I stare at the screen, chest aching. I realize I have fallen in love with my brother’s best friend.
You don’t get to be gentle with my body and brutal with my heart. The reverse would be preferable.
I turn the phone facedown and let the tears come, knowing—too late—that loving Matt doesn’t protect me from losing him.
TWENTY-FIVE
MATT
Dialysis is easier the second time.
I know what to expect. My nurse eyes my tattoos as she hooks me up to the machine, but her shy, understated manner puts me at ease. She wears thick, Coke-bottle glasses and Pokémon scrubs and has a smattering of freckles. It’s a nerdy look, but maybe she has kids that love anime.
Kids. Noelle. Baby.
I’ve checked my phone at least two hundred times since I sent her the apology text, and she hasn’t responded. Part of me thinks, “Good for her.Don’t take shit off any guy.” The other part is desperate to hear her voice. I should have just told her about my eye injection, dialysis, and needing a kidney within the year. But I’m an asshole, which is why I haven’t dated recently—until her.
Okay, I know it started out as fake, but Noelle has not only wrapped her legs around my waist but also spread her butterfly wings around my heart. Our relationship isn’t fair to her. I have to cut it off permanently. Theproblem is I don’t want to. Or maybe I already did without saying it. Maybe that’s why she didn’t answer my text.
The nurse comes by to check in and hands me the television remote. “Thought you might want to watch the spelling bee,” she jokes, turning my frown into a smile.
“What gave it away?”
“I did a little research and figured you would want to watch the sports network.” She grins and makes her way to another patient.
My smile curls upward. This is how I should have talked with Noelle. Been supportive and brought some levity to her situation. I look at the remote, tap Guide, and scroll down to the network Noelle works for.
To my surprise, after only fifteen minutes, they go live from the New Orleans training camp. Her hair is down, falling over her shoulders in waves, with a microphone in hand. “Thanks, Joel. New Orleans linebacker Stu Johnson has had a rough off-season. His little girl was diagnosed with Usher syndrome, causing hearing loss. Johnson has worked tirelessly to raise money for other kids with the disease, but he and his wife have also spent time learning sign language so they can communicate with their daughter. Watch the excerpt, then tune in tomorrow for the entire documentary.”
I know Stu. He played on the defense for the Kentucky Stallions when I was a quarterback coach there. He’s one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet. I make a mental note to watch the full version as I look up Usher syndrome. Sometimes we think we’re the only ones with problems, but everyone has something they need to deal with, and it makes me want to rip these tubes out, fly to New Orleans, and apologize to Noelle in person—especially when I read that Ushersyndrome may be genetic and if both parents have the gene, the result is one in four pregnancies will have the disease.
That must have been hard for Noelle to hear and process, knowing she’s pregnant and wondering what all could go wrong.
I put on my big-boy pants and call her, but it goes to voicemail. I don’t leave a message, but after the third time, I do.
“Noelle, um... hey. I’m sorry about my reaction when you told me about the baby. I don’t want to leave it… I mean us. I don’t want to leave us the way we did. Have you told Brooks yet? I’m here if you need a shoulder to cry on or a person to yell at. God knows, I deserve it.”
I sit for a moment, wanting to say more, likeI realized I’m falling for you, but that’s not fair to her. Finally, I hang up, finish my treatment, and head back to the facility. J.D. catches me and asks how dialysis is going and says that he told Sutton. “She’s the boss and needed to know.”
“I know. I’ll talk to her. I’m headed to Greyson’s house on Sunday.”
“Good. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Oh, and G said the fake dating situation with Noelle is over. That’s good too.”
Good for whom? You? Greyson? Their dad?
I nod ever so slightly. Because the fake part is way over. But is the relationship? It should be, but I’m so damn selfish that I’ve found a person so caring, so fun-loving, so stunning, that I’m having a hard time letting her go.
TWENTY-SIX
NOELLE
Sound bites. That’s how I’m judged.
Finding that story that may be thirty minutes long and breaking it into a sound bite that will hook viewers in an instant. Then they’ll come back to view the whole story.
Stu Johnson sits across from me on a folding chair in the locker room, helmet resting at his feet, sweat darkening the collar of his jersey. There’s nothing flashy about him. No nerves. No performance. Just the calm steadiness of a man who’s been doing this long enough to know what matters and what doesn’t.
When I ask about longevity—what keeps him grinding through another season—something shifts.
