by Layne Harper
My back is turned to the stairs when I hear him come down. I pour myself a little piece of salvation and take a sip. I can’t bear to turn around and see him. If I don’t see him leave then it really isn’t over. I continue to keep my back to him as I sip my coffee.
Then, my Colin sense kicks in. It’s the sense that I wish right now I could have surgically removed. I feel him getting closer to me, but he doesn’t touch me. His strong voice surprises me, “I’ll tell you, but I’ve already packed my things because you’re going to never speak to me again anyway.” Colin doesn’t have an ounce of emotion in his voice, and that scares me to death.
I pick up my coffee mug without turning to look at him and walk to my dining room table that still has melted candle wax on it scaring its wood. What a perfect analogy for my heart. I sit down knowing that this conversation is about to get very ugly. Colin grabs a water out of the refrigerator and joins me at the table.
I finally take the opportunity to look at him. He’s a broken man. The lines around his eyes make him look older than his thirty years. If companies could see the man that I’m looking at, the only endorsement deals that he would be offered would be for wrinkle cream and antidepressants. The Colin in front of me is the polar opposite of the Colin that I saw in the elevator after an eight year separation. I know that I look as haggard as him. What in the hell have we done to each other in such a short period of time? Maybe Mark’s right. Maybe we are bad for each other.
I hope that this is the worst moment in our relationship and years from now, we can look back at these last few days as the days that we hit rock bottom. Because the reality is, we can’t keep doing this to each other.
I take his hand across the table and squeeze it. “Let me be the judge of whether or not I speak to you again. Thank you for trusting me.” I do my best to reassure him.
His voice is even and emotionless. “Just so you know. I’ve already called Mark and fired him. He violated my trust in the worst way, and I’ll never work with him again,” he states.
I begin trying to defend Mark. I had no idea that Colin would fire him, and I certainly never told Colin who told me about the near death experience.
Colin cuts me off, “I get it. Mark is concerned about me. Blah… Blah… Blah… In reality, he went behind my back and ruined the one relationship that I care the most about. Forget Mark.” Colin says with a swish of his hand.
I sit back in my chair and take a sip of coffee. I’ll add Mark to the casualty list of our explosive love affair. Apparently, we’re like a tornado destroying everything around us.
Colin takes a sip of his water and begins talking in the same emotionless tone. “You know that after I left you in College Station, I began drinking heavily. My life went to shit. I didn’t give a fuck about football, my family, or friends. The summer after your graduation from college, I was with Aiden one night drinking until I puked and listening to George Jones sing He Stopped Loving Her Today on repeat when Rachael called Aiden in a panic. Aiden tried to hide the details from me, but I overheard that you’d fainted in the middle of a run and were in the emergency room. Aiden jumped in the car to get to Rachael and ultimately you. I called your dad trying to get more information on where you were and how you were doing. Your dad told me that this was my fault and to forget that you ever existed.”
That must have been what Colin was referring to the other night when he accused my dad of keeping us apart. Just remembering that incident for Colin is so extremely painful that I long to hold him and comfort him. I’m angry at myself for making him relive it. I vow that if we get past this, that I’ll never make him speak of it again.
It was July before I left for Boston. I was running in a jogging suit in one hundred degree weather in Houston. In hindsight, it was a cry for help. At the time, I thought that I was hiding my eating disorder well by eating high calorie foods and drinking smoothies. I passed out on a residential street. One of the homeowners quickly found me and called an ambulance. I spent a week in the hospital suffering from dehydration and malnutrition. That’s when my dad found me the therapist in Boston who ultimately saved my life. I had been devastated that Colin didn’t check on me. At the time, I felt so betrayed - like our relationship meant nothing to him. It made me question if he really ever cared about me at all. Now, I know that he did, but my father pushed him away.
After another couple of sips of water, he continues. “Clay helped me find my way back to football that summer, but you being hospitalized and my feeling responsible for it pushed me over the edge. Then, your dad not letting me see you, and Aiden and Rachael whispering about you but refusing to give me updates did me in. One night, I drank so much that I ruptured a blood vessel in my stomach. I was puking blood during practice so they naturally took me to the hospital. That’s when I discovered my allergy to alcohol.”
I shake my head and squeeze Colin’s hand. “I had no idea, baby. Aiden and Rachael never told me.”
And to think that he drank liquor and poisoned himself to keep Sasha away from him at the Clay South dinner after he had that horrible experience. It’s disturbing to me on many different levels. Going to the extreme of poisoning one’s self is messed up. I’ll table this for our/my appointment with Doctor Benson.
Colin gives me a sad smile. It’s the first time that I’ve seen any other emotion than broken and calm since he started speaking. “Aiden and Rachael were such good friends to us that it cost them their relationship.”
I don’t ask Colin to elaborate because I want him to stay focused on us, but I make a mental note to talk to Rachael about it. I was in such a bad place when they broke up that I never really got the story.
