Page 55 of Always Mine

“Something orsomeone?”

I cock a brow, looking up at where he’s towering over me. “Aren’t you perceptive?” And nosey as hell.

His eyes are knowing and his lip kicks up on one side as he assesses me. “I originally wanted to be a psychologist, so I read people well.”

“Pretty big jump from one profession to the other. What made you change your major?”

He thinks it over, pausing his massage to level with me. “How about tit for tat? You tell me your story and I’ll tell you mine.”

Ugh, no. That’s exactly what I don’t want. “My story will take up twenty years worth of time.”

He purses his lips as if to say I have the time. He’s not wrong, but I really don’t want to hash everything out right here, and to my physical therapist no less. “So how about the cliff notes version then?”

I’m about to decline, but what’s the point? Maybe having an unbiased point of view is what I need right now.

I groan, propping one leg over the other as I try to figure out where to start. “Well, long story short… I was with the same guy my whole life.Literally. We were best friends from the moment we were born. Grew up together and did everything together. When middle school rolled around and everyone was interested in girls and dating, I realized I was only interested in him.” I pause to gauge Dr. Dylan’s reaction. While I haven’t dealt with a whole lot of homophobia over the years, there is always a chance it’ll happen because people are assholes.

“Go on,” he tells me, lifting my arm and rolling it around.

Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly before continuing. “Luckily for me, he felt the same way and we became official. Not that it really surprised anyone because we were always closer than normal friends. Honestly, our relationship was a romantic friendship even before I understood what that meant. He was my best friend, my go-to guy, the other half of me… Fast forward a few years, we get through high school and I’m preparing for college. My dream was always to play football and Wyatt’s was to stay here. Even though our goals were different, it never deterred our relationship. We always had it in our minds that we were going to be together.”

Until everything went wrong.

“And…”

I snort, dropping my arm from his hold and shooting him an over-the-top glare. “Hold on, Mr. Impatient. I’m trying to get my thoughts in order.”

“Well, you’ve got me on the edge of my seat here. I don’t do well with cliffhangers.”

You and me both.

My mind goes to that week before Christmas when I got my offer letter from California State. I remember how excited I was, but also miserable when I realized how big of a distance it’d put between Wyatt and me. I was sick over it for weeks and couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone until almost a month had passed. Wyatt was sad but never once was he not supportive. When the shock and devastation died down, he was thrilled for me. The opportunity was something I couldn’t pass up and he knew it, too.

I blink, pushing away the memories clouding my head before clearing my throat, and then I unfold and refold my legs, trying to get comfortable. “Then I got my offer letter for college. It seems stupid now, but in my head, I think I always pictured I’d get accepted to play ball close by. It never dawned on me that I’d be pulled across the country.”

“And you were.”

“And I was.”

He whistles, pushing and pulling my arm to stretch it out. “That’s gotta be tough.”

“It wasn’t at first… until it was.”

The night before I left runs through my head, almost knocking the wind from me. I can see it all so vividly like it happened yesterday. His tear-streaked face, angry scowl, and the way his whole body vibrated as he broke apart in front of me.

I hurt him. I hurt us both, all because of my fear.

“So, I take it you guys aren’t together anymore?” Dr. Dylan asks, pulling me from my head once again.

I have to stop doing that.

“We’re not, and we hadn’t seen each other in over three years. Then I busted my arm and had to come home—”

“And now here he is, in your face, making you question why in the hell you broke up to begin with?”

I freeze, glad to see he gets it. “Something like that. Are you sure you’re not a mind reader?”

His brows lift in amusement. “I’m not, sadly. Just familiar with this story. My first girlfriend and I had a bad breakup. It’s been years, but I don’t think I’ll ever get over it…. There’s a saying about the first love being the one you never really move on from.” He shrugs. “I think there’s some truth to that.”

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