present, she purchased me a one-way ticket to New York.

  Between the time change and a delay at the Phoenix airport, I arrived in New York too late to show up at Jordan’s apartment. I checked into a hotel not far from where she lives and decided to wait until morning to pay her a long overdue visit. Only once I arrived, her doorman said she wasn’t answering and my fear of where she might be this early in the morning ate away at me. My panic increased when another man stopped in and asked the doorman to ring Jordan’s apartment. The only peace I received came when she finally answered the call and she wasn’t any more eager to see this other guy then she was me.

  As of now, I’ve awkwardly sat in her lobby for almost five hours while the doorman has pretended I don’t exist. On the inside, I’m going out of my mind waiting, but on the outside, I’ve tried to ensure I don’t look like a crazy person. Only someone seriously desperate or insane would wait over five hours for a woman to leave her apartment. Maybe I am a little bit of both. I wouldn’t be surprised if the police are called before much longer.

  My eyes start to shut as my body slowly gives up the battle to stay awake. That’s when I hear the elevator doors open. Not expecting it to be her, I crack one eye open and I’m treated to the best gift my mother could have given me for my birthday, even if it came a day late.

  At first, she appears to be on a mission to get the hell out of her building, but she slows once she spots me.

  “You’re still here?”

  Her tone and demeanor are clear signs that she’s not thrilled to see me, and after sitting here for five hours, I shouldn’t find this surprising.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” I say, jumping to my feet. “I’m sorry for how things went that day at my house, I should have . . .” Fuck, I should have done a million things differently, and I’m not sure where I should start.