Chapter Thirty-Three
West
Never thought I’d say this, but Pandora’s right. No one wants to be Coach Wells right now, and I know I’m at least half the reason he’s probably stressed to the max.
Cleaning up my messes has been somewhat of a mission lately, and meeting with Coach is part of that.
He answered within a minute of me sending a quick, “Hey, got a minute?” text.
But instead of sending back-to-back messages, he extended a dinner invite.
Now, here we are, full off Meg’s pot roast, chilling down in Coach’s theater, watching classic Super Bowl highlights.
The sound is muted because Coach prefers his own commentary over the actual hosts.
“Look at him go! That kid couldn’t have been faster with skates on,” he says with a grin. “You know I was there that year?”
“No shit?”
He nods, a proud look in his eyes. “Sure was. I’d just turned seventeen. Pop and my uncle, Jimmy, took me. To this day, that’s one of the best nights of my life. However, if you tell Meg I said that, you’ll have to be dealt with.”
I lift my hands shoulder-high. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Coach laughs, but then the room goes quiet.
“But you didn’t come here to shoot the shit about old football games. Sounded like there was something on your mind when you reached out this afternoon.”
I nod, searching my brain for the right place to start.
“I… owe you an apology,” I admit. “You’re in a tight spot right now with Reed being out, but I know the problem started with me. I shouldn’t have hidden that my shoulder was acting up. Had I spoken up sooner, something probably could’ve been done about it before the damage got so bad.”
Coach is thoughtful for a moment, and I hold my breath, worried he’s thinking the same thing I am. That I not only screwed things up for myself, but I screwed things up for the entire team.
“I get it,” he says. “As men, people always expect us to be strong, ready to face everything that comes at us head-on, but… sometimes we’re just scared shitless.”
He laughs, and I couldn’t agree more.
Fear played a huge part in putting off my injury. Not going to the doctor meant not hearing bad news. Not hearing bad news meant not wondering if my career was over.
But in the big scheme of things, I only delayed the inevitable.
“I saw the ortho doc a couple days ago and scheduled surgery.”
It’s getting easier to say that out loud. The thought of going under the knife again no longer takes my breath away.
When I focus on Coach again, I’m surprised by the smile on his face. “That’s excellent news. The sooner you get it taken care of, the sooner you can put this all behind you.”
I nod, looking forward to that day.
“I’m proud of you,” he adds, and only now does it sink in that he didn’t even mention having me back in uniform.
His only concern seems to be me, that I get better.
“I started therapy, too,” I share. “Already, she’s helped me realized something about myself.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
I recall Dr. Lee’s words. “She says I’ve believed a lie my entire life. That I equate my value with football, so I guess that’s why I pushed myself to the point of my body breaking down. I was scared to slow down and deal with it, scared to feel useless.”
Coach is nodding, concern in his eyes. “Is that how you see yourself? Like who you are on the football field defines you?”
I don’t reply, because I’m low-key ashamed now that I think about how shallow that is.
“West, you’re a beast on the football field, so don’t misunderstand when I say this.
But football is the least impressive thing about you.
The least,” he reiterates. “You’re a good man and husband, a good brother, and a loyal friend.
And this is coming from the man who’s known you since you were a cocky college kid, walking into that locker room like you were hot shit. ”
We laugh and I remember that like it was yesterday. Including the part where I thought I was hot shit.
“My point is this. Anything you put your heart into, it’s going to be successful.”
I take his words to heart, and I sit with them.
“But we’re not just going to brush over this whole… therapy thing. I’m so proud of you. Not enough people take their mental health seriously. It takes a real man to acknowledge he needs help becoming his best self. Good for you.”
My chest tightens with his words, his acknowledgement.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Of course. How long you been seeing someone?”
“I just started two days ago, and I see her again next Tuesday.”
“And how are things going between you and Blue?” he asks, and I’m glad he knows no topic is off limits with us.
“Better. I’d love it if she’d just come home, but… I can be patient.”
He studies me for a moment. “I sure hope this doesn’t have anything to do with that Pandora spreading that story about you and Kasey.”
“No, not at all. Blue’s known for years and, believe it or not, she was a big help getting me through that situation back in the day.”
He smiles. “That doesn’t surprise me at all. She’s a special girl.”
Special doesn’t even begin to cover it. She’s… incredible.
I picture my wife’s face, and I realize I’m smiling a little. As badly as I want her back completely, I’m grateful for how far we’ve come. And what’s more, I respect where she is in the process of healing. When she’s ready, she’ll come back to me.
I feel it.
“Well, if there’s ever anything Meg and I can do, just name it. You know we’re rooting for you kids.”
“I appreciate that. I’m sure Blue would, too.”
I glance down at the time and realize I stayed much longer than I intended to.
“I should get going. I have some research to do before making a few calls in the morning.”
Coach arches a brow. “These better not be recruitment interviews or something,” he teases, and I laugh as I stand to my feet.
“They’re interviews, but definitely not that kind.”
“I’m gonna hold you to it.”
He stands, and I look him in the eyes, needing him to know how much I appreciate him—his kindness, his patience.
I extend my hand to shake his. “Once I’m all healed up, I hope to be right back on the field with the Emperors.”
The smile on his face broadens as he slaps my hand away in exchange for a hug. “Can’t wait to see it, son.”
I’m grateful to finally be getting to a place where I no longer need others’ validation. But this time spent with Coach, knowing I’m loved for exactly who I am, it’s surely given me that. Reassurance that the only person who sees me as nothing more than football… is me.