Chapter 29
Austin
My appointment with Victoria is in person, and I wish I had my computer to hide behind. Gray offered to come with me, but I feel stupid, like there’s something so wrong with me that I don’t have control over myself. Coming alone is one step toward regaining control.
Her office has beige walls with a few colorful, abstract paintings. There’s her desk, desk chair, couch, and a club chair.
I plant my ass in the club chair, word-vomit my love for Grayson, my intense panic attack, my shame epiphany, and his theory about why it happened.
I explain how I tempted fate, and it kicked my ass. The darkness reared up and took me down without warning after I was sure it was gone.
She doesn’t show any outward signs of surprise. “You’ve been holding in a lot, and I appreciate your trust in me. What are your thoughts on Grayson’s opinion?”
“I don’t know,” I confess.
“Let’s take a step back and talk about shame.”
It doesn’t take me long to go over my experiences, and she asks a few follow-up questions.
“You said he fears you coming out might negatively affect your mental health?” she asks kindly.
“Other people on my team have done it. I won’t be the first, and I want the team to know I support them,” I say, but my tone is sharper than I intended.
“You can only support your team if you come out?” she challenges.
“No, but they’ll trust me more,” I say, and she taps her steepled fingers together.
“You mentioned your parents won’t appreciate the scandal of strangers talking about your sex life if you come out. What would’ve happened if you had come out while you still lived in their house?”
“I wouldn’t have,” I say without hesitation.
“Why not?”
“They wouldn’t have believed me and would have taken me to the church for redirection. Shamed me.” The truth of the statement physically hurts.
“How often were you told to quiet down or behave?”
“Daily.” I swear they wanted a silent son, and hockey saved my sanity.
“Tell me how you expressed your joy or anger at home.”
Memories flash through my mind of my father’s reproachful look and my mother shaking her head. All the air leaves my lungs. “I didn’t. I learned to hold everything in.” My mind finally makes the connection. “Grayson’s probably right.” I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
“Your opinion is more important. Before you leave, let’s talk through your reasons for coming out and the possible consequences.”
By the time my appointment is over, I have more questions than answers.
Gray has a late dinner ready when I get home. He hugs me and sticks one of the notes he found to my chest. It says I can’t remember anything without you. He doesn’t push me to talk, and we eat in silence at the counter.
When we’re done, he takes my empty plate and kisses my head. “I love you.”
“How come you were never mad at me about your knee injury?” I blurt out. It might be projection, but he could harbor anger toward me.
“What?” He stops short in the kitchen with our plates in his hand.
“It was me and Smith who hit you.” I brace for his reaction, never understanding his willingness to forgive me.
He sets the plates on the counter and rounds the island. “If you tell me these last ten years have been based on your guilt…” He trails off and chews the inside of his mouth. “Please tell me that isn’t the case.”
“No!” I shout in horror and per Victoria’s instructions, I don’t mute my response. “You were my best friend for years before that happened.”
He closes his eyes and sighs. “Did you ever watch the hit? I have it on video.”
“You do?” I’m shocked, and unsure if I can watch it.
“It’s somewhere in the cloud.” Gray digs his phone out of his pocket and scrolls and scrolls. It takes him forever to find it. “I’m casting it to the TV so you can see it on the big screen.” He stands next to the TV mounted on the wall and uses the remote to slow the video down.
“Here it comes. You hit me, I’m fine. Smith smashes into my other side…
and watch my feet… There, that’s where I felt it.
” He stops the tape. “But I made it far worse.” He starts the tape, and on it he tries to stand, collapses but keeps trying to get up.
“If I had stayed down—like everyone told me to—I probably would’ve been able to play again.
I panicked and thought if I could stand up, everything would be fine.
I did so much damage to my knee putting my full weight on it. Have you felt guilty all these years?”
“For lots of reasons,” I admit.
“There’s a punching bag in the building gym.
If I can find my old gloves, we’re going to beat it to a pulp.
” He doesn’t wait for my answer and retreats to his room for his gloves.
He comes out holding them in triumph. “Me and punching bags go way back. They don’t talk back when you get angry and yell at them. ”
I change into sweats and hand him some of my workout gear even though his clothes are available. Sue me for wanting to watch him in my joggers as I follow him down to the gym. It’s a reprieve from prying eyes since it’s empty. I couldn’t vent in front of anyone else.
“Watch and learn.” Gray pulls the gloves on and squares off with the punching bag. “I hate feeling helpless when Tinny’s darkness overtakes him.” He punches and sends the bag swinging. “I hate causing him stress.” He pounds it again as it swings back.
I catch it and hold it steady for him as he yells his frustrations at the top of his lungs. When he’s done, he wipes the sweat off his brow with his forearm.
“Your turn.” Gray strips off the gloves and hands them to me.
Part of me maintains that this is ridiculous, but I punch the bag. “I hate being clueless about my own mind.”
“Good start but I want you to send the bag flying, with or without a declaration. Focus your fear on the bag and get angry.”
He steps back, and I dig deep to find the box I keep locked inside me and fling it open as I hit the bag.
My mind wants to go blank, but I sit with all the things I’ve kept pent up. My throat gets tight, and I’m burning up from the release I’ve never allowed myself.
I yell at the top of my lungs and punch with all my might, pouring out my anguish until I’m ready to collapse.
“I hate that I got to live our dream and you didn’t.” The gloves thump his back as my arms wrap around him. His familiar smell immediately slows my heart rate.
“I know.” He holds the back of my head and hugs me to him. “The dream had to change, but we’re still together, and look at us now. Neither of us would’ve predicted this.”
“Teenage Austin would’ve run far, far away from you. He was a coward.” I wipe my cheek on his shirt.
“Nope. You did the best you could, and so did I. Trying to rewrite the past will only drive us crazy. Now we’re a team. You and me.”
“Forever.” I let go to kiss him.
“Forever,” he agrees.