THE FUTURE
LAKE
Dr. Feltz kickedCage out of the ICU that afternoon and told him to take his following with him—in the nicest way possible. A number of players’ wives and coaches’ wives reached out to me offering their support, letting me know Cage would most likely try to distance himself from me while he dealt with the physical and emotional ramifications of his injury.
Cage? Nope. When someone loves you so completely, it’s almost heartbreaking. Cage Monaghan loved me like that. Being loved and trusted unconditionally by him was one of the greatest honors of my life. We didn’t need generic wedding vows that promised love in sickness and health. The day he arrived in Beijing something unspoken passed between us—something that said we would always go to the ends of the earth for each other.
“Home.” Cage grinned as Rob and Flint walked beside him to the door, just in case.
After seven days in the hospital, he was released. Surgery was still a possibility to fuse two of his vertebrae, but we had second, third, and all the way to twentieth opinions to get before he would consider “going under the knife.”
One day.
One step at a time.
“Okay…” Cage sighed as he sank into the leather sofa “…everyone can leave, at least for a few hours. No offense, but I’ve been fussed over for a week straight, and I just want to not be the center of attention for a bit. Okay?”
My family left three days earlier. Brooke and Rob sent the girls home with Cage’s grandparents two days after the accident so they could get back to school. Therefore “everyone” was Flint, Brooke, Rob, and… me.
Brooke gave him a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll grab some dinner and run to the store to restock your fridge.”
“Thanks.” He returned an appreciative smile.
“I’ll call you in the morning and let you know your schedule.” By schedule Flint meant his doctors’ appointments and therapy appointments.
“Thanks, Flint.”
After everyone else left, I jabbed my thumb behind me, not having any clue where I was going to go. “So… I’ll just… um…”
“Lake?”
“Yeah?” Wringing my hands together, I smiled.
“Get your ass over here.”
“But you said?—”
“What I said was code for ‘Get the hell out of here so I can be alone with my Lake.’ Now, take off your shoes, ditch the leg if you want, clothing is optional and actually quite discouraged.”
I laughed. “I think your eyes are bigger than your appetite. It winded you to walk from the car to the couch. Your balance is still a bit off. Yet… you think you can handleme?” I sat nextto him.
He lifted his arm over me, but even that looked like its own feat. “Handle you, finger you… your choice.”
“Shut up… how can you be so chipper?”
“Well, there’s you. I’m above ground. I can walk without an ‘exoskeleton’ of Thad’s. I have a Super Bowl win and an MVP trophy too. And now the pressure of that life is gone. I can work my ass off to recover, marry the woman who owns my heart, and spend the rest of my life knocking her up.”
I scooted to the side to look at him. “What do you mean the pressure of that life is gone?”
His brow furrowed. “I’m… not playing again.”
“What? The doctors… your coaches… all the talk has been about what it will take to get you back on the field. That’s why they’ve arranged for a million different opinions from the best doctors in the country. When did you tell them you’re not playing anymore?”
“I haven’t. I’m telling you now. I’m telling you first.”
My jaw hung in midair.
“You can’t possibly want me to play again.”
