“Yeah, it is.” I don’t think I realized just how lonely I was in Seattle until I was back here with my two best friends.
My teammates were great, but there was always something missing. But here, I feel whole. Like that missing piece of me has found its home.
“I wish I could have my sister here,” he confesses quietly. “I miss her.”
“It sucks being so far apart from family. I bet she’s proud of you, though.”
“Yeah,” he mumbles. “She couldn’t come to our last few games. I wanted her in the crowd like she used to be.”
“That’s okay. She didn’t need to see us lose in person.” I try to say it lightly, but the crushing disappointment and the weight of fucking up that night makes it hard.
“She wouldn’t have cared. She never cares if I win, just that I get to live out my dream.”
“That’s sweet. She sounds awesome.”
I swear a choked sob erupts, but he quickly covers it with a cough. “Yeah, she is. But what if she doesn’t get to see me play again?”
“Of course she will. And I don’t want to put myself out of a job, but you’ll be first line before you know it, and she’ll be so fucking proud.”
He grunts but says nothing else.
I glance over at him every few minutes to find his eyes closed again, and his mouth turned down at the corners.
I want to ask more, to find out what’s really eating him. But also…I’m not that guy. I don’t worry about other people’s issues. Hell, I can barely deal with my own. But there’s something about Monroe.
Before I can talk myself into offering to listen to whatever he’s going through, we arrive at his building.
While we might not be all that far from Bea’s place, this area is nicer, his building a little more maintained.
“We’re here,” I say, but Monroe doesn’t so much as flinch. “Monroe,” I shout. “We’re here.”
He sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes fly open, and he sits forward in a rush. “Fuck,” he gasps, his chest heaving.
“It’s okay, man,” I say, reaching over and squeezing his shoulder.
He hangs his head, pain radiating off him in waves.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I said but?—”
“It’s okay,” I repeat. “Whatever it is, we’re all here for you. You need us, you call us, yeah?”
When he looks over at me, his eyes are full of unshed tears.
He nods once before throwing the door open and jumping out.
“Careful, you don’t want to—fuck,” I breathe when his legs buckle beneath him and he crashes to the floor like a baby giraffe. “That’s going to hurt in the morning.”
“I’m okay,” he tells me as he climbs to his feet. He pulls his keys from his pocket before waving at me as he shuffles toward the entrance.
I sit there staring at the door he disappeared through way longer than necessary. I need to go home, but I can’t ignore the two other options that spin through my mind.
32
BEATRICE
Istand on tiptoes in front of the only mirror in my apartment in a lame attempt to see all of me.
It’s pointless; I can only see down to my waist. But it’s enough to tell me that my body is not as it was the last time I wore this dress.
