She doesn’t move as I sit there, hoping and praying we’re not too far gone. Hoping we’re not too broken to fix.
“I… miss us,” she says, and my eyes fall closed, hearing her voice break.
Because I miss us, too.
“Even before the injury, things were hard, West. And sometimes, I can’t help but to wonder if we’re…”
My stomach twists when her voice trails off, filling in the hole in her statement with words I refuse to hear leave her mouth.
She shakes her head slowly, and I hate that I’m to blame for her sadness.
“I get that you’re having a hard time, but I’ve been saying for months now that I think we need help, West. I—”
I let her wrist slip from my grasp and lean deeper into my seat with a sigh.
“Fine,” she exhales. “If you don’t want to hear what I have to say, don’t tell me you’re ready to talk.”
“No, Iamready, but with everything that’s going on… that’s the last thing I need to hear right now. There isn’t a fucking counselor on the planet who can fix my shoulder, and that’s the main issue.”
“That’s the main issue?”
Once again, I wish I could take my words back, shove them back down inside because I can’t seem to say any-fucking-thing right these days.
“You know what I meant,” I grumble.
“You’re right. I do,” she says with a nod. “Our marriage has been unraveling for months now, evenbeforeyou got hurt, but somehowthat’sbecome our biggest issue.”
“I’m not saying my shoulder or evenfootballis the most important thing, I’m just saying the stress of it isn’t helping.” I hold my elbow close to my body with my free hand as I scoot toward the edge of my seat. “Blue, I don’t even know if I can play anymore. I don’t know if my last game was seriously my last game, and the thought of not being able to take care of you like I want to take care of you… it scares the shit out of me.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me, West. Us being together hasneverbeen about that. Honestly? Sometimes, I wonder if we wouldn’t be better offwithoutmoney. Maybe then we could focus on fixing the things that actually matter.”
I’m silent, biting the side of my lip, fighting back words that will probably only piss her off more than she already is. But damn if I don’t have a lot to say.
Like how I work hard day in and day out for her. Yes, I love football, love the competition, but wanting her to have the best life possible is what drives me. I know what life was like for her growing up, and I’ve made it my mission to give her everything she desires, but now she’s saying she wishes we had a different life? Like what we’ve built doesn’t matter?
“What?” she says with a sigh. “You’re clearly holding something back, so just say it.”
I continue holding my tongue, because I know better. She accuses me of not wanting to hear the truth, but she doesn’t like it either.
So, my response is a grumbled, “Nothing,” and I leave it at that.
“See?” she scoffs. “This is the shit that keeps us going in circles instead of making progress. We go around and around the same issues, because we never actually deal with them. How can we fix this if we don’t actually say what’s wrong?”
“Fine, you want me to say it?”
“Yes! All I’ve wanted for months now is for us to talk these things out, West. For us not to be afraid to say what’s on our minds, so we can start workingtogetheragain, instead of against one another.”
I take a deep breath, fighting everything within me that says this is a bad idea, and then I just… say it.
“Sometimes I think you want this life, but you forget all that comes with it.”
She doesn’t speak as she crosses her arms over her chest.
“You love this house, love that I’ve been able to fund the center, love that we have stability and want for nothing, but you hate that there’s a dark side to this shit. Fame comes with criticism, and our names getting dragged into shit, and things that should be personal becoming a punchline. You can’t have one without the other. Which means we’ll have to weather some storms most people won’t have to weather. And honestly? You keep bringing up counseling, but counseling won’t fix my shoulder, it won’t help us start a family, and it won’t make people like Ira and Pandora mind their own damn business. You want to talk aboutwhat’s really wrong with us?That’s the shit that’s really wrong with us. We’re broken because we’re trying to have it all, trying to be perfect and life doesn’tfuckingwork that way, Blue.”
My chest rises with every deep breath I take, and I already regret being so honest. I’m worked up because my emotions are raw.
She’s completely silent, but her eyes are fixed on me, and I don’t miss the sheen of tears pooling in them now.
