Chapter 32
Chapter thirty-two
Emily
When I did eventually turn my phone back on, with the help from Jess, after my forced everything bath. I was greeted to much less than I thought; just messages from Dan, Jess, a few people from work, my mum, Aimee and of course Jack, all checking in to see if I was okay.
I re-downloaded my Instagram and watched Jack’s video no less than five hundred times, after declining every follow request and requested DM. He noticed me two years ago and he has wanted to know me ever since. Why did he never tell me?
I wanted to ask him, but this is an in-person conversation, and I had to get back to my job. Two twelve hour shifts and avoiding every question about my personal life later, it is finally Saturday, and I have a crowd to ensure is safe.
My plan is to meet him after today’s game.
Gemma follows me into the first aid room, “How are you getting on?” she asks as she perches on the bench to my left.
“Actually, fine,” I say honestly.
“I saw his video.” This makes me turn my full attention to the older lady, wise eyes study me. “Seems like he’s been smitten for a while.”
“It does.” I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“He really put himself out there for you.”
“He did.” I nod again, thinking of all the times Jack has said he tries to avoid attention from the media as much as possible.
By putting himself out there like that on social media, saying all those things about me, he took the heat away from me.
He had gone on further in the interview to tell everyone everything and anything they might want to know about me, about us, about him.
What side of the bed we sleep on, who cooks most, who is messiest. All the bullshit questions people seem to want to know about celebrities and their other halves.
Then he had said, with no uncertain terms, that anyone writing horrible things about me, or to me, is no fan of his.
His fans would respect who he chose to be with and the privacy they needed or wanted.
Almost overnight the heat had gone from me. Not that I knew, of course, because I was busy under my duvet fort.
As for his dramatic exit in my time of need, well, we will talk about it. I’m still very pissed at that, but I have to admit his video has softened me enough to be open to him apologising
I also have my own apologising to do. I should never have doubted him. How could I not trust him, especially now? I mean, he basically peed on me and marked his territory with that video. But he has also made the world aware that he is taken. He is mine.
I have thought about him a lot over the past week and it’s time I grew up.
No, he’s not like Chris. But he’s also not like any of my mother’s ex’s either.
I can’t pretend that her relationships haven’t fucked me up, because clearly, they have.
I was willing to throw away this incredible man because I was too scared of getting hurt.
And guess what? In doing so, I hurt myself anyway.
It’s time I stopped using Dan as my unpaid, underqualified therapist and got a real one.
I have shit to sort through if I want to make any kind of future work with Jack. If he’ll still have me.
“I don’t need to remind you how inappropriate it is for you to be dating one of the players do I?” Gemma asks, lifting a brow.
“I wasn’t supposed to fall for him.” I grin.
“You’ve fallen for him? The Forward?”
“Yeah. I’ve fallen for Jack.”
***
Jack
I am a bag of nerves before today’s game.
Normally that isn’t like me, but it’s Saturday and that means Emily might be here.
She should be here. I hope I haven’t scared her off the duties that she enjoys so much.
Even if she wants nothing to do with me anymore, after I left her that day, I don’t want her to feel like she can’t do something she enjoys doing just because I am here.
That must explain the reason I didn’t see her during our warm-up on the field. I don’t think my gaze left the seats where she usually sits. They remained empty the whole time. I’m not wishing any medical emergencies on anyone, but I hope there’s a valid reason for her not being here.
She still hasn’t been in contact. Not one message or call. Not a single reply to me. I know she is back in the real world, because I hounded Jess enough for her to confirm Emily was at least back at work. Even if she is done with me, I’m glad she’s back to her normal life.
I wish she had called me though; I could have told her about Tom Short, the defender that has had it out for me for years after a made-up incident with his mum.
I could have done with talking to someone about him.
I know he’ll have asked to be on me today, like he does every match we play against his team.
Forty minutes in and we are well and truly getting our arses handed to us.
We are two-nil down, with five minutes of the first half left.
Short has been throwing fouls left, right and centre whilst the Ref isn’t looking.
His boots have been under my legs, trying to trip me, more times than the grass has.
I’m usually a very calm person, it takes me a lot for me to lose my shit, but he’s pushing it.
I watch the ball make its way towards my end of the pitch and sprint to a good position, my thighs burning in protest. I know William will have it in the centre and pass to me.
I might have a fucked-up hip, but I’m still the team’s best goal scorer.
William’s powerful legs push him to the ball at the same time as the other team’s mid-fielder gets to it.
This somehow changes the balls trajectory, it’s still coming my way, but it’s up high.
