Page 53 of All Too Well
Lachlan pops another cookie in his mouth, and once he’sdone chewing, which takes for-freaking-ever, he sighs heavily. “Because I don’t want to think about the past anymore.”
“It’s not about the past.”
“No? You aren’t going to talk about all of our glory days? How we’re just a bunch of stupid jocks who can’t let go of the time when we were kings?”
“I mean, that might have been in there a little. But what’s the big deal? You were those things. You were destined for a life that people dream of.”
Lachlan huffs. “Thisis the life that people dream of, Ainsley. Where they have a little something that’s theirs. Where they can raise a family, build a life. The legacy is in the little moments, not the big things.”
I disagree. “Legacy is what we leave behind, Lach. It’s not moments, it’s everything we are. The life we had, the things we did, the people we touched. You don’t get to define that. Your past is what made you the man you are today. The things you’ve learned, the way you chose to follow different paths, are all part of the greater story.”
It’s why I love writing about people instead of fashion accessories. There’s a nuance about uncovering layers of a person’s life. It’s all part of the threads that weave a story. Without those differences and colors, you have a muted and boring article that leaves the reader unfulfilled.
I don’t want that.
“Have you forgotten what that time was like for me?”
I try to remember back that far, but it’s a blur. First of all, I was so damn in love with him that I probably couldn’t see anything other than a heart each time I saw his face. Those rose-colored glasses were thick too.
“I guess I have,” I confess.
“I hated everything. I was so fucking sure I was going to be drafted. It was all anyone could promise. The coaches, the scouts, my teammates, and then I found out that Claire was pregnant. I walked away. I just knew that my life couldn’t be that. I saw what being away does to a kid.”
“I’m sorry, Lach.”
He shakes his head. “You know what I hated most?”
I stay silent because I’m pretty sure it’s rhetorical.
“Having to see your face after I dropped out of the draft.”
I rear back slightly at that. “Me?”
I don’t even remember him telling me about it. Sure, I was sort of busy with college, but still, I don’t know why I would’ve been a worry at all.
“You thought Caspian and I were fucking heroes, and here I was, letting you down.”
Without thinking, I move toward him, resting my hand on his arm. “You didn’t let me down by not going into pro sports. Let’s be real. It’s not like I’m a fan of any sport. I go to games with friends and I’m lost.”
He chuckles. “I know.”
“I’m just saying that I should’ve never been a worry.”
“I think it was just the idea of you thinking I was a loser.”
The way he says it makes my stomach clench. I need to bring this conversation back to the witty banter we’re both known for. Otherwise I’m going to say something stupid like:You could never be a loser, I love you. Marry me. Let’s have babies.
I shift back to my original position and grab a cookie from the tray. “Well, you are a loser, but not because of football. Just because ... you are.”
I pop the cookie into my mouth, and Lachlan lunges forward, catching me before I can jump off. He pulls on my hips, the two of us laughing, and pins me beneath him.
“Take it back,” he teases.
I wiggle, but there’s no moving. “Never.”
“Berry, take it back. Say, ‘You are not a loser, Lachlan, you are amazing.’”
I laugh at that one. “Do you know me at all?”
