So much for being professional.
"Yeah, I heard about that stunt from Bjorn."
"I suppose you're calling because you also got the news that Xavier's agent—ex-agent—is a total shyster and scammer? Xavier's devastated. He wants more than anything to come play for you here in Boston, but now he's convinced that Tony screwed him over. Please tell me there's hope?"
There's a beat of silence that's just long enough to let my heart drop to my feet.
"This is a very tricky situation now. There's no love lost between myself and Vinny Camacho, but the league has very stringent rules about trades. Not to mention they don't look favorably on pilfering between teams."
"But it's not pilfering. The Terrors guy hates Xavier, I think because of the mess with the guy and the guy's daughter back in England. But Xavier never got to tell his side of the story. He would never put anyone in danger, and there's so much more than you know. Camacho won't play Xavier, and he's trying to end his career. Isn't there anything we can do to help this trade actually happen?"
That was perhaps a bit more rambling and desperate than intended, but if this guy has a heart at all, maybe he'll listen.
"Oh, but there's one more thing you should know. Tony told Xavier to get married to expedite his citizenship. However, and it should come as no surprise at this point, Tony doesn't know his ass from his elbow, and even though we totally got married, it's not going to help. The law doesn't work that way. So Xavier's still British. I mean, he'll always be British, obviously, but he's not, like, an American citizen yet."
"Well, then my hands are tied until March. I'm not saying we won't trade for him then, but until then, there's nothing I can do."
"Nothing?"
"No. And, this needs to stay quiet. Xavier cannot handle another scandal on his sheet. Pulling a stunt like getting married and trying to orchestrate a trade with a shady agent is bad enough, on top of the Jones incident. If heeverwants to set foot on the soccer field again, he's got to keep his nose as clean as they come."
I'm so glad I didn't post that last ClikClak.
We disconnect, and I have the overwhelming urge to vomit. None of this is good for Xavier. I probably shouldn't have talked to Robert Miller and tried to help.
Add this to the list of stupid things I've done in the name of love.
Chapter 36: Xavier
Well, I certainly have made a terrible mess of everything. It's bad enough to totally botch my own life, but now I've pulled Ophelia smack dab into the middle of it.
If the thought of never playing football again didn't make me feel like I was removing my own intestines with a salad fork, I'd pack my bags and head straight home. Not that there'd be a home for long without my financial support.
The whole thing has me gutted, and I don't know what to do. Ophelia's place is too small to get a proper mope on, not to mention I can barely look at her. I've gone and ruined her life for nothing.
But I had to go jump the gun and give up my Baltimore place as well. My eagerness has always been an issue, on and off the field. It's led to more than a few yellow—and even red—cards as I've been too excited to charge a player for the ball.
I did the same thing now.
This time, a red card won't suffice. My career is done. My parents are probably going to literally lose their farm. All their birds will probably die because they can't survive in the wild. I'll be responsible for a mass avian execution. But worst of all is that I conned Ophelia into marrying me. I know it was her idea and all, but she did it for me.
Forever, she'll have to explain to someone how she married a bloke she didn't even know and that it wasn't a real marriage.
But of course, we did have to go and sleep together, so she can't even say there wasn't anything between us. Not that there is.
But not that there isn't, either.
And now my head is pounding.
It's been pounding for the past week since I left Ophelia. Every time I looked at her, I felt sick. What was I supposed to say? How exactly does one apologize for ruining one's life?
Flowers don't seem to say enough.
There's not a proper greeting card to express this sentiment either.
She's been a rock star though, researching law and loopholes. She's found no answers yet, but I appreciate her effort. She texts me frequently, often with pictures of the cat.
I've resorted to responding with emojis, as I can't always come up with the words right now.
