Page 82 of The Right Player
Gemma rubbed my back, crawling over to take me in her arms. “It’s scary. I know it is. But don’t sabotage this incredible thing you’ve found just because he made one mistake. And it wasn’t even a big one.” She waited until I looked at her before she said, “He apologized. He’s asking for your forgiveness. And let me tell you, babe… if you give it to him?” She shrugged on a smile. “Then all this pain you’re feeling, it will all go away. And if I know anything about that man you’ve been dating for the last few months, it’s that he won’t ever hurt you again.”
I sniffed. “How can you be so sure?”
At that, Gemma laughed, tapping my nose with her index finger. “Because he loves you, dum-dum. And yes, love is messy and flawed and sometimes it can drag us through the ringer. But he’s not going to walk out on you, no matter what comes.” She paused. “Now, it’s up to you, if you can say the same.”
Another wave of sobs hit me, and this one was the worst of all. I choked under the strength of it, breaking in my best friend’s arms as her words settled in over me like the orange glow of dawn on the heels of the darkest night.
He loved me.
And I loved him, too.
Those were the only things that mattered, and yet Gemma had seen what I never did — that I’d taken the first opportunity I could get to light it all on fire in the name of being right. I wanted to be right, about the way I felt about myself, about the way I felt about men and dating and love, in general.
Because the alternative was to put myself at risk again, the same way everyone who was in love did.
And being the unlovable girl was easier than that.
“I don’t know what to do,” I confessed, the words mumbled by Gemma’s t-shirt.
She rubbed my back, soothing me. “Right now, you don’t need to do anything but drink some wine and watch some shows with your best friend. We’ll figure everything else out. But… just think about what I said, okay? Ask yourself what you really want.” She bent down to look me in the eyes. “And whatever you decide, I’ll be there with you. Okay?”
I nodded, wrapping my arms around her neck in a tight hug that we held for the longest time.
“Alright, now, back to Jonathan Van Ness and his angelic hair,” she said, kissing my cheek before she released me. But she smiled at me, wiping one of my stray tears before I had the chance. “I love you, bestie.”
That made me cry more. “I love you, too.”
With one last squeeze of my hand, Gemma handed me my glass of wine, and we settled back into the couch, muting the conversation for the time being.
But my thoughts were on fire, loud and roaring, and with every pop and crackle of embers I heard the same notion growing louder and louder.
Don’t let him go.
Don’t let him go.
Don’t. Let. Him. Go.MakoaSunday came too fast, well before I felt like I truly had a handle on my mental or physical game. I’d spent the last few days trying to get centered and focused, forcing myself to sleep and eat, even when it made me feel sick to do so. Because with football, there was no calling in sick. There were no personal days — especially when you were a free agent trying to secure a spot on the team.
You either showed up and showed out, or you got cut.
Those were the only options.
I was silent in the locker room before the game, listening to coach and the other players with a distant sort of awareness. Today, the veterans would get a little action, and they’d get more and more as we neared the regular season, which meant I needed to buckle down and use the time I’d get on the field today wisely.
Gerald walked by me on his way out to warm up, and he tapped my helmet. “Let’s get it.”
I nodded, and the look he gave me told me he understood I was going through shit. But it also said, loud and clear, whatever it is, man, leave it in here.
Half the team was already out of the locker room when I reached into my duffle bag and pulled out my phone. I swiped to Belle’s name, opening a new text message and staring at the blinking cursor.
There were so many things I wanted to say.
I miss you.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
I’m miserable without you.
I’ll do anything to get you back.
I love you.
I longed to send her a text with one, if not all, of those messages, but I heard Colby’s voice in the back of my mind, and I knew he was right.
