Page 104 of The Proposal
Finally, his hand drops to his side, and he raises his gaze to mine. “Has Renn said anything to you about my physical?”
I bolt upright. “No.Why? What’s wrong?”
He blows out a breath. “I’m fine. Okay. Let’s get that out of the way.I’m fine.”
“You’re reiterating that a lot for someone who is fine.”
My heart pounds so hard that I feel dizzy. I search his face for any indication that he’s lying and try really,reallyhard not to shake him until he explains wherever he’s going with this.
He shifts in his seat. “To make a long story short, I’ve been told I should retire.”
“What? Why?”
“There is a study I joined a couple of years ago to learn more about head impacts on athletes. It’s a data-gathering project. But when I had my scans as a part of my physical, I showed signs of neurological damage.”
My hand flies to my mouth. Tears fill my eyes.
“I’m fine, B.” He touches my knee. “I’d tell you if I wasn’t. Remember, this is a study. They don’t know anything for sure.”
“But enough that someone thinks you should quit rugby?”
He nods slowly.
“And you quit, right?” I blink back tears, my mind racing. “Tell me you put in your resignation.”
“Blakely …”
I scoot to the edge of the sofa and twist to face him. Adrenaline spikes through my veins. It’s matched only by the hysteria building inside me. “You’re quitting.”
“I wanted to talk to you about it—”
“You’re quitting.” Tears break the dam and spill down my cheeks. They’re hot and salty as they cross my lips. My voice cracks. “You’re all I have, Brock. You can’t risk it.Please. Don’t do that to me.”
I fight the sob as it climbs up my throat. But it’s no use.
He pulls me into a hug, rocking me back and forth like our mother used to do when we were little.
Memories of our life with her roll through my mind, duller than they used to be. Less vivid. Mom’s voice less distinct.
Making homemade ice cream on hot summer days. Building forts in the living room, using every blanket in the house. Watching her sitting proudly as she watched Brock graduate from high school.
The hole in my heart from the loss of our mother is as gaping as it was the day she passed. Imagining adding Brock to that wound is unbearable.
I pull away, wiping my hands down my face.
His eyes are watery—something I’ve only seen on him once before. It breaks my heart.
“I’ll quit,” he says softly.
I take his hand.
He smiles sadly. “I’ve tried to talk myself out of it, telling myself I only have two years left on my contract. That it’s a lot of money to turn down. That the odds I’d get hurt are pretty low …” He sighs. “But I can’t do that to you. I know I can’t anyway.” He sniffles, the sound transforming into a laugh. “Ella is pregnant.”
“What?” My voice is a shriek, and I spring to my feet. “What did you say?”
“I’m gonna be a daddy, B.”
“Oh. My. God!” I bounce on the tips of my toes, laughing. “Brock! When is she due? How long have you known? Why did no one tell me?”