I sprint towards where the ball looks likely to land and brace my legs, ready to get it under control as it descends.
I spot Short, right on my heels as I push my way there.
The ball is coming from my left and the only way I will reach it first is to try and shoot with my left leg, something I have stayed away from since sending Emily to the hospital.
I reach out with my left leg at the same time Short comes flying at me, boot up, studs out.
His boot collides with my thigh.
White hot all-encompassing pain radiates through my leg. I scream.
I hit the deck clutching my leg. My left leg.
I lie back and close my eyes, still cradling my injured leg.
My teeth clench so hard they must be cracking.
I must look like the classic soft football player that gets tapped, does a roll on the floor and starts crying in the hope to get the other team carded.
But, right now, I don’t care about the other team.
I care about my already weak leg. That has been booted.
At full pelt by some tosser to try and get one up on me.
I am stretchered off. Much to my utter mortification. But I can’t weight bare through the pain.
My head immediately takes me to the worst-case scenario.
It’s broken again. It’s over. I’ll never play another game.
I don’t know how much time passes, all I can do is catastrophise in my head. I know I am checked over by the club medics and handed over to physio. I know that I am not put in the back of an ambulance and shipped off for x-rays and surgery. But what if it is broken?
“He’s my fucking boyfriend. I just need to know if he’s okay!” The voice has me snapping out of my trance.
“Let her in,” I say to security at the door. Almost immediately, Emily flies through, almost knocking them over.
She stops short when she sees me. I have a towel slung over my bottom half, my shorts having been removed so I could be inspected properly. But it’s the bandage covering my thigh that makes her eyes widen. Her hand covers her mouth as she whispers, “Oh god, Jack.”
“I’m fine,” I say, opening my arms to her, hoping she will take my offer. She does. She throws herself at me, careful of my leg and I am clutched in the tightest embrace I have ever felt. I rest my head on top of Emily’s where she leans on my chest, and breathe her in.
It has been a week since I last saw her and it has been the worst week yet.
Yes, we have had time apart before but nothing like this, without talking to her, without being able to text her all my random thoughts of the day or her sending me pictures of a random dog she has seen on the way to the gym.
I have missed her, but until now, with her in my arms, I didn’t realise how much.
I can physically feel my heart start to stitch itself back together.
Emily pulls back and her eyes scan up and down my body, assessing now, like she has been trained to do.
“What happened? I had just come out to watch you guys after dealing with someone and I saw you hit the deck. God, Jack, where he had kicked you, I thought...” her words peter out as silver starts to line her eyes.
“Yeah, me too,” I say, dread filling me again. “The dick came at me studs first.”
Emily’s eyes crunch again, her anger back in full force. “That stupid fucking prick. How reckless. He could have done serious damage!”
“Emily Ryan, language!” I chastise, grinning at her outrage on my behalf.
The look she gives me would scare a lesser man to tears. “I don’t know what you’re grinning at, Jack Cartwright. I’m mad at you, too.”
“I know,” I say, still grinning.
“At least look bothered!” She flings her hands up in the air in frustration.
“Oh, I am bothered. Utterly terrified of your wrath,” I say as I grab her big bright yellow jacket and pull her back into me, my hands securing tightly around her hips.
“You could tell your face,” she grumbles, bopping me on the nose.
“Sorry,” I say, still unable to drop the smile.
“I mean it, I’m mad at you.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, for everything.” I lean up and capture her mouth in a quick kiss, her body physically relaxes against me.
“Seriously, we have things to discuss,” she mumbles around my mouth, not fully pulling away. I lift one hand to the back of her head and steady her. Her eyes are blazing, no longer in fury but the insatiable lust we feel for each other.
“You mean how you just screamed, in front of what I can only imagine was a large crowd, that I’m your boyfriend?” A smirk starts to form on her lips. “Does that mean you trust me now?” I lift a brow at her and she flinches slightly.
She releases a long sigh. “It means I am going to try. I’m sorry I doubted you. I have a lot of shit I need to work through, but if you’ll still have me. I’d like to work through it with you by my side.” She looks down and I lift her chin with my finger making her meet my eyes.
“I would love that.”
She gives me a small smile. “Also, we should discuss the fact that you waited two years to talk to me!”
I grin. “You watched my video?” She rolls her eyes and plants another long kiss on my lips.
I pull the hair at the back of her neck, forcing her back an inch so I can stare at the eyes I want to look at for the rest of my life. “There’s one more thing we need to talk about first,” I say, trying to school my face into a serious expression.
Her brow creases in concern. “What?”
“I love you, Emily,” I whisper.
Her lips clash with mine and this time, I don’t pull her away.