30. A Choice
30
Foster
I’m in so much fucking pain. Physical pain, for obvious reasons, and emotional pain, because, well, my life as I know it is most likely over. Sure, I’ll heal. I should be able to walk normally, eventually. But I won’t be the same football player I was before the accident. I’m out for the rest of the season, if not longer, and physical therapy isn’t going to get me back to where I was before.
I’ll be a backup player, at best. At worst, the team will trade me to some franchise that needs a seasoned veteran to show the ropes to the rookies, milking another year or two out of my career before I’m benched for good.
I should just retire. I’m thirty-two, so I only had a few more years in me even before the injury.
I lift my head and look around. Hadley’s nowhere in sight. I drop my head back down with a sigh and close my eyes in an attempt to go to sleep.
I’ve been on this couch for several days now, and nothing is right. I had Riggs and Miles bring me here from the hospital even though they both offered to set me up at their houses while I recover. But I wanted to be here. With Hadley. Who made sure I was comfortable before disappearing to another part of the house. And she’s done the same every day, making sure I have everything I need before going right back to keeping her distance. She won’t talk to me about it, either.
Sleep evades me, and I lose patience. The pain and depression are enough. I can’t handle the distance between Hadley and me on top of it. I need her.
“Hadley?” I call out.
I hear her footsteps nearing, and something in my chest settles. She’s coming.
“Do you need something?” she asks, her voice sounding a bit detached.
“Why are you all the way over there?” I ask when she stops in the doorway to the living room. “Come here.”
She bites her lip, then takes a few steps closer. She stops several feet away, though, her eyes darting around the room. Why won’t she look at me?
Fuck. Does she not want me anymore now that my career might be over?
I shake my head to clear the thought. No way. Hadley’s not like that. She doesn’t even really like football, and she has no interest in fame or fortune.
“Are you angry with me?” I ask in a near whisper.
Her eyes snap to mine and widen. “What? No. Why would I be mad at you?”
“Then come here and tell me what’s wrong. Please, Hadley.”
Her eyes fall closed for a moment, and she takes a deep breath. When she reopens them, she shuffles toward me like she’s being led to a guillotine. She takes the chair next to the couch at my feet, keeping that miserable distance between us.
“It was my fault.”
“What?” I bark, my head jerking backward at the proclamation. “What was your fault?”
She waves a hand toward my leg. “The accident. Your injury. It was my fault, and I’m so sorry, Foster.”
Confusion clouds my thoughts as I try to make sense of what she’s saying. “It wasn’t your fault, Hadley. How could it have been? I got injured during a game. It happens. It’s a risk we take every time we run out onto that field.”
She shakes her head, and her eyes turn glassy with unshed tears. “I heard what you said.”
“What are you talking about?”
“In the hospital. You told the guys you weren’t focused. That your head wasn’t in it. You were thinking about me, right? About our night together? Or maybe it was that stupid kiss I blew you right before the play. Either way, it was my fault.”
“Hadley, no,” I say, my voice dropping a few octaves. “This is not your fault.”
She nods, but I can tell she’s not buying it. Her simple “okay” proves it. As does her fidgeting before she shoots out of the chair and scurries from the room.
Well, fuck that.
Sitting up, I grunt through the pain as I slide my legs off the couch. I’m sweating by the time I get the crutches from the end of the sofa and stand. My cast runs from knee to foot, and I hold it out in front of me as I hobble into the kitchen.
Hadley hears me and spins around, swiping the tears from her eyes as she shakes her head. “You shouldn’t be doing this. Go lay back down.”
“Not until you listen to me,” I say, moving toward her until I’ve got her cornered against the counter. “This has to end.”
Her face fills with horror. “You want to move out?”
“What? No. Hell, no. I meant this guilt you’re carrying around has to end. What happened to me was shitty, a sick twist of fate, and it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t even my fault. It was an accident. An accident, Hadley.”
“But you said––”
“I don’t care what I said. I don’t even remember saying it. I was hopped up on pain killers and fresh out of anesthesia. I’m sorry if I said something to make you feel like this was your fault, but my head is clear now, Hadley, and I’m telling you it wasn’t.”
