Chapter 22
AUSTIN
—Fading by Alle Farben
both the CT scan and MRI showed no structural problems with your brain.”
I stare at her, because even though she says I’m fine, I’m not convinced. “Then why was I unconscious for twenty-four hours?”
“There are a few possible explanations,” she replies, scrolling through her tablet.
“The most common in situations like yours is something we call vasovagal syncope. Essentially, your nervous system overreacts to a sudden trigger and what follows is that your heart rate and blood pressure drop very quickly and results in you fainting.”
I exhale a humourless laugh. “So, I just passed out?”
“Not quite that simple,” she corrects gently. “High-level competition puts enormous stress on the nervous system because adrenaline, emotional pressure, physical impact are all happening simultaneously, and when those systems overload, the body responds by shutting things down temporarily.”
I glance towards the window, recalling how I’ve been working out and training more than usual these past months.
“Regardless,” she continues, tapping her tablet, “we monitored you overnight to make sure nothing more serious developed. There was no swelling, no abnormal brain activity, no cardiac issues. Everything remained stable.”
I let out a slow breath and nod. “Thank you. When can I go home?”
“We will process your discharge soon, just take it easy when you get home,” she says and leaves.
I turn to Roland, but before I can say anything, he speaks first. “We can’t talk here.”
My head starts spinning again. His presence here does not make sense. Roland basically rejected me, giving me the whole ‘we can’t be seen together’ excuse. So why would he be here now?
About two hours later, I’m finally cleared to go home. Roland insists I wear the face cap he gives me and helps me settle into a wheelchair, wheeling me out through the hospital’s back entrance down to the underground parking lot.
“Roland, am I wanted for crime?” I ask nervously.
He just shakes his head, and I feel my worry spike even more.
Not knowing things drives me up the wall, and I especially hate not knowing how he fits into the situation I’m in.
I use this ride to reply to Coach’s text, letting him know I’m okay and that I’ll come see him once I feel up to it.
Even though I’ve been sleeping for twenty-four hours, I still feel weak, so after another failed attempt to get Roland to talk and he mimics zipping his mouth, I rest my eyes.
I wake when Roland taps me, whispering that we’ve arrived. Only I don’t know whose house this is. He leaps out of the car and opens the door for me.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“I got it under my cousin’s name because reporters are camped at my house, and I assume it’ll be the same at your place,” he tells me.
My confusion mounts, but I know better than to ask any questions yet. So, I sigh and shuffle after him towards the door, still fatigued and just wanting to collapse somewhere and relax.
As soon as we’re inside and he locks the door, he’s pulling me into his chest, heartbeat thundering against mine. “You scared me.”
I lean into him for a minute, taking in his familiar scent that has haunted me for months. “What’s going on?” I manage to ask.
He hooks an arm around my waist and steers us into the living room. My legs still feel a little unreliable, so I don’t argue when he lowers me onto the couch and starts piling pillows behind my back until I am sitting straight.
“Before we get into it,” he says, stepping back enough to look at me properly, “I want to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me.”
I look at him again, noticing the weariness in his expression. His face is still as handsome as ever, but faint lines betray how exhausted he is. “Okay?” I reply cautiously.
He takes a slow breath, like he’s bracing himself. “Did you tell Sandra you were going to, uhm . . . th-that you were going to s-seduce me?”
My eyes widen immediately, my heart dropping straight into my stomach. “What? I never said that,” I blurt out, and then something clicks in my head. “Oh my God,” I whisper, dragging an arm over my face.
He reaches forward and gently removes my hand, holding it between both of his. “Hey. I’m not angry or anything. I just need to clear the air.”
“I’m guessing she’s the one that told you that.
” I groan when he nods. “After you guys separated, she kind of figured out that I like you, but I didn’t comment on it.
And then she made this passing comment that I could do something about my attraction to you by seducing you.
I didn’t even acknowledge her or the statement. ”
He gives me a small smile at that and squeezes my hand. “Thanks for explaining. I have to admit, I was furious at first, thinking maybe what happened was you messing with me, and I was foolish enough to fall in love with y—”
“Y-you love me?” My voice wavers, and I can’t tell if it’s from fear or hope, or both.
He smiles properly this time, the kind that softens his whole face. “I’m caught off guard myself.” Then he scratches the back of his neck. “So, I kinda fucked up,” he admits, and he must see the panic on my face because he rushes to add, “but I fixed it for you.”
