10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Mrs. Simone holds my knee X-ray up against the lightboard, tapping a finger on the black-and-white image.
“Look at this, Matt” she says, her tone upbeat. “You’re healing really well. This progress is something to be proud of.”
A faint smile tugs at my lips as I lean back against the chair. “Sounds great.”
“It is great,” my therapist says, placing a hand on the edge of the X-ray board. “It’s more than great.”
“At least it’s something. You know, before the injury, my legs were my life. Being on the field was everything and now I’m subjected to constant check-ups. And before you say it, I know I’m supposed to be eternally grateful that I didn’t lose my ability to walk.”
She nods, her expression empathetic. “I can’t imagine how hard it has been. You’ve already faced the toughest part though – accepting that chapter is closed.”
My jaw clenches as I stare at the X-ray. “Yeah, I know it’s been a year since it all came to shit. But sometimes, I can’t help but hope…”
“It’s natural to feel that way, Matt, but your focus now should be on what comes next. Your recovery is about living fully and pain-free – not looking back. And right now, you are taking care of what comes next very nicely.”
“Yeah, I get it,” I breathe slowly. “It’s just really hard sometimes.”
“I understand,” Mrs. Simone smiles reassuringly, pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. “You’ve already got the discipline and the drive. Those don’t disappear just because the game has.”
“Thanks,” I smile, getting to my feet. “Are you sure you’re not also a psych therapist?”
She chuckles, waving me away. “I only do bones and muscles. Take care of yourself, Matt.”
I leave the hospital after that and make a beeline for my car at the VIP garage.
My senses snap into high gear when I feel a presence behind me. I turn quickly, scanning the area, but there’s no one – or nothing – out of place.
Still, I’m not na?ve. I know I’m being followed. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way, but the instinct is unmistakable. Paparazzi.
I’d like to believe I’ve kept them at bay since trading the football field for a white-collar job, but old habits die hard.
I act like I haven’t noticed and continue as usual, but instead of heading straight to my car, I pause near an alley, pretending to light a cigarette. Moments later, a man strolls past, trying too hard to look casual. He must be new on the job.
One glance at his camera bag confirms it – he’s a pap.
They’re back.
Annoyed, I leave the alley and head straight for my car. As obnoxious as I may appear to people, I’m a simple man who prefers his privacy over the blinding flashes of cameras.
I played football because of passion and fun. Football made me feel alive. The invasive media was my least enjoyed aspect of the sport. But when you’re born into a family like mine, you tend to learn how to live with it.
That doesn’t rule out the fact that I hate it. I always have. I hated them as a kid, and I hate them now as a grown man.
I drive out of the hospital, heading home with thoughts of why they’ve resurfaced just when my life is starting to feel good again.
I take the elevator to my floor, and as soon as the doors slide open, I see Hailey in front of her door.
She’s wearing a black, formal gown and her hair is sleeked back to a bun. Despite the orderliness of her dress, her movements are weirdly haphazard and disorganized.
She’s fumbling with the keypad on her door and a beep resounds in the hallway, hinting at a wrong passcode.
“Shit,” she curses loudly, before gently banging her head against the steel door.
“Hailey?” I call out, but she grunts in response.
“Leave me alone.”
I gently pull her back to face me and she frowns at me. Her cheeks are stained with dried tears and dark mascara. Her pupils are dilated and my nostrils faintly catch a whiff of alcohol.
“Are you drunk?”
“No,” she lies. “I don’t know. Just a little.”
“Where are you coming from?”
“Home,” she responds weakly. “It used to be home.”
The home I know is the one she’s standing in front of—except she’s referring to her parents’ home. Jasmine doesn’t tell me much about Hailey’s personal life, but I know she was disowned when she got pregnant with Leo.
“They invited me for dinner,” she sniffs. “Just to treat me like shit.”
“Hey,” I drag my thumb across her cheek. Immediately, she looks up at me; the waterworks threaten to spill.
“I’m such a disappointment,” she complains. “I can’t even type my own passcode correctly.”
I should take her to my place, but I doubt she’d want to wake up in a room that isn’t hers after whatever her family has done to her.
In another situation, I’d be slightly ashamed to admit that one glimpse of her typing in her passcode forever stamped the figures in my head. But I have no time to be embarrassed about that right now.
