Page 121 of Play Me
When I don’t answer her, she releases a breath that sounds like it’s been held in her chest since the accident. It’s long and cold, frustrated and angry—and ready to move on. I get that. That’s why I’m here, too.
If it weren’t for Astrid, I wouldn’t have had this conversation with Liza. I would’ve lived with the unknown and guilt for the rest of my life and been satisfied with the punishment. But Astrid makes me want more for myself so I can give it to her.
When I look into her beautiful green eyes and see the pain buried in them, I know I can help.I want to. Sometimes it feelslike it’s my reason for being on this earth. But I can’t do that if this part of my life still feels like it’s seeping puss out of an infected wound.
“Will you clear up something for me?” she asks. “Not that it matters now, but it’s something that I’ve always wondered.”
I look over my shoulder at her.
“Were you and Caroline dating when we flew in that night?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
She plants both hands on the white blanket and stares at me. “It matters to me.”
“No,” I say, wandering around the room. “We’d broken up. I’d broken up with her, to be exact. But you know Caroline—she’d fight tooth and nail to get what she wanted, and she claimed to want me.” But that wasn’t true. Maybe at one point it was, but it wasn’t at the end. “I told her not to come, and when she called from the airport, I sent her to voicemail. I had no idea you two flew in or that you were going to drive through a snowstorm to get to my house.”
Liza nods, as if she’s waiting for me to drop a bomb that she suspects is lurking behind the scenes. I look up at her, and our gazes connect. I don’t have to say anything.
Her face falls. “I knew it.”
“She was stealing money from me to buy her drugs,” I say, my voice hollow. “And if I didn’t keep cash around and kept my cards on me, she’d pawn my shit. She stole my teammate’s cash once when he came over to work out. She was out of control.”And nearly ruined my career after rumors started swirling that I was an addict, too.
“Dear God.”
“I got her to go to a rehab. Remember that trip she took to Florida?”
“Yeah. I knew it.”
“I did everything I fucking could, Liza … except I didn’t tell you.”Which just might be my greatest failure of all.“When I finally broke up with her for good, I told her that I was going to call you. She promised me she was breaking the news to you because she was moving into your house. Was that a lie? Half the shit she said was a lie at the end. Was it easier to believe her?” I shrug. “Probably.”
She lifts her chin, tears clouding her eyes again. “And should I have trusted my intuition and prodded her about it? Absolutely. But I didn’t. Caroline was so good at making you believe things, and I fell for it.”
Yeah, I know. That’s how I fell for her.
“I should’ve handled things better,” I say, swallowing past a lump in my throat. “I could’ve helped her more. I could’ve answered that fucking call. But I was being selfish like I always am and?—”
“Don’t.” She glares at me. “Don’t act like you’re selfish, Gray Adler. How much money have you paid for my bed in this rehab center?”
I look away, the band wrapped around my chest threatening to snap.
“You say you’re selfish,” she says. “But you somehow found out that my insurance denied rehab after my first surgery, and you set up a blind trust, and paid for it anonymously.For two years.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “I never could have afforded the care if it hadn’t been for you. I might not have walked again, or fed myself, or brushed my teeth. But you, Mr. Selfish, made that happen for me without wanting any credit for it.”
She weeps again, tears forming streams down her cheeks. I cough, sniffling back emotions that I don’t want to handle right now.
I had no idea this would be her response. I was sure Liza hated mebecauseof the accident. I came to see her in the hospital a week after the wreck, and she screamed at me to leave and never come back. So I didn’t. But maybe I should have.
“Why did you decide to come here and see me?” Liza asks.
I shove my hands in my pockets. “You asked me to, and I thought it was the least that I could do for you.” I pause, nibbling my bottom lip. “And I was hoping I could find some closure. I’m … I’m tired, Liza.”
I’m tired of fighting for myself. I’m tired of feeling so hollow, feeling so bound … yet so utterly alone.
She holds her arms wide, and I hesitate before sitting on her bed again and letting her hug me. The contact breaks me. I cover my face with my hand and cry quietly, relieved to have found some relief from the guilt that’s crushed me for so long.
I may never be able to get closure from my parents’ death, but it is easier to internalize. If my father couldn’t make it, I sure as hell wouldn’t have done him any good. I just would’ve died beside him. That might’ve saved Mom, but she would’ve never been okay again without Dad. I know, in the deepest part of my heart, that Mom would’ve chosen to go out just like she did—in the middle of the night in Dad’s arms.
“I’m sorry,” I say, sniffling as I sit upright. Liza offers me a tissue, and I take it from her. “I feel like I let you and Caroline both down, and I’m sorry.”