My heart is hammering, but I force myself to take a slow breath. “Okay?”
He starts pacing in a small circle. “When you went down on the pitch and didn’t stand up immediately, I freaked out and I ran over to help you.
I left the game and asked Coach Jones to sub in the backup goalie.
Let’s just say he didn’t appreciate that.
” He lets out an exhale. “I got suspended for that. Then, out of nowhere, news started circulating on social media that we’re both”—he hesitates—“gay, and allegedly seeing each other, claiming some anonymous source tipped them. At first, I thought it had to be Sandra, given how angry she had been, but my cousin later found out it was a Danish guy who claimed you came on to him in Copenhagen. When I came to drag you away, he assumed we were together or something. It’s dumb if you ask me,” he explains in a rush.
I stare at him, my mouth ajar, caught somewhere between shock and disbelief. That motherfucker in Copenhagen was all over me! I know I should say something, but I’m too dumbfounded to even speak.
He takes a deep breath. “Anyway, I went back to the stadium to see Coach Jones after the game. I called my agent on the way to explain what I wanted to do. I had to release a statement because I had no idea what was going on with your team or where their head was at. So, I announced my divorce and made it clear the rumour about us being together is false, that while I have feelings for you, they were unrequited and—”
“You did what?” I cut him off.
“Please understand, I was under immense pressure, and at the time it had seemed like the best option so it wouldn’t fall back on you.”
“No,” I say, feeling weaker than before. “That’s not what I meant. You shouldn’t have said it was one-sided. Because it isn’t.”
He stops pacing mid-step, his eyebrows pulling together. “I didn’t think—”
“You didn’t think I’m in love with you?” I shout, a little fire returning to me. “I practically told you in Sheffield, but you rejected me,” my voice lowers on the last word.
He drops to his knees in front of me. “No, I wasn’t rejecting you, I was thinking of your future, of everything that could go wrong. But when you fell, all I could think of was how much I love you, and how it would kill me if something happened to you.”
All at once, his words feel like a punch and a balm, making my heart thunder so hard I can feel it in my throat. “I still can’t believe it,” I say. “That you love me.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks and there’s that slight curve at the corner of his mouth, the one I’ve imagined more times than I can count, and it makes my stomach do a ridiculous flip.
“I mean, you did upend your life for me, but you can never be sure with men.”
He chuckles and wraps his arms around my waist. “I love you.” I hear it loud and clear even though the words are muffled against my shirt.
“Wait, are you still suspended?” The thought slices through the haze of relief and disbelief I’m feeling.
He nods. “Yeah, but I think I’ll retire. I wanted to add that to the statement, but my agent asked me to hold off until we saw how things worked out.”
“I don’t like the notion that people will think I don’t love you. I can retire too.”
“You will do no such thing.” He lifts his head up. “I did what I did so your career wouldn’t have to suffer, okay?” His eyes locks with mine, unflinching and full of conviction.
“What if you regret it and hate me later?” The question leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but I need to hear it, to say it.
“Austin,” he says in that sexy voice of his, somehow commanding and soft all at once. “I’ve been regretting my decision in Sheffield these past months. I’ve had a long career, and I look forward to the future we’ll have. I can’t regret following my heart.”
Oh. He’s trying to kill me, isn’t he? My pulse is racing, my knees are getting weaker; I’m losing all sense of self-control in the best way possible.
I trace his lips with my thumb and lean in to kiss him.
I let my lips say what my words fail to capture.
I want to tell him that this, right now, is a dream I’ve never dared to hope would come true, that I’ve replayed these moments a thousand times in my head.
For now, I let my kiss convey every ounce of relief and desire I feel.
Roland lifts me up effortlessly. “You need to shower,” he says. “And I was thinking, since you have the weekend free, we can go to Prague and just lay low for a few days. Michael sent me a very disturbing message about him doing something out of character, but I haven’t been able to reach him.”
“You’ve had a really stressful twenty-four hours,” I say, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.
“The doctor did say I should rest and even added it in the discharge papers, so . . . yeah, I think I can go away for the weekend, see my coach after we get back. He doesn’t sound angry in his text message to me. ”
I wrap my hand around the back of his neck, pulling Roland close and inhaling the scent of him, letting myself soak in the steady beat of his heart against mine.
I still can’t believe that I get to have him to myself, or that he could ever love me.
But for now, I’ll live in this moment and let everything else wait.
Thank you so much for reading Roland and Austin’s story.