“Shit,” she breathes as she clutches her head. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
I lift her into my arms and type in her passcode. “Let’s get you inside.”
Her door clicks open and I shut it close with my foot. It’s easy to navigate her apartment since the architecture of our houses are the same.
I take off her heels, kick her bathroom door open and set her down in front of the toilet.
I hold her hair as she clutches the edges of the toilet and spills out her guts. I rub soothing circles across her back and hand her some water when she’s done.
Hailey jams the flusher and rests against the toilet seat with her legs folded up to her chest.
Slowly, I ask, “You okay?”
She shakes her head without looking at me. “My head is killing me.”
“Where’s your painkillers?”
She hiccups, pointing at the cabinet above the sink.
I hand her two pills and a glass of water. She swallows with a frown and cleans her mouth with the back of her palm.
Hailey wraps her arms around her legs, buries her face between her knees, and cries quietly.
I sit beside her on the floor and wrap an arm around her shoulders. She cries even harder, sniffing repeatedly and crying again.
“I’m so tired,” she says so quietly that I barely hear her.
“All Leo wants from me these days is to see his grandparents. When his friends talk about theirs at school, he has nothing to say and they laugh at him because of it. So, I tried. I tried to do something – anything – to give him what he wants. Just so he doesn’t feel left out at anything his friends are doing. ”
She lifts her face from her knees and covers it with her trembling fingers.
“But my family, they’re just… they’re just so mean.
I can’t believe how foolish and delusional I was to assume that they’d welcome me back with open arms without something in it for them.
How can they do that to me? Huh? I’ve got too many things to worry about and they just casually make it worse.
Like I’m not human like them. It’s sickening. ”
“Hailey,” I sigh, plucking her fingers away from her face. “Look at me.”
Her red-rimmed eyes reluctantly look at me. Her face is flushed from all the crying and her nose is as red as that of a reindeer.
She looks away from me again. “Don’t look at me. I look like shit.”
“You’re beautiful, Hailey and it’s okay to cry,” I say. “Look, I’m not good with words. I’ve never been the best comforter either, so I usually don’t know what to say to people when they cry. But I’m sure of one thing – you’re not a disappointment.”
Hailey looks at me.
“You’ve been lied to,” I tell her. “You’re smart, determined to get what you want, a dedicated hard worker, and the best mother to Leo.
You’re doing one hell of a good job when it comes to keeping your shit together and most times, I envy you for it.
I can’t imagine what your family did to you today, but I’ve been through my own fair share of shit to know that life isn’t always fair.
But I’m sure you’ll get it. I know you will. ”
Hailey keeps on staring at me for a minute straight. Then she blinks and lets out a short laugh.
“I think I’m still drunk, because that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“You’d better stamp it on your wall because it’s the last time you’ll hear that.”
“You’re not that bad of a shoulder to cry on,” she sniffs, running her hands down her face. “Stay with me tonight.”
I try not to smile as I help her to her feet. “That’s one hell of a request, Hailey. Considering I’m quite the catch.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Pierce. It’s just sleeping. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
She asks me to wait in her bedroom while she takes a shower. I slide off my hoodie but leave the sweatpants on.
I pick up a portrait on her bedside table, and a tiny grin forms on my lips. I look at the picture of Hailey and Leo. They’re both holding ice cream cones with bright, white smiles on their faces.
Just as I return the portrait, the shower turns off, and a few minutes later, Hailey steps out barefoot in nothing but an oversized black shirt. The tips of her damp hair stick to her shoulders as she rubs a towel over her face.
You’re here to comfort her, asshole. Not to stare at her tits.
“Cute picture,” I say, nodding at the portrait. She comes to stand in front of me and picks up the frame with a grin.
“Yeah. It was a good day.”
She looks at me again, but we’re suddenly standing too close and we’re both staring at our mouths.
Fortunately, I snap out of it first. As badly as I want her, this isn’t what she needs right now.
I take a step back. “We should get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” she blushes with a shake of her head. “Right. Sleep.”
I switch off the lights and join her in bed. I feel her body tense as the mattress dips beneath my weight.
Wordlessly, I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her towards me. She doesn’t resist. She lets me hold her as she rests her head on my chest, listening to the sound of my heartbeat.
“Goodnight, Hailey.”
“Goodnight, Matt.”