“So here I am. Fuckin’ miserable. My girl is so sick because of me that she has been hospitalized. My best friend lost his girl because of me, and now, I can’t even fucking drink to make my mind stop reeling and heart quit aching. One of the guys that I played with dabbled in drugs. Not a hardcore addict or anything, but we all knew that he could get whatever you wanted. I had him come to my house. I told him that I just needed something to make my mind stop for a little while. He told me to get the trainers to give my Percocet, Vicoden, or Oxycontin. So, the next day at practice, I complained about my ribs hurting, and I got my first bottle of Percocet.”
I motion for Colin to stop. I need a moment to absorb what he just revealed. A prescription drug user was not what I was expecting to hear come out of his mouth. I thought that he might’ve drank too much and drove. This must be what Mark meant when he said that Colin almost died. As a medical doctor, I’m very well aware of how dangerous prescription drug abuse is. My heart aches. “Not my Colin,” I keep repeating over and over in my head.
“Honey, that’s awful. How long did you use them?” I ask. I am assuming that he’s stopped because I haven’t even seen him take so much as an aspirin since we’ve been together.
“You wanted the story, Charlie. So you’re getting the story,” he says very composed. “They worked. When I took more prescription pain killers than I was prescribed, I didn’t think about you or how lonely my life was. I felt numb, and that was awesome. They were legal in the NFL so I didn’t have to worry about failing a drug test. There were doctors all over Dallas willing to give me prescriptions, and because I was a celebrity, they would even call them in in other people’s names. My football career didn’t suffer. In fact, I wasn’t thinking about you so I could focus more on the game. I didn’t feel pain so I could lift more weight. Before I knew it, I was modeling underwear, shoes, cologne, and clothes. I was posing almost naked with beautiful models who never told me no. I thought prescription painkillers were the second coming of Jesus Christ.”
He pulls his hand away from me and begins the damn pacing. I take the opportunity to fix myself another cup of coffee. The sun is just rising and the day’s getting light, but I feel like I’ve already lived a lifetime.
When I sit back down at the dining room table, Colin continues his story while he paces. “Then,
I met the girl that became my wife. She was hot, gorgeous, and fucked like a wild beast. I thought she was everything that I needed to get over you. She was so dumb that I swear sometimes I had to remind her to blink. She was always ready for me to take her. Any time. Anywhere. She never told me no, and she never questioned me. She didn’t challenge me or bust my balls.”
He stops pacing and looks at me. “I know that this is very difficult for you to hear, but you’re the one that asked for the whole story. I was trying to keep this hideous part of my life from you.”
The stress on Colin’s face is evident. It’s taking a lot out of him to be this open, but I appreciate it. No. I don’t like hearing about Colin having animalistic sex with his first wife, but he’s right. I did ask for the whole story.
“I’m okay, baby. Keep talking.” I try to reassure him.
He begins the pacing again. “One day, I decided to Google you. I took extra pills and typed your name in. There were pictures of you with friends that had been posted on MySpace. You looked happy. Much happier than I felt. Then, I saw a picture of you with a guy - the same guy that you had framed on your bookshelf. You were looking at the camera, but he was staring at you. His eyes said it all. He wanted you. I looked at you with those eyes. I knew exactly what it felt like to still want you that badly. I felt like a defensive lineman had hit me helmet first in the gut. You’d moved on and found someone else. You were happy and healthy and making your dreams come true. I was surviving with a drug addiction and a girl who I couldn’t have a conversation with. I knew that I couldn’t continue like I was. I didn’t want to die. I just didn’t want to live that way any longer.”
My eyes grow large and I gasp, “Oh God. You didn’t try to kill yourself did you?” This just keeps getting more horrible by the minute.
I put my head in between my knees trying to get my breath back. Colin rushes to me and kneels down beside me. He strokes my hair with his hand. “I’m so sorry, baby. This is why I didn’t want to tell you. It’s fuckin’ killing me to watch your face while I share this pile of shit with you. You’re never going to look at me like you did before. I can no longer be your mission statement after this.”
He keeps stroking my hair while I hug his neck and sob into his shoulder. I keep reminding myself that whatever happened he wasn’t successful because he’s right here with me now. He’s real, and he’s mine. He’s okay.
Once I gain my composure, I say, “I’m ready. I need for you to finish.”
He pulls me into his lap and cradles me to him. We’re now sitting on the floor, leaning against my kitchen island at the same spot that he made love to me. I’m wrapped in his arms, and he’s holding on to me for dear life. We need each other in this moment. He needs my support, and I need the physical reassurance that he’s okay.
“She left the house to pick up dinner. Mark and Aiden were supposed to be over in an hour for a meeting about another endorsement offer. I printed out the picture of you with the guy and wrote on it in pen. ‘I hope he makes you happier than I did.’ Then, I took a bottle of pills. I had flushed everything else in my house so there was no evidence of my addiction before I swallowed the pills. I left the empty pill bottle on your picture, and I decided to go to sleep.”
