She shook her head and continued to look right at him, taking in every facial feature from his sad eyes to his pouty lips.
He sighed. “It was a gut-wrenching loss. I had completed over seventy percent of my passes right down to the last ten seconds.” He peered into her face, straining to see if she was listening. “Are you following me, Jessica? Do you understand football terms and logic?”
She nodded quickly, unable to speak and gave him her full attention. Tim’s eyes were nothing but black circles staring back at her, and his knuckles were white from his intense grip on the chair.
“I had a chance to win the game. A chance to be a Super Bowl legend and win Super Bowl MVP.” He ran his hand through his long locks and kept his breathing steady. “I was a key player, paid to perform, and I failed in an instant. This is very hard for me to talk about…”
Jessica perked up with a question. “Did you hurt someone during a play? I don’t understand.”
Tim sighed dejectedly. “I don’t expect you to understand and no, nobody got hurt during the game… but me.”
Jessica wanted to console him but wasn’t sure how. She still didn’t know why this beautiful giant sitting in her home had left his world behind because of a football game. Mind you, it was the epic Super Bowl, so it probably was more heartbreaking. But not so much that you would leave your whole career behind and become a gardener.
“Football games are won and lost every year, Tim. Help me understand why this particular game was so hard on you. I know it was a Super Bowl, which isamazingin itself. Oh my god! But one of the teams had to lose. Why did this loss make you want to run away and hide?”
“It’s difficult to explain, Jessica. I let my team down. I let the franchise down. I let the state of California down. Do you know what it’s like to receive death threats? To be the butt of all jokes? To be the most hated man around? None of the players ever blamed me. They kept reinforcing the message on television and radio broadcasts that it was a team loss. But I knew better.” He stood and paced in front of her. “The fans are the ones who suffered the most. And it was all because of me.”
Jessica stood and went to him. She wasn’t afraid anymore, feelings of empathy and pity traveling straight to her heart. It was as if her heart finally recognized his.
She brought her hand up to move his long hair away from his face, her fingers lingering on his cheek. “I know the kind of loneliness you must have suffered losing so much. I do.”
Tim bowed his head and nodded.
“But I want you to know, you can trust me.”
He nodded again and clasped her hand in his, leaning them against his cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t upfront with you before, about my real name. About who I really am. I should have known better because you have children.”
“It’s okay.”
“I need this conversation to stay between you and me. I don’t need everyone in the neighborhood gawking at me while I’m working if this gets out.” He brought their hands down to his side.
“Why a gardener? If you were an NFL player, don’t you have money? Couldn’t you retire and not have to work?”
Tim led her back to the couch, and they sat down still holding hands.
“Yes. I tried to ‘retire’ in California, but I was inundated with death threats and basically lived in a fishbowl. Everyone gawked and pointed at me everywhere I went. I thought it would die down after a couple of weeks, but it just didn’t let up. I became a prisoner in my own home. I needed to get away. I needed peace and quiet.” He paused, looking down at their intertwined fingers. “I hung out with my sister Tabitha in Malibu for a few months. She was the one who suggested I go far away for a while until things died down.”
“You have a sister?” A surge of love poured through her, so happy for him.
“Yes.”
“And you chose Atlanta?”
“Yes. I’ve been here many times and have always loved the city and the weather. It was nice not being recognized. I was able to breathe for the first time in months not having to look over my shoulder or have the paparazzi seek me out.”
Jessica shuddered as she tried to imagine that kind of scrutiny. Her insides buzzed, realizing Tim was an NFL celebrity who probably banked millions and millions of dollars. The very thought took her breath away. How dare she judge him for what he looked like or what he was doing presently. How dare anyone mock someone as kind-hearted and thoughtful as Tim McGill—or Tim Ryan.
“I met Mr. Martinez, you know, the guy who owns the landscaping company I work for, while I was out picking up some weed killer at the local nursery and we struck up a conversation. He was intrigued that I spoke Spanish so fluently and asked if I could help translate a big landscape deal he was working on. It kind of snowballed from there. I only work part-time, but it’s helped keep me busy.” He ran his thumb back and forth across her fingers. “He’s the only one in the south who knows who I really am. Him and now, you.”
Jessica nodded, the overwhelming awareness that only two people in the state of Georgia knew his true identity. It wasn’t a burden on her conscious; more of a relief.
“I’ve healed, mostly. I have good days and bad. But there’s an ache in my heart when I think about living out in the open again. My chest feels hollow, and the agony of reliving that defeat will never go away. I coveted alone time out of the spotlight my entire career. I guess I got it.” He turned his body toward her and squeezed her hands gently. “I’m sorry, Jessica. I don’t want this secret to be a burden on you, but you needed to know the truth. Can you forgive me?”
Her eyes widened. “Of course. There’s nothing to forgive, Tim. And for the record, it’s not a burden. I’m glad you opened up to me.”
“I want you to look me up online. I want you to watch the playbacks and see what happened for yourself. I think that’s the only way you will understand all of this.” He laughed. “Everything I’ve told you tonight sounds like a crazy person made it up. Maybe I do belong in the nuthouse.”
“No, you don’t,” she reassured him.
Their eyes locked. “You’re too sweet to me.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Promise me you’ll go online before we see each other again.” He suddenly stood up.
“Wait? You’re leaving?”
“It’s late, and I know you have babies to get to bed.” He pulled Jessica up to her feet, and they embraced. “Get in touch with me in a day or two and we’ll go from there,” he whispered into her ear.
Jessica gripped the back of his t-shirt, unsure if she could let go of Tim McGill. Unsure if she was ready to let former NFL football quarterback Tim Ryan in.
