Chapter 40 #2
I saw the other players exchange glances as we filed into the changing room, but no one was brave enough to say anything. Even Asher maintained his distance, though he kept throwing worried looks in my direction.
I headed straight for my locker, my jaw tight, but my steps faltered when I closed in on the bench.
That was where Brooklyn and I had sat during her last day at Blackcastle.
I’ll be back Tuesday. It’s not like I’ll be gone for a year.
Four days without you is a long time, buttercup.
Getting needy already, DuBois?
I always need you.
My heart twisted. I’d give up my left arm to go back to a time when a few days of separation was all we had to get through.
Brooklyn left two weeks ago, yet I saw her everywhere—on the pitch, in the canteen, behind my closed eyelids when I went to sleep at night.
I smelled her perfume on my pillows and heard her voice calling my name when I walked through a crowd.
Her presence haunted me, and even though she was only a call away, I felt every inch of the four thousand miles separating us.
I finished showering and getting dressed in record time, but Coach stopped me before I could leave.
“Let’s talk,” he said. It wasn’t a suggestion.
I followed him to his office, too numb to argue or even worry about the tongue-lashing I was sure to receive after my fuckups today.
He waited until the door was closed before he spoke. “I miss her too.”
My gaze flew to his. That was the last thing I’d expected him to say. “What?”
“Brooklyn,” he clarified. “I assume she’s the reason you looked like shit at training today.”
I grimaced. “Was it that obvious?”
“Only to everyone and their dog.” Coach leaned back in his chair. “So, let’s hear it. What’s on your mind, besides the fact she’s in Chicago and you’re stuck here, living in a hotel with that gloomy new bodyguard of yours?”
“That’s it,” I admitted. Coach didn’t tolerate players who brought their personal problems onto the pitch, but Brooklyn was his daughter.
Maybe he’d understand. “There’s nothing else.
I’m the one who encouraged her to go, and I’m glad she’s safe, but I just…
miss her. It’s fucking with my head. I know I need to shape up for tomorrow’s match, and I will. Today was just a bad day.”
The intruder hadn’t reared their ugly head again, but if and when they did, at least they couldn’t get to Brooklyn.
Now all I had to do was get my shit together, as Coach would say.
He sighed. I’d anticipated more yelling, but he sounded surprisingly sympathetic.
“That’s normal. I expected you to feel that way, or we’d have a problem.
I can’t tell you how to handle a long-distance relationship, but as your coach, I can tell you that you can’t let that shit affect your focus.
If Brooklyn knows she’s the reason you’re messing up on the pitch, do you think she’d stay in Chicago? She’d be on the first flight back.”
I swallowed. I hadn’t thought of it that way.
“Like I said, I miss her too. She’s my daughter,” Coach continued gruffly.
“But not letting her absence impact your performance is the best way to get through your separation. You can wallow off the pitch as much as you’d like.
But when we’re in that stadium, or any other stadium, you have to bring your A game.
Use the situation to your advantage. Take all that frustration and channel it into the game.
Control your emotions. Don’t let them control you. Understand?”
I nodded, my throat tight. “I won’t let you down.”
“Good.” He dismissed me. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I returned to the changing room, where Seth finally worked up the courage to approach me.
He’d really come into his own since he first joined the club, and I was glad to see he was becoming more comfortable with the players.
During his first month as kit manager, he could barely look any of us in the eye.
“Some of the players and I are headed to the Angry Boar soon,” he said tentatively. “Do you want to join us? It might take your mind off…you know.”
I shook my head. “I have a call with Brooklyn later, but thanks for the invite. Have fun.”
“Okay.” He looked a little disappointed, but he didn’t pressure me into going. “Say hi to her for me.”
“I will.”
I grabbed my duffel and headed for the exit. Spike was waiting for me in the corridor. We walked to my car, which he’d upgraded with new armored protection, and we drove back to the hotel in silence.
We hadn’t bonded much since I hired him, but he’d been the most competent candidate for the job. I normally tried to befriend everyone I worked with, but I was okay with the current state of our relationship as long as he kept the intruder at bay.
Spike did a customary sweep of my suite before I turned in for the night. Once he gave me the all clear, I locked the door, and he retreated to his room next to mine.
I checked the clock. It was eleven in the morning in Chicago. I still had some time left before our scheduled call during her lunch break.
I checked my emails while I waited. Lloyd had sent me the final Zenith paperwork, but I left it unread. I was too exhausted to comb through legal documents at the moment.
Instead, I indulged in the unhealthy habit of scrolling through old photos of Brooklyn and me.
Us kissing beneath a sprig of mistletoe during the holidays.
Us posing on Tower Bridge like tourists, our arms wrapped around each other’s waists.
Us curled up on her sofa, her head on my shoulder as we grinned at the camera.
A familiar, pervasive loneliness stole through my chest. As much as I loved my team and my sister, they weren’t a substitute for Brooklyn. She was the only person who made me feel whole, and her absence left a hollow ache where her presence used to be.
We talked every day, either on the phone or via text. We video called each other whenever we could, though our work hours and the time zone difference meant that didn’t happen as often as I would’ve liked.
I was committed to making it work long distance. Even if she moved farther away to the West Coast or even Hawaii, I’d still find a way to be with her. But fuck, I ached for her more than I thought I ever could.
I checked the time again. Half an hour left until her lunch break.
I scrolled through my phone’s album again and paused on a photo of us at Asher and Scarlett’s holiday party. It was one Adil had taken of us kissing. Everyone around us was cheering and laughing, and we looked so damn happy I almost forgot she wasn’t a half-hour drive away anymore.
The ache behind my ribs intensified.
Before I could stop myself, I switched to the web browser and looked up Chicago’s football club.
Just in case. Just to see.