“Jeff, from the?—”
“Don’t even say it, I won’t go to the minor leagues,” I sighed.
“Well, it would keep you in the game and you might be called up if you play well enough,” he said.
“You and I know that’s like a one in a million chance,” I grumbled.
“You can stay a free agent until December,” he suggested.
“I know, but what are the chances?” I sounded whiny.
“I’ve seen it. Stay in shape, you never know. Injuries always happen and you might be able to swoop in,” he said, like it happened all the time.
Did I want to constantly be on the edge of my seat waiting for someone to call me up? I loved hockey, it had been my life for the last eight years.
“Ok, keep me as a free agent, but once December hits, I’ll be retiring,” I said, already giving up hope.
This was the longest shot, and I think we both knew this was the end of the line for me.
“I’ll keep you posted, kid,” he said, already sounding distracted. “Don’t stop working on yourself and getting better.”
“I won’t,” I said before hanging up.
I leaned back on my sofa, attempting not to cry. My PT had been going a lot better, but after the second surgery I knew that this was going to hurt my chance of getting signed. But if I didn’t get the surgery, my mobility was going to be fucked. I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t.
Fuck. What the hell was I going to do with my life now?
I had been in Sterling Ridge for almost two months, and I was no closer to talking to Jude than I was when I got here. Everything had been so much harder than I thought it was going to be. Just getting out of bed most days felt like climbing a mountain and all I felt like doing was sleeping. I had no drive to do anything, my life was not going how I had expected and I felt like a failure who couldn’t muster the nerve to talk to his best friend.
Most days I barely had the energy to talk to Forest and that's because he forced me to. Even though I glared, seeming mad at him, I was grateful for him. I would barely leave this house or talk to anyone if it weren’t for him. He was the main reason I didn't stop going to PT or why I made an appointment with Atlasto check on my incisions. One of them had been bothering me and I knew I needed to get it checked, I had just been putting it off.
Fuck, I couldn’t even go to the doctor without someone pushing me to do it. My life went from everything I had wanted and more, to rock bottom in less than six months and those voices I spent years running from were starting to come back.
Worthless. Lazy. Dumb. You will never amount to anything.
I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath, trying to think of anything else. My phone rang and I jumped at the sound. Fuck, it better not be my Agent Miles telling me some stupid shit. I froze when I noticed Jude’s photo on my screen and then quickly hit the green button.
“Hello,” I answered, dropping the phone. “Fuck. Hold up. Don’t hang up. I dropped my phone!”
I bent down grabbing my phone, praying he didn’t hang up.
“Jude?” I said, realizing the phone was upside down and turning it around immediately.
“Sam?”
“Hey.”
“Hi. How…How are you?” he asked, sounding nervous.
I wished he would just keep talking and I could just listen. It didn’t matter if he was getting mad at me, I missed his voice, and it eased a part of me.
“I’m—” I stopped because I wanted to lay it all out there, but I knew it wasn’t the time. “I’m ok. Are you ok?”
“I’m… I’m ok. How’s the knee?”
Jude needed something. I could tell from the tone of his voice, but he was nervous. I didn’t know if I should be happy or sad that this was the reason he had reached out.
“Shit, but it’s better than after the first surgery,” I said, trying to keep my tone light.
