She fists her hands at her sides. “So this is the end?”
End. Yeah.
End of an era.
An eight year long chapter of my life.
An eight year long relationship that never should’ve been and all I feel is relief.
“I think so, yeah.” I jerk my chin at her then. “Good luck with Ben. Rodney. Whatever.”
“And what are you going to do?” she asks with venom in her voice. “Find someone like me to love? Someone who doesn’t distract you from your precious game and your goals?”
Love.
Is that what she said? That I’d find someone tolove?
Something moves in my body. Something that eats up my short-lived relief. It’s not the usual shame, this thing. It’s not my skin crawling. It’s not even anger.
It’s something else.
Something more violent, more visceral.
Something fundamental.
Painful, even.
Something that’s sitting on my chest, pressing down on my ribs.
I clench my teeth and tighten my body against it before replying. “No. You cured me of that, actually. Because you just made me realize something about myself.”
“What?” She folds her arms across her chest, the very picture of perfect outrage.
“That a guy like me knows nothing about love.”
A guy like me who measures his life with the goals he scores and the trophies he wins, who lives his life in the pursuit of perfection, who takes eight fucking years to realize the truth about his relationship, has no idea what love is.
The Blond Arrow has no fucking clue what love is.
The pain in my gut jacks up and I almost grab the railing to keep myself standing. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from her and I will, in a second.
Because I remember something.
Something that I want to say to her.
“Oh, and one last thing.”
She goes alert.
“Your sister…” I pause and Sarah’s eyes turn malicious, leaving me to wonder if this is the first time she’s looked so ugly at the mention of her sister or has she always looked this way.
I wish I knew.
I wish I hadnoticed.
“What about her?”
“She’s a hell of a soccer player.”
