Page 38 of No Place Like Home

“Baby, you need to open the windows.” Lauren walked in with a fashion magazine clutched in her hand. “This is why you aren’t getting any better. You’re trapped with negativity.”

My jaw clenched at her comment.

“Positivity isn’t going to heal my leg. It isn’t going to get me my career back,” I snapped.

I was going to get kicked out any day now. I knew it, and so did she. If I wasn’t at a hundred percent, I was nothing but dead fucking weight.

“I’m just trying to help.” She rolled her eyes as she opened the curtains, letting the sun rays come into the room.

“Yeah?” I bit back. “Like youhelpedby leaking the information about my torn ACL and MCL?”

The doctor had barely given me the news when she tweeted about it. Her ranking shot through the roof that day.

“It was an accident. I just wanted your fans to know you were okay.”

She dared to look offended. She was supposed to be in that hospital for me, to support me, but she’d ended up damaging me even more.

I laughed bitterly. “My fans know I’mnotokay.”

Lauren huffed, then left the room with the brightness trying to enter every dark corner.

I didn’t have the energy to go after her. It would only lead to more fighting, and I just didn’t want to fight. I didn’t want to do anything. I just wanted to lie in my bed, waiting for the day to become night.

Every night, I prayed I’d wake up from this horrible nightmare, but every day, I had to live it again and again. I was just so fucking done with it all.

People said to work hard for your dreams, but what about when those dreams came crashing down? What happened then? What did you do when you still got up, but it wasn’t the same? When the one thing that made you get up each morning was gone, and you just felt empty?

You questioned why anything mattered at all.

I heard whining and felt a presence on my lap. I didn’t have to look to know it was Simba begging for attention. I didn’t even have the energy to pet my fucking dog. I covered my face with the comforter and lay there for another meaningless day to pass me by.

What was the point of living if the one thing you loved was ripped out of your arms?

* * *

Coming backto Sunny Pines after everyone saw my career end didn’t have me jumping for joy, but my place in San Francisco was packed with sports reporters. My home here was more secluded, and the people of this town wouldn’t rat on me for a dime, so here I was now.

My house was a luxurious lodge cabin. The front was decorated with brick, and the back had windows all over that overlooked Lake Superior.

I sat in my kitchen, looking out at the vast lake, remembering how it felt to play in the Superbowl. The way my blood had hummed, my heart beating so wildly that you’d think it would break free from my chest. The thrill in my eyes and the love I had for the game…and now it was all gone.

I prided myself in never falling in love with any woman, but who knew bitches weren’t the only ones who could break your heart?

I was hollowed.

I was broken.

I was dying.

Everything I’d worked hard for was gone in the blink of an eye.

Life was not fucking fair.

Getting off the stool I was sitting on, I grabbed it and slammed it against the far wall, making the TV shatter. Simba got up and started barking, then looked at me and whined before leaving me alone.

A few hours later, I heard the sound of my front door opening, but I didn’t bother to look. I sat on another stool, watching the sunset and how the rays bounced off the water.

Simba’s paws could be heard scratching the floor as he ran to greet whoever came to keep us company.

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