Page 44 of Love Me Steadfast
I cross the distance to the table, drawn by William’s hushed tone and his inability to look at me. Like he’s…ashamed? “Makeswhatworse?”
His cheeks flush. He swallows, but the bob of his Adam’s apple looks painful. “The headaches.”
Cold fear prickles the back of my neck. My thoughts spiral. Is Will sick?Please don’t let it be that.Not now, when two of the most important people in my life are fighting to survive.
What if I lost William? I rub my forehead, trying to compose my thoughts. “Explain. Now.” I’ve forced the harsh words past my lips so they rip loose like a demand, but I can’t help it.
The stark vulnerability in his eyes makes my breath catch. “It’s why I quit playing ball.”
The colors of the room swirl in my periphery, like I’m trapped in a tunnel. I sink into one of the chairs. There’s so much to unpack from this, but I need to pull on this thread first.
“Music causes you…pain,” I manage.
“Some kinds do, yeah,” he says in a soft voice.
A hot ache splashes like a burn across my chest. This hurts worse than breaking his heart.
Music is the one thing in my life I’ve always been able to count on. When everything else went to shit, music was my safe space. It gave me hope, patched up the cracks in my heart, and gave me the strength to rebuild my life. And now, he’s telling me that I can’t ever share it with him again?
Why did he buy The Limelight, knowing full well that running it would be hazardous to his health?
I blink back the hot sting at the edge of my eyes. “An injury?”
“A lot of mild concussions that added up over time.”
This is why he’s not playing for the NFL. “They forced you out?”
He shakes his head, his jaw set. “I chose to leave.”
My emotions erupt like a lightning storm inside me. I’m angry on his behalf—that the sport he so loved and for which he had so much talent only betrayed him in the end. And I’m sad for him because making that choice must have been the hardest thing he’s ever done…and I didn’t even know. Did he have to make it alone? Were Zach and Sofie and the Huttons there for him? Did they grieve with him? Support him with their love and kindness? Was he terrified to walk away? To start his life over without football?
The tears I tried to stuff down well up so fast I can’t hold them back. I swipe them away, frustrated with myself. He’s the one who lost something. He’s the one who should be crying, not me. “I’m sorry that happened to you.” My voice breaks.
He steps closer and squats down so we’re eye to eye. “I’m grateful I got to play for as long as I did, and with such talented athletes and coaches. I got to travel, and earn a college degree, and push myself harder than I thought possible. Football gave me a path forward when my life seemed pretty dark. I wasn’t ready for it to end, but I couldn’t risk staying even one more day.”
“But you loved football.”
“I did.” He wipes my tears with his thumbs, the thick, calloused pads rough on my hot skin. The kindness in his touch brings back so many painful, beautiful memories of us that my chest tightens trying to keep it all inside. “But at the end of the day, it’s only a job. It doesn’t make a life.”
I gulp down a breath. He sounds so…okay with it all…but there must have been pain, even anger. Did Zach coach him through it? “Is there anything you can do?”
“Besides avoiding three-hundred pound linebackers pounding me into the turf?” He gives me a good-natured shrug. “I did some neuroplasticity exercises with a specialist, but I don’t know how much they really helped. Spending time outside and trying not to get too stressed out has probably helped just as much.”
“And avoiding music.” A sharp ache twists inside my chattering heart.
“Not all of it,” he corrects.
“I’ll help.” How can I refuse him now?
His eyes tense with a look I can’t read. “Not out of pity. Please. Do it because you want to.”
Here’s that pride I remember. It shouldn’t hurt this much that I can’t comfort him, but there’s a flicker of heat unfurling at the base of my core. I know what it means, but I’m not ready to face it. “I want to.”
He stands and offers me his hands. I stare at them while my emotions crest inside me like a storm surge. When I slip my fingers into his and let him pull me to my feet, a wave of hot prickles rolls down my spine. Old feelings clash with a warning not to let this change anything between us.
But I think it’s too late for that.
Chapter Fourteen
