Because I lost my focus. Because my relationship wasn’t as perfect as I thought it was.My girlfriendwasn’t as perfect as I thought she was.
I’ve been angry because I failed to hold onto perfection. Not because I failed to hold onto mygirlfriendof eight years.
Isn’t it?
It was never about love between us; she’s right.
What we had was bigger than that.
What we had was convenience and an innate need for perfection, and I’m only now realizing this.
Eight years later.
Eight years and I finally get it.
Eight years and her jarring me out of my focus, to understand that it was always about being perfect in every aspect of my life.
It was always about being The Blond Arrow.
Even now I’m more broken up about the fact that I didn’t get to play out the season than the fact that I don’t get to live with her. I’m not even jealous, am I?
No, I’m not.
I don’t even miss her.
In all this time that I’ve been angry over her betrayal, not once did I mourn the loss of her.
I laugh again, and this time it’s more tired than sharp. More exhausted.
Unclenching my fingers from around the bottle, I set it down on the table.
“A?”
For a second, I’d completely forgotten that she was here. I’d completely forgotten that she was waiting for me to speak and when I still don’t say anything, she grasps the lapels of my suit jacket – another reason why I hate going to these things, suit jackets.
“Are you leaving? Did you hear anything that I said to you? We are –”
I grab her wrists, her dainty feminine wrists that I can break very easily if I want to. But instead of it giving me a thrill like it used to, I find it… too convenient.
Too easy.
“I did. I heard every word.”
“But –”
“You said it was convenient and you’re right.” I clench my jaw, flexing my fingers around her hands. “Everything about us was convenient and easy. We match each other on every level and we should get back together.”
She smiles.
But her smile vanishes when I let go of her wrists and step back once again.
Once and for all.
“But look around you, Sarah. You’re surrounded by ambitious people. This whole team is ambitious. I hear Rodney, one of the half backs? Is a real up and comer. Not to mention, he’s single, and I overheard the guys saying that he likes brunettes. I think that’s pretty convenient, don’t you?”
Her face ripples with anger, with shock. “What has gotten into you? Why are you behaving this way?”
I chuckle humorlessly, feeling hollower, emptier than ever. “I believe the correct term is asshole.”