“I distracted you,” she says softly, but I see a flicker of hope in her soft gray eyes.
Hope that she’s wrong. That I don’t actually blame her for the injury, and that she shouldn’t blame herself, either.
“You didn’t,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper as I lift a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I love football, Hadley. I do. But it’s not my entire life. If I can play again, great. If I can’t, well, I’ll just have to find something else to love.”
“Are you sure it’ll be that easy to just move on?” she asks.
“I never said it would be easy, but it’s not going to break me, either. I have other goals. Other dreams. I’ll just move on to them a little sooner than I expected.”
I can practically feel the tension drain out of her as she accepts my words as truth. A warmth blooms in my chest, and my lips part in a wide smile as I slide my hand behind her neck and jerk her toward me. A laugh bubbles out of her as our lips meet, and when her hands fist in my shirt, tugging me closer, I know this is right. Being here with Hadley, holding her, kissing her…
There is nowhere in this world I’d rather be.
It’s been four weeks since the accident, and though I’m still in a cast, the pain has subsided. I can get around on my crutches easily now, and I’ve even managed to maneuver my way up the stairs to sleep in Hadley’s bed for the last few nights.
We’ve only slept––she’s terrified of hurting me unintentionally––but holding her in my arms, feeling her breath on my chest as she wraps herself around me… It’s made me realize that I never want to sleep anywhere else or any other way.
A few guests have come and gone over the last couple of weeks, but for the most part, we’ve spent our days alone together. Talking. Laughing. Cuddling on the couch while not paying attention to the movie we’re supposed to be watching because we’re just too wrapped up in being.
I’ve made a choice. I just hope I’m not alone in these feelings, and Hadley agrees.
I look over at her as she pulls the car into the driveway. Her smile is forced and doesn’t reach her eyes when she glances over at me, and I know the choice I made was the right one.
She hops out and rushes around to open my door, intent on helping me even though I’ve told her I can do it on my own. But I don’t argue this time. This time, I let her help because it makes her feel good, and I don’t want anything to mar the memory of this moment.
“It’s beautiful,” she says once we’re standing in front of the car.
The house I planned from the slab to the shingles looms before us. Pristine windows glint in the early morning light as the scent of freshly sawed wood permeates the air around us. The builders finished the wraparound porch yesterday, staining it to a glossy brown per my instructions. The siding is a natural wood color, but made of fiber cement to withstand the elements for decades to come. I had the shutters painted black, tying in the dark knots in the wood of the porch and the shiny black door.
“Do you want to go inside?” Hadley asks when the silence stretches between us for too long.
“No.”
Her head whips toward me, confusion twisting her beautiful features. Shuffling on my crutches, I turn to face her. Taking one of her hands in mine, I squeeze it while she searches my gaze for answers to her unspoken questions.
“I’m putting it on the market.”
“What?” she asks on a gasp. “What do you mean? You’ve spent all this time and money building this place for yourself. It’s your dream home.”
“Not anymore,” I murmur.
“What are you saying, Foster?”
“I don’t want to live anywhere where you aren’t.” I tug her closer and cup her cheeks with my hands. “I’m saying, if you’ll let me, I want to stay with you.”
“With me?” she whispers, her eyes turning glassy.
“With you,” I repeat, then lick my lips as I prepare to say words I’ve never uttered in my life. “I’ve fallen for you, Hadley West. You’re everything to me, and I can’t bear the thought of not spending every moment of my life in your arms. I’m in love with you.”
The tears spill over as a joyful laugh bursts from her lips. “I love you, too, Foster.”
Her hands dive into my hair, pulling me down for an epic, life-changing kiss. I get lost in her, lost in the feeling of loving someone and being loved in return. It’s a feeling I’ll cherish forever, never taking it for granted because I’ve never felt it before. I’ve never allowed myself to feel it before, and now I know why.
I was waiting for this. For this moment. This girl. This all-encompassing love that’s made me a better human being.
And I’m never going to let it go.