But Simon’s words—his anger, his disappointment, his ultimatum—were a boulder on my heart. And the guilt nearly had me keeling over in the morning. My knee was healing, or damn close to it, but the rest of me was a fucking mess.
It wasn’t just my career that hung in the balance. It was my best friend. The only real friend I’d ever had. And the only woman I ... loved.
I turned the thought over again. IlovedRio.
Always had, in some capacity. And now,becauseit was so different than anything I’d ever felt before for anyone, even her, I knewthiswas love—she consumed my every thought, every piece of my heart, my entire body.
If beingin lovemeant being inside love, then I was deep in it with her, and I couldn’t even pinpoint when it started.Because maybe, in some way, I’d been in it with her all along. Since that very first moment.
But no matter how I looked at it, I was going to lose something.
For the first time in my life, I had more to lose than I knew how to handle.
And I was causing collateral damage all over.
Leaving her asleep, I sat down to breakfast with Walter.
He was nicer than usual, which was strange, but I didn’t question it. It helped. Especially since, outside of Simon and football, Walter was the only other constant in my life.
The view of the ocean on the way to my appointment settled in me. Britain was an island, and I’d played in Mediterranean countries before, but I’d never been this close to the sea on a daily basis. Here, it was everywhere. Right outside my balcony. A few steps away for a jog. In the air, in my lungs, always there.
A reminder of how easy it was to take something for granted—until it was gone.
“I’m not paying by the hour, so you can stick to shorter sentences and tell me what you really think.” I leveled my gaze at the doctor, arms crossed as he flipped through the reports on his desk.
“Your scans look good.” He looked up. “Your physiotherapist says you’re working hard. With continued effort, you might be cleared for play.”
“Might be? I need percentages.”
“I can’t commit to those, but I’ll be happy to discuss it directly with Dr. Magnus. And Sir Alec if need be.” He went on to brag about two famous past patients.
Need a shovel for all the names you just dropped?I wanted to ask. Sir Alec owned Westbridge and one of the names he dropped had referred me here.
Standing on the sidewalk next to my parked Rover, I threw my head back and inhaled deeply.
Overall, this was good news. This was what I had worked for.
So why did I feel so fucking hollow?
I should have been relieved. And part of me was. But another part—the twisted part—was almost glad that no team had reached out. That no contract had landed on my lap. That, so far, I was spared making a decision. As for my own team, I figured they didn’t need a thirty-seven has-been when they could sell my contract to a lower-level club and get a young, promising star for the same amount.
I’d kept my eyes on the literal ball for so long, that I lost sight of everything else. And for a moment, it felt like I had more. That it was possible to have more than I had ever dared to dream of, that I couldletmyself have more, and that ‘more’ would want me, too.
But in true Owen Wheaton fashion, I’d found a way to fuck it up. Because whatever I did—whoever I tried to protect—I’d end up disappointing someone. Rio. Walter. Simon. Definitely myself.
What the hell was I supposed to tell Rio when I still had no idea? And Walter?
Simon would be the only one glad to hear the hopeful news. And not for the right reasons.
So I decided to keep it to myself for now—not just the knee, but Simon’s ultimatum.
Because I loved Rio too much to put that weight on her shoulders. I knew she’d feel responsible if my friendship with Simon came to an end. And if that, in turn, damaged her relationship with him—I couldn’t bear it.
Because it wasn’t her fault, her responsibility.
It was all mine.
I wouldn’t ask her to choose between me and the people she loved.
