With no personal life, I am sure I can achieve it.
No one will compare to Ian, so I’ll embrace singledom for good this time.
TWENTY-TWO
IAN
Breathingthrough the onslaught of emotions, I mentally tread through the debris she left behind. How the fuck did I get here? In this place where I don’t have her at all.
One thought blares in my head—make her see reason.
Her stubbornness doesn’t match my determination. But when I open my door, I find the lily on my doorstep. It couldn’t be clearer that she wants the cut—one severing my heart from my chest—to fester.
I know she feels the same. Damn it, I get it’s scary, but together I thought we could find a way. I guess I was wrong.
Plucking it from the floor, I curl my hand around it. When I open my fist, the delicate flower is scrunched and bent just like my hope.
I stare at her reply, gripping the phone hard enough that it might crack under the pressure.
Fuck. Raking my hand through my hair, I slam the door shut, pacing around and trying to collect myself before I head to the gym.
The loft doesn’t feel like home without her. She became my home. Now she has just removed herself and left me despondent.
Nothing has ever hurt like this.
I squeeze my eyes shut as if wanting to blind myself to the agony. When I open them, I dab at the corners of my eyes, wetness coating my fingertips.
Dropping on my ass, my back rests against the door. I throw my head back, hitting the hard surface repeatedly. It’s nothing compared to the onslaught of pain spreading through my insides.
How did we go from me being with my flower girl to my woman just deciding I’m not worth it? I could talk with her, but she’s made up her mind.
She wants to believe I am a reckless loser who would gamble us by being with other women? Fine. What else can I do? Force her to take me back? The result would be the same. I’d lose her, anyway.
When I am somewhat in control of my emotions, I pick up my phone. It’s intact and not showing any signs of me losing it.
I am supposed to meet the guys at the gym. With my luck, Coach Parker will be there too.
If he is, how am I going to look him in the eyes knowing I love his daughter, and I lost her mostly because of him. Something else must have transpired for her to completely retreat. But she’s right. I can’t pretend to be just her friend when I want to be her everything.
The drive to the gym does nothing to ease the fist of emotions lodged between my ribs, making it hard to breathe. Fuck you, love. I have done fantastically fine without you. And if we’re at it, fuck you, universe or whoever put her in my path, but decided she can’t be more than a pit stop and not my destination.
No, I refuse to accept that. What were my chances of becoming a pro football player? Slim, according to stats. Yet, I did it. I have the endurance and the patience.
This is not the end, it’s a hiccup. I am used to losing some games to win the important ones. This is no different.
Feeling a bit more hopeful as I enter the locker room, it vanishes when Coach Parker glares at me. I see the disappointment etched in his frosty expression. He’s used to Roman being the one in the press, not me. But come on, he’s had a beef with me since he found out I befriended his daughter.
I greet him, wishing to tell him she might be his daughter, but she’s my woman. Not now, but soon.
“I see you enjoyed your vacation.” He pins an angry stare at Roman and then looks back at me. “Some partied even more than usual. Ian, I misjudged your intentions with my daughter, but those pictures made me realize you really are just friends.”
I clench my jaw hard enough that it might break. He knows shit.
“She needs friends. You’re a good guy.”
I nod, afraid that if I open my mouth, I will growl.
I am a good guy, but apparently not good enough to date his daughter.
