He laughs again but not as heavily this time, more of a depressed laugh. “I’ll make sure and tell the team dietitian my wife says I need carbs for energy.”
“There’s a whole drawer of forks over there, Ryland. Don’t tempt me.” I point to the drawer in question as I walk to the couch ready to spend a night playing video games. My attitude doesn’t show it, but every time Ryland calls me his wife, I gush a little.
I turn on the television, but Ryland’s phone rings and I mute the background music of the Dragons Reborn entry screen.
“Hey, James.” Ryland answers the phone call from his agent and sits beside me on the couch. It’s silent for a few minutes on his end, but his face carries an array of emotions.
Eyebrows narrowed in question. One slightly raised in intrigue. Both eyes wide in surprise. His nose scrunched up with a line forming on his forehead when he finally speaks.
“Are you sure? Would it be a long-term agreement or until the season ends?” Ryland asks. “Yeah, I’d sit down and talk with him. Honestly, James, there’s not another team I want to play for, but I’m worried about the players’ feelings on the matter."
He’s quiet again until a small chuckle starts. “Yeah, that’s because Obreski’s an asshole. I didn’t do anything every other player on the team wished they did.” Now it’s easy to figure out he’s talking about the goalie he hit. The final straw before the general manager kicked him off the team.
Other than the goalie issue, the rest of the conversation goes over my head. I have no idea what team Ryland wants to play for. He hasn’t made any preference known to me over the last few weeks besides not staying in the US.
“What time is the flight out?” Ryland checks his watch. “Yeah I’ll make that. I’ll meet you in New York.”
We’re going to New York? Soon by the way he hangs up the phone and stands from the couch.
“Good news, Marissa.” His words don’t match the scowl on his face. “Luis, the forward who took over my starting spot, twisted his knee in a game earlier today. The media reported it as not as serious as it actually was. The team’s trying to cover it up.”
He takes a breath, his body still vibrating with energy, and I’m confused. “Luis getting hurt is a good thing?”
“Well … no. You never want to see an injury. It’s not his fault I did dumb shit and he got my spot. That’s on me.” He stops to think for two seconds. “Luis isn’t the point. He’ll be out for a while with this injury and management wants to reinstate my contract for the remaining years.”
“That’s great.”
“I’ve dreaded the idea of ending up on another team. United is in my blood, I belong in England. If I have to play soccer again, there isn’t another team I want to do it with. It’s why I’ve hesitated on the other offers.”
“The other offers?” This is news to me. Earlier tonight he said his agent hadn’t had anything concrete lately.
“Nowhere worth mentioning.” He waves off my question as I follow him to the bedroom. “I need to fly to New York tonight, meet up with James, and then we'll go on to England together.”
His actions and words are rapid as he grabs a small suitcase from the closet—one he finished unpacking yesterday. “How many days should we pack for?”
All his movement stops with my question as he stares at me. “No, you need to stay here. You have work.”
“Ryland, it’s Friday. I have two days off.”
“Marissa, it’s not a quick flight like Vegas,” he answers like I’m stupid and don’t know where England is. “And it’s probably best I don’t bring my new wife along. The media hasn’t been nice to you.”
His words sting like a hot poker straight to my heart. Now with a chance to play for his old team again, is he already regretting our marriage?
“You don’t want me with you?” I choke the words out.
He stops throwing random clothes into his suitcase and turns to me. “Kitten, of course I want you there. I want you every step of the way with me from here on out, but my return to England could go badly with the fans and teammates. I want to keep you away from the toxic parts of the environment for as long as possible.”
“You can’t hide me from it forever, Ryland.” I cross my hands over my chest and glare at him.
“Trust me, I know. Sooner or later you’ll be bombarded by it. I want to keep you clean from the muck for as long as possible. The media’s tarnished every good thing I've done. Winning a championship, they talk about the one error or missed goal for the whole game. They’ve twisted our marriage into a publicity side show. Let me deal with whatever they come up with this time.”
His sweet words heal the gaping wound in my chest. I’d rather be with him, but I understand Ryland needs to do this on his own. I start to fold the few pairs of shorts and random t-shirts he’s thrown in his bag.
“You’ll need underwear.” I call out to him as he enters the walk in closet.
He pops his head back out the door. “Why am I even packing a bag? All my good clothes are in England. I’ll use the big carry-on you took to Vegas. Which closet is it in?”
“You want to take my big purple sparkly bag to England with you?” I ask pretty sure he’s confused by the excitement.
He walks out of the closet his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck no. You’re right the media would have a field day with it.”
Ryland continues to throw random pieces of clothing at me to fold while he works out a schedule with me so I’ll be home waiting for his call every night. When he decided I’m that kind of girl, I’m not sure.
“And whatever you do, don’t move a single thing from your apartment this weekend.”
“What?” We’d set aside tomorrow as a full day of moving. My anxiety spikes causing my muscles to spasm. Now he doesn’t want my stuff here.
He stops when the room goes silent and grabs me by the shoulders. “Stop freaking out, Marissa. I don’t want you to lift a thing because I want to help move every piece. It’s going to be okay.” He tries his best to reassure me but my heart still pounds in my chest with worry. “I’m going to call you every night and I'll be home as soon as everything is figured out. I promise.”
The conversation continues as Ryland empties the bag on the bed repacking it with a single pair of basketball shorts, a shirt, one pair of socks, and clean underwear. A few toiletries go in as well and he reassures me everything else he needs is already in England.
