45 - Wesley
Wesley
I didn’t go to the hospital expecting forgiveness.
I didn’t give myself time to have any expectations at all.
I just went, letting myself follow the gut feeling that I needed to be at Nathan’s side.
No plan. No clue what I wanted. Until I saw him, sitting in a hospital bed with his dark hair messy and his eyes locked on mine.
The emptiness that had been plaguing me for the past month dissolved in an instant. The sight of him with his guard down brought every single emotion I’ve been hiding from back to the forefront.
Relief came first, because he was awake and smiling. Then, there was the sharp stab of self-hatred after seeing how surprised he was to see me. As if my showing up for him had been the last thing he’d thought would happen.
I’d spent a month trying to convince myself that I’d made the right choice, despite how much it hurt. Apparently, while I never fully managed to convince myself, Nathan had believed it wholeheartedly. It didn’t sit right with me, especially after meeting his parents.
They’ve been telling him to be different for years, and then I came in and reaffirmed his self-doubt by not choosing him.
Making Nathan believe that he wasn’t enough for me and that I wanted something else more than him was haunting me at every turn.
Not only because it’s completely false, but also because he deserved someone to choose him without hesitation. I wanted to be that person.
That’s why I snapped at them, ranting on about how I loved him when I’d never even admitted it out loud.
We’ve both said it at this point, once in anger and once in desperation, but neither of those confessions held weight when they weren’t said with intent. Instead, they floated awkwardly between us, neither of us willing to lay it all out on the table for real.
I told Avery and Harper about my visit to the hospital.
It was the exact reason why the three of us now sat around Avery’s couch watching some action movie, with bowls full of ice cream.
I wasn’t being so strict about my diet plan these days, part of my attempt to maintain a healthy balance on and off the field.
“You look like you’re thinking about it again.” Harper pauses the movie, looking over at me.
She’s referring to the fact that I embarrassed myself, showing up to the hospital, just to be turned down.
Well, I hadn’t been turned down, but not quite forgiven either.
“I am,” I groan, sliding further down into Avery’s ridiculously oversized couch.
Avery’s apartment looks exactly like you’d expect a single, thriving, late twenties’ apartment to look like.
It’s full of velvet textures and golden accents and a ridiculous neon sign over the bar cart that says good decisions later.
There’s a faint citrus candle burning somewhere, and the smell of the Mexican takeout we’d ordered still lingers in the air.
“He hasn’t forgiven you yet? You made a stupid rash decision in the name of pursuing your dreams. That should get a free pass.” Avery takes another bite of her cookies and cream ice cream.
A stupid rash decision. Yeah, that about sums it up.
I narrow my eyes at her. “Tell me how you really feel.” The sarcasm rolls off my tongue.
“Oh, c’mon. We all know it was stupid.”
Harper snorts. “True.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I hate you both.”
They both watch me with expectant eyes.
“He forgave me, I think. It’s complicated.” I twirl the spoon deeper into my ice cream. “He says he understands, but that he doesn’t want to rush back into anything. Besides, it’s only been two days.”
“You two make things so much harder than they need to be.” Avery shakes her head.
“Then let’s talk about you,” I give her a smug look. “Who are you sleeping with?”
“No one.” The answer is far too quick.
“We’re supposed to believe that Avery Holt, self-proclaimed sex enthusiast, is celibate?”
Harper gives up on the movie, turning it completely off, as she smiles at Avery.
“Yes. Because I am.” The words are sure, but she doesn’t look at either of us.
“It’s not your ex, is it?” I press.
“No. Absolutely not. No chance in hell.” Now, she looks at us, a silent plea in her eyes. “Can we not talk about him? Please.”
Harper lets her off the hook. “Fine. We can talk about your mom coming to town in a couple of days.”
“Ugh. That’s just as bad. You know how that goes. It’ll be the Shonda show.” Avery rolls her eyes, taking a bite of her ice cream. “That’s why I told her I only have time for dinner.”
“We can grab drinks after so you can vent about it,” Harper offers.
I nod in agreement. They shift topics to the movie we’d given up trying to watch, but my phone dings, stealing my attention.
Nathan: How’s movie night?
I smile before I can stop myself.
Me: We ditched the movie. Girl talk.
Nathan: About what?
