I grab my backpack and unroll a stack of documents onto the bench, studying the numbers and weighing the options. I cross out some figures, rework others and add notes to myself in the margins. Since I have nothing else to focus on but football, I want to be sure that I’m paying attention as Phillip and his team negotiate the best terms for me. I’m not going to be one of those players who has no idea how to manage his finances and ends up broke in five years. I’ve worked too hard for this. Plus, this takes my mind off of my misery.
But despite my best efforts, I can’t keep my thoughts from drifting back to Kaya. I want to scream. I want to hit something and break it. But I can’t allow how much I miss her to take control. Instead, I’ll just continue to push myself harder, throw myself into practices, lifting weights and running drills until my muscles burn with exhaustion and I’m too tired to think about her.
One of the veterans on the team pulls me to the side. “Hey, Brick, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Diesel is a Nighthawks legend and I can’t ignore a request from him no matter how much I want to just hit the showers and wash the day away.
“I’ve noticed that you’re practicing with a level of intensity that isn’t productive during an off season.”
“Just trying to put some work in, so I’m ready for the season.”
“Today feels like something darker, though. Something desperate. Are you working through some more personal things?”
I know everyone’s seen the video of me beating up my best friend at his own damn wedding and they probably think I’m on the next train to crazy town. How do I explain my behavior? I can’t. They’d never understand.
“I’m handling it, D.”
“Are you? Because I’m worried that you’re going to push yourself to a breaking point if you don’t figure out a healthy way to work through whatever is going on with you personally. I’ve been there, man, if you ever want to talk.”
“No, I’m good.”
Joyce texts me that she and Phillip want to have a virtual meeting on Zoom tonight to discuss some finer points of the contract, but I’m not in the mood.
Can we zoom at nine tonight?
I’m still going through the numbers.
We can discuss them.
Maybe tomorrow.
You said that yesterday.
Tomorrow.
While I’m determined to put the pain of losing Kaya and Kyle behind me, my dream team is taking advantage of the fact that I’m so focused on contract negotiations. The more I make, the bigger their cut, but I’m just not up for it right now.
The difference between 100 and 110 million doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things when I can’t use the money to build a life with the woman I love.
“Fuck!” I bang my fist repeatedly on the lockers, frustrated by everything. I really want to reach out and talk to her, to tell her how I’m feeling and ask her why she’s given up on me.
It’s terrible to say, but I would have fought Kyle ten more times if it had guaranteed that I would end up with Kaya. Why doesn’t she feel the same?
Then I remember how she looked at me that day on the beach. Her eyes were almost vacant of emotion. I’ll never forget it. She made a hard decision that day and I came out the loser.
The coach and Diesel catch my outburst. “Take the week, Brick. I don’t want to see you back here until you clear your head. You don’t have that shit handled and I won’t have you bringing that negative energy to the practice field. We’re trying to create a positive culture for the new guys coming to the team this season. Remember, we picked up that kid Freak in the draft. He’s going to be a beast.”
“I hear you. Sorry about today.”
I pack my things up to leave.
“And Brick–” Diesel adds.
“Yeah?”
“If this is about a woman and you love her, life is too short to spend dwelling on who’s right and who’s wrong. Ask for her forgiveness if you did something. If she’s the one who did something, forgive her.”
“That simple, huh?” I scoff.
