Page 74 of A Play For The Heart
Henry
Threeloudbangsatmy door disrupt the fog in my brain. My couch has become my best friend since I was released from the hospital. Given the massive boot on my foot, I can't go far without my crutches, making the comfy cushions my home base for all my thrilling activities. Said activities include watching movies, eating takeout, and constantly thinking about Sawyer. The latter has caused a tear or two. Okay, a lot of tears.
I grab my crutches and hobble towards the door, assuming it’s the food I ordered. Instead of my Chinese food, I’m greeted by two massive walls of muscle who look less than happy to see me.
It’s been nearly a week since my surgery and a few days since I was discharged from the sterile hospital room full of my worst memories. Outside a few texts to my mom and Coach Barrett, I haven’t spoken to anyone. On purpose. I don’t want the false optimism or the ‘it will get better’ from either of them.
I also can't stomach having to admit I broke up with Sawyer. I feel shitty enough about everything, the last thing I need is for them to add fuel to the fire. All they will do is tell me what I already know. That I’m an idiot. That Sawyer deserves better.
Apparently, the time I spent avoiding them has come to an end since they’re both standing in my entryway. And they look pissed. Rightfully so. I probably would be too if I were them.
“Move,” Jack commands as he pushes his way through my doorway into my apartment. Deon walks behind him, barely glancing at me as he passes by. I knew this confrontation was coming, I was just hoping I would be more prepared. I haven’t talked to either of them since I was stretchered off the field. What am I supposed to say to them? That I broke Sawyer’s heart and my own? That my career may be over and I’m falling apart? Yeah, no. I would rather wither away on this couch never to be seen or heard from again. A much easier way to go.
I sigh and close the door, shuffling towards them. I sit down on the couch, elevating my ankle on the ottoman. The moment I’ve situated myself, Jack starts.
“What the actual fuck were you thinking?”
Oh.He'smadmad. He never swears unless he’s pissed. He wouldn’t be this upset about my injury, which means someone filled him in about what happened with Sawyer. The thought of him learning about what I said to her causes shame to sliver up my spine, settling deep in my gut. I’m not proud of what I said, but it felt like the only way to get her to leave. She would have stayed otherwise, and I couldn’t allow that.
“I would also like to know,” Deon adds, raising his hand. “I’m not sure what you did, but Jack dragged me here after practice and he swore, so it must be bad.”
“I got a text from Maren,” Jack says, shooting daggers at me.
Knowing Maren texted Jack about what happened sickens me. Her putting aside how she feels about him to text him gives me an idea of just how badly I hurt her. The thought of Sawyer in any type of distress causes my stomach to churn.
Deon’s head swings to Jack, the information news to him as well.
“Well…Do you want to explain why Maren texted me to Deon or should I?” I freeze up the moment I open my mouth. I should explain myself, but every excuse or explanation I have falls short. “No? Well, I can fill everyone in then. Henry broke up with Sawyer.” Deon gasps, but Jack continues, “While he was in the hospital.”
“What?” Deon whispers, looking hurt and confused.
“She asked why, and he said it was because he wasn’t good enough.” I cringe when he puts it like that, it sounds childish and dumb coming from his mouth. “Then she told him to figure out what he wants and let her know, but he hasn’t called.”
He’s right. I haven’t called. I’ve wanted to, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what I want or where to go from here, and she deserves those answers. I can't face her again until I have an answer for her. So, instead, I’ve just wallowed in my apartment, trying to figure out what I want. I could say that I want her, which is the truth. But it’s also a cop-out, and she doesn’t deserve that.
“Sorry,” I mutter. At this point, I don’t even know what I'm apologizing for. Not telling him. Hurting Sawyer. Not being able to decide what I want. All of the above.
Deon shakes his head in disappointment. “I don’t get it, man. You’re in love with her, right?”
“I love her more than anything on this earth.”
“Then why break up with her?” Deon questions.
“I did itbecauseI love her. She shouldn’t be tied to someone whose life is up in the air and has nothing to offer.”
Up until this moment, Jack has stayed silent since he told Deon what happened. Simply walking to one side of my living room, turning, and then heading in the other direction. Back and forth. My reasoning ends his short-lived quiet.
“Bullshit,” he growls. “That's a shitty excuse and we both know it.”
Deon hums his agreement to Jack's statement.
Anger bubbles up inside me. It already feels like my heart has been run over by a semi-truck. I know that I hurt Sawyer, but I did it because I know her. She would never walk away, even if I pulled her under with me. Like the captain of the Titanic, she would rather go down fighting than abandon ship. Sawyer is full of kindness and compassion. Helping people is in her nature and those traits are one of the numerous reasons I love her, but it’s not always fair to her. So, I made the choice. To release her from the burden. A decision where I shattered my own heart in hopes that hers would not break completely.
“I don’t need you two telling me shit I already know,” I practically yell, the sadness morphing into irritation. “I feel like shit, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I won’t take her down with me.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?!” Jack yells back, angrily stomping in front of the couch.
“I have nothing without football, and she deserves everything.”