Me: As if I’d tell you.
We have been like this since the hospital, circling each other with half jokes and careful check-ins. No declarations.
“He’s afraid I’ll run again,” I say aloud, letting the smile slip from my lips. “He hasn’t said it, but he is.”
“Will you?” There is no judgment in Harper’s question.
“No.” My lips tilt up. “I love him.”
It feels good to let myself feel this. It would feel even better if he felt it back.
They look at each other and laugh. I pretend to scowl.
“Duh!” Avery teases, “I tried to tell you.”
“But the last time we got together, it was pretend. It was an act to help us both with our coaches. He doesn’t want us to jump back in, just because he’s injured or because I regret my decision to call it off.”
It makes sense. It’s the logical, rational choice.
It also sucks.
I’ve been holding myself back for so long that, now that I know I want him, I want to jump back in with both feet, no safety net.
But I hurt him. I left him. So, the ball is in his court, and I have to accept his terms. Showing up at the hospital didn’t magically undo what I did, no matter how much I wish it had.
So, I text him. A lot. About nothing. About everything. About how the weather sucks and how his sister has followed me on Instagram. I show him, quietly and consistently, that I’m here and not bolting this time.
It’s the least I can do to try to make up for hurting him. I will do it for as long as it takes for him to trust me.
As if sensing my frustration, Harper puts her hand on my arm. “He loves you too, you know.”
In theory, I know that. He said it. He also said it was a mistake, so until those words come from his lips a second time, I won’t let myself believe them fully.
“I hope it’s enough.”
“Patience has never been your virtue, not once you’ve decided what you want.”
She’s right. I am always the one in control. Leaving the future of us in Nathan’s hands is killing me, but I’m also hoping it shows him how serious I am.
Nathan: Your season opener is next week, right?
Me: Sort of. The season will kick off in March, but since we are last year’s champs, we’ll play in the Annual Cup Game first. It kicks off the season.
Nathan: Have you heard from the National Team coaches?
He knows what I risked to be at his side. I don’t regret it. There was no part of me that could play a soccer game knowing he was in the hospital. But I still hope it doesn’t cost me my future.
Me: Nah, but there is still plenty of time before the deadline.
I bite my lip and let out a sigh, trying to convince myself of what I’m telling Nathan. I wait for the anxious spiral and racing heart that normally accompany the idea of not making the National Team, but they don’t come. Could it really be this simple?
Harper glances at Avery and me. “The cup is next week. Are you guys feeling ready?”
“It’s just another game.” Avery shrugs, her usual nonchalance in full force. I nod in agreement.
The pre-game jitters, the endless worry over the scouts, and the pressure to perform all feel manageable. The image of the ball against my cleats has anticipation humming beneath my skin. I’m excited to play.
“And?” Harper prompts.
“I’m trying not to let myself get too fixated.” I hesitate, then add, “Coach Bennett wasn’t as mad as I thought she’d be about me leaving the scrimmage.”
Avery turns toward me. “Really?”
We’d lost the scrimmage. While I am not egotistical enough to think it was solely because of my absence, I am realistic enough to know it played a role.
“Yeah. Once everyone realized Nathan was hurt, she didn’t blame me for needing to be there, especially because it was just a scrimmage. If anything, she’s been more solid about me being captain this season.”
Harper smiles softly. “I’m proud of you.”
“She told me that it makes me human, which is exactly the type of person who should be leading the team.”
Avery lifts her glass. “Here! Here!”
“The National Team coaches still haven’t called,” I admit. “Which is fine. I mean, not fine, but I’m still hopeful.”
Harper nudges my knee. “They’ll call.”
“And if they don’t, I still get to play. I still get to lead my team. There are worse things.”
Avery studies me for a second. “You sound different.”
“Good different?”
She smiles. “Yeah, good different.”
I lean back into the couch, letting the noise of the cars driving by settle into me. Knowing my friends see the changes I’m making means the world to me. Hopefully, Nathan sees the changes, too.
My phone buzzes.
Nathan: They’d be insane not to pick you.
I don’t know what comes over me, other than that Nathan makes me want to feel the things I’ve shied away from for years. He makes me honest about what I want in a way I never have been.
Me: There’s only one person I care about picking me these days.
The next move is his.