Page 145 of Begin Again Again

Byron reached for his glass. “Nah. Shit happens.”

“Yeah, tomorrow you can try again.”

“Begin again, again.”

Derek frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.”

They clinked glasses and drank. It tasted like hot velvet.

“So,” Derek said. “You’re in a bit of a state.”

“Yeah, not every day you meet someone you like, decide to make it work and then they fuck off to Perth.” It stung to talk about it so lightly. But it was either that or cry, and he wasn’t topping this day off by crying in front of Derek.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know. I feel like everything’s falling apart.”

Derek’s gaze became hard. “Look, we both know you weren’t doing that well before Beth showed up.”

“If this is about that night the girls were here…”

Derek sat back on the couch, eyebrows raised. “I’m listening.”

Byron swallowed the big sour ball fighting its way up his chest. “I… fucked up. I was bitter. I was being a cunt. I shouldn’t have let them into your room when you weren’t there. And when you told me they took your watch, I shouldn’t have laughed.”

Derek folded his arms across his chest. “You could have laughed. But you shouldn’t have put me in that position. You’re supposed to be my mate.”

Byron looked at the carpet. “I’m sorry. I did you wrong and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

They both drank, Byron with a lightness he hadn’t felt before.

“I’m sorry you can’t play anymore.”

Derek said it so quietly, Byron leaned in, sure he’d misheard. “Huh?”

“I was a shit friend. I should have asked you about it more. I should have gone to the club and—”

“There’s nothing you could have done.” Byron’s face burned as he took a big swallow of port. “My leg’s fucked. They weren’t going to rehab me again. I was done. Iamdone.”

There was no sympathy in Derek’s flat black-brown eyes, only miserable certainty. “Yeah. You’re done.”

A chain unlinked inside Byron, releasing something he hadn’t realised he was holding onto. “You don’t know how big a favour you’ve just done me.”

“I haven’t done anything. Ididn’tdo anything.”

“You were honest. No one else wants to tell me the truth.”

Except Beth. He shoved the though aside.

“That’s my worst nightmare,” Derek muttered. “Doing an injury like that.”

“I know.”

He looked at him. “Iknowyou know. We spent our whole lives training, trying not to fuck ourselves up. We watch guys flame out—their whole career gone in a second—and we pray we’re not next. Then youwerenext, and you were gutted, and Iwantedto talk to you, but just thinking about what happened to your leg…”

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