Colin begins to rock me in his lap and plants gentle, sweet kisses on my forehead and hair. I find the motion soothing. “The next thing that I know, I’m in the hospital having my stomach pumped with an IV in my arm. Apparently, Mark and Aiden had found me and gotten me to the hospital. I was fine. The doctors agreed to cover it up and call it an acute case of food poisoning. No one ever knew the truth. Mark told me later that he got rid of the pill bottle and your picture before the ambulance arrived. It was a wakeup call. I haven’t had another pain pill since. If Tylenol or Advil can’t fix it, I just suffer. Clay doesn’t even know what happened. I proposed to her a week later. We got married. I quickly realized that I couldn’t live with someone who I couldn’t have a conversation with no matter how great the sex was. She hung on for the most favorable divorce settlement possible, and I haven’t heard from her since. That’s it, Charlie. That’s the disgusting truth. I went so clean after I got out of the hospital that I’ve maybe had two glasses of wine a year and treat my body as well as I can. I figure it’s my way of apologizing for the abuse that I put it through.”
I sit cradled in his lap for a long time processing what he just revealed. He’s right. It’s ugly. Very ugly. Much uglier than I imagined. I realize that Colin is wrong, though. For the first time in our relationship, I see him as a real person. He’s not the mission statement, football hunk, model, or elite athlete. He’s finally just an imperfect boy who loves an imperfect, flawed, and fucked up girl. By Colin sharing his ugly truths with me, I no longer wonder what he sees in me. I know what he sees. He sees my scars as I see his now. Those scars show that we’ve got grit and determination to be healthy and happy people because we know what the alternative looks like. And we don’t want to go back there again.
No more “what ifs.” They’re gone. I want him as my forever. I’ll figure out the relationship with my dad and my career. Colin’s my number one priority. I can do this. I can choose the much harder road because I want to spend the rest of my life loving this man more than I want to be a part owner in my father’s medical practice. Our road is going to be gridlocked with media speculation, fans mobbing us in public, shuffling our careers, and working hard to find time for each other. We’ll do it. We’ll figure it out because Colin’s right. We both want to make this relationship last.
“I love you,” I whisper to him.
“I love you too,” he says kissing me repeatedly on the forehead. “Does this mean that you aren’t walking away from me?” He asks timidly.
I scramble out of his lap and kneel in front of him so we’re face to face. His gorgeous eyes are reflecting the signs of stress that he’s under. His face is etched with the pain in his heart. I grasp it in my hands and gently kiss his perfect full lips.
I stare into his eyes. My lavender locked into his green. “I’ve never loved you more than this moment. No, baby, I’m not walking away from you. In fact, Colin.Fucking.McKinney will you do me the honor of being my husband?”
It comes out of nowhere. I had no idea that I was about to propose to him, but in this moment nothing could feel more right. Colin can’t propose to me. It would mean nothing. He’s probably asked me to marry him hundreds of times, and every time I told him “not today.” I had to do this to prove to both us just how committed we are to each other.
Colin doesn’t give me the reaction that I’m expecting. He jumps to his feet and begins pacing. Those damn sexy hands start going through his wavy hair. Oh God! Is this what I made him feel like every time that I told him not today?
I begin to tear up and look away from him. I feel so embarrassed. It’s too soon. I start to take it back when he replies, “God dammit, Charlie! Do you have to beat me in everything? Shit! Are you really that competitive that you can’t even let me decide when we get married? I’m the fucking guy. I’m the one who proposes to you. Not the other way around. Could you just be a girl for once and let me take the fuck’n lead?”
I start to laugh. It’s the kind of laugh that starts in my toes and builds its way up to my eyes. He stops his pacing and looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. He’s really upset that I proposed to him. He’s not telling me no. I just bruised his fragile male ego. This is too perfect. I take the original engagement ring off of my infinity necklace. I kneel down in front of my pacing boy with a bruised ego and ask, “Colin, will you marry me?” while I slip the ring on his pinky. It only fits on the first knuckle.
If anyone could see us now, they wouldn’t believe it. My tough as nails professional quarterback is wearing a diamond engagement ring on his pinky. While his tear streaked girlfriend is proposing. He looks confused, amused, and offended all in one beautiful package.
He reaches down and grabs me from under my arms and pulls me into a sta
nding position. “For fuck’s sake. Can you not do that again? I feel my dick shrinking.” Fortunately, amusement has reached his beautiful green eyes and the lines are relaxing.
I reach down and feel his penis through his running shorts. It’s definitely not shrinking. He looks at me flashing the half smile that I covet. “I guess I’ve proposed enough in my life and look where it’s gotten me. Yes. Doctor Caroline Jane Collins it would be the greatest honor of my life to be your husband. But, if you ever tell anyone that you proposed to me the wedding’s off.”
I pretend to think about his words, but we both know that this moment will become a part of our relationship lore. I’ll tease him about having to propose to him, and he’ll pretend that he has no idea what I’m talking about. We’ll be the only ones who know the truth, and that’s all that matters.
He scoops me up into his arms and carries me upstairs. It feels so Gone With The Wind that I actually think about quoting Scarlett O’Hara. The look on his face is one that I’ll never forget. Colin’s a man determined. His eyes are filled with lust and love. He’s smiling as if he’s the happiest man in the world, but it’s his heart that says it all. I can feel it and hear it beating in time with mine. We are connected - two broken parts that have become one whole.
Colin gently lays me down on the bed and makes quick work of my running shoes, clothes, and sports bra. His shorts were disposed of at some point on the walk to the bedroom.