But I can’t fix what I don’t understand.
I look out the window toward the guest house. The lights are still on, but the curtains are pulled tight, and I imagine Sutton moving around inside, probably pacing like I am. Is shecrying? Is she angry? Is she afraid? I have no fucking idea because she won’t let me in.
My phone rings, startling me. When I see it’s Sebastian, I answer the call.
“Hey,” I say, my voice rougher than I expected.
“You sound like shit,” he says bluntly.
“Thanks. Really helpful.”
“I’m serious, Shep. You took a massive hit today. You should be resting, not stressing about?—”
“Don’t,” I warn him. “Don’t tell me not to worry about her.”
He sighs. “That’s not what I meant. I just…” He pauses. “Look, we’ve never seen you like this over anyone before.”
“Because there’s never been anyone like her before.”
The words hang in the silence between us. I’ve never admitted that out loud, not even to myself, but it’s the truth. There’s never been anyone who’s gotten under my skin the way Sutton has. Who’s made me feel this desperate need to protect, to cherish, to…love.
“I know,” Sebastian says finally. “I can see that. We all can.”
“I’ve never felt so powerless, Seb. Not on the field, not in my life. I can read defenses and make split-second decisions under crushing pressure. I can take hits that would level most men, but I can’t figure out how to reach the woman I love when she’s shutting me out.”
“You really love her.” It’s a confirmation, not a question.
“More than anything,” I say softly. “And I’ve got no idea what to do with that right now.”
“Give her time,” Sebastian says, his voice gentler than usual. “Whatever Brannigan said or did, it’s clearly triggered something and she’s processing it.”
“What if she doesn’t come back from it? What if whatever he said makes her leave?” The fear that’s been gnawing at mygut since we left the stadium finally has a voice. “What if this is it? What if I’ve already lost her?”
“Then you fight for her,” Sebastian says simply. “But smartly. Not like some caveman beating his chest.”
I laugh despite myself, then wince as my ribs protest. “Noted.”
“I mean, what could he possibly tell her that would make her run?”
“Honestly, I have no fucking clue because I have nothing to hide so whatever he might say about me would be a goddamn lie.”
“Right, so the hope is that she’s smart enough to see through him because she knows you. Whatever it is, she’ll know he’s lying. In the meantime, you should get some rest, Shep. Doctor’s orders.”
“You’re not that kind of doctor,” I remind him.
“Close enough. I’ll check on you tomorrow.”
After we hang up, I find myself standing at the kitchen window again, staring at the guest house. The lights are still on so I know she’s awake. Part of me wants to march over there right now and beg her to talk to me. Instead, I force myself to get a shower. I stand under the spray for longer than I should, letting the water pound away at my aching muscles, washing off the grime and sweat from the game. My mind keeps drifting back to Sutton, to the way she looked in that hallway.
Like she’d seen a ghost.
Like something inside her had broken all over again.
Like she was already somewhere else entirely.
I cut the water off and step out, wrapping a towel around my waist. The mirror shows me exactly what I already know; dark bruising spreads across my ribs, an angry purple-red that will look worse tomorrow. I press my fingers gently against it, testing, and hiss at the sharp pain that follows.
It’s nothing.
