Page 84 of A Play For The Heart
He’s standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets. The tension in the air is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Not once since knowing Henry have I felt awkward in his presence. Being around him has always been fun and light. Now it's heavy. It's unfamiliar territory.
I nod, and he slowly walks in. It’s clear he’s feeling the same way. He awkwardly stands at the end of my bed, unsure of where to put himself in the room. Nerves have taken over my body’s ability to function. My hands begin to shake.
The last thing I want is for him to see that I’m nervous. Slyly, I sit on my hands to prevent the shaking and to prevent myself from doing something stupid. Like touching him.
“Can we talk?”
I nod again.
Good lord, Sawyer. Pull yourself together.
“You can sit down,” I say, gesturing at the end of the bed. The mattress dips and memories of what we did in this bed flood my mind. Hands on skin. The way he made me feel. Loved. Cherished.
He looks at me like he’s thinking the same thing. The thought sends shivers down my spine.
“I have some things I want to say.”
My stomach drops and the need to vomit is imminent. By the grace of God, I don’t up-chuck my dinner and manage to make a noise, signaling him to speak. This is it. I can feel it. The end of us. No more limbo.
“I’m sorry,” Henry starts, his gaze connecting with mine. My eyes begin to sting and tears start to build. I hold steadfast, pushing back the tears. He may break my heart all over again, but I won’t cry. I make a valiant effort, but the tears fall anyway.
Goddamn gravity.
Henry's eyes widen in shock, and he extends his arm out to touch me, then pulls back. Almost like he thought better of it. The action crushes another piece of my heart, and another tear falls.
“Sawyer, sweetheart, why are you crying?”
Even the question causes me pain. The gentleness in his tone. The endearment I no longer have any claim on. This whole thing is more than I can handle. I thought I was strong enough to hear him say it, but I’m not.
“Please, just—just tell me.” A few tears turn into streams down my face. The sooner he ends this fully, the sooner I can cry into my pillow and fully mourn.
He looks at me, face full of concern, but nods. He inhales a deep breath, then looks me in the eyes. His eyes are full of conviction.
“I love you.”
Uh…what.
That’s an odd way to start a break-up speech.
“For years, I’ve loved you. When I told you how I felt, I lied.” My heart begins to race but he doesn’t allow me to get worked up. “I didn’t want to scare you with the depths of my feelings, but I don’t want to live another second without you knowing. Sawyer, I love you. I’minlove with you. And I have been for a long time. Since the moment we met, you've taken my breath away—captivated me—with your beauty and kindness and how you walk through this world with such optimism.”
I choke out a sob and the tears come on strong. I clutch onto a pillow in front of me for dear life. I can feel that small kernel of hope lodged in my chest. Slowly beginning to expand.
“I thought about what you said, about worrying I only love you because I hate myself less when I’m with you. That couldn’t be farther from the truth.”
He moves from where he’s sitting at the edge of the bed towards me. Holy shit. I have no idea what to do or where this is going or how to act. My skin is on fire and my heart is moving a mile a minute. Slowly—giving me time to tell him no—Henry sits down next to me, grabbing my hand and lacing our fingers together. Our palms meet and fireworks explode in my chest. I missed touching him. He places our hands in his lap and continues.
“The truth, Sawyer, is that being around you—being your friend—has made me a better person. A kinder person. Someone I’m proud of when I look in the mirror. I love you because you encourage me to be that man. You cheer me on and inspire me. But you’re right. I spent a long time believing my worth was tied to how I played on the field, and that’s partially from my father. But it's partially because of me. Because I chose to see myself that way, to allow my anxiety to take hold and make it worse, but I’m done with that. I refuse to continue belittling myself because I dropped a pass or because I messed up a play. So, instead, I’m choosing a newer, better version of myself. And every fiber of my being hopes you choose that version of me, too.”
The once small kernel expands in my chest, taking over my whole body. I stare into the deep, blue eyes I love so much. With his other hand, he cradles my face and I lean into the touch, savoring the gentle love he pours into it.
“Because if it came down to it, Sawyer, I would give it all up in an instant. The games, the fans, the money. I thought I was nothing without football. I was wrong. So wrong. I am nothing without you. The last three weeks without you have been the darkest days of my life. You’re my lighthouse, Sawyer. When I feel lost in the sea of my thoughts and can’t seem to find my way back, you shine like a beacon, guiding me home.”
I sit there next to him on the bed.
Stunned.
Speechless.
