34. Declan #2
Saying it out loud makes me physically queasy.
“Well, good. I know you’re levelheaded. At the end of the day you always do what’s best. You’re doing her a favor.”
“Yeah. Well, just know I’m not doing this because Dad called demanding I call it off.”
“Demanding might be a strong way of putting it.”
Dad comes on the line. “I’m glad you came to your senses, son.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Nothing ever is. I may not have all the facts. But I have the ones that matter.”
I don’t argue. A wave of exhaustion sweeps over me—and not because I played today.
“Okay. Well, I’ll talk to you two later.”
“We love you, son.”
“Love you too.”
I hang up. Before I change my mind, I call Kate to tell her I’m going to be ending my relationship with Winona.
“That will help move the spotlight off her, right?” I need to know.
“In time, yes. There might be a spike in interest after a breakup, but generally, the spotlight will follow the player, not their romantic interest.” She pauses and then she asks, “Are you sure about this, Declan?”
“If you’re asking if I want to break up with Winona, then no. I don’t want this. But if you’re asking me if I’m sure that I want to move the spotlight and hate and harassment away from her life? Yes. I’d do anything to take this away. Including breaking up with her.”
“This storm will pass.”
“I agree.” I practically beg Kate to prove me wrong with my next question.
“Can you tell me this will be the only one? The media won’t constantly come for her?
Every escalation of our connection won’t be clouded by accusations that she’s gold-digging?
Fans won’t harass her at games? Photographers will never storm her porch again?
Once this storm passes, we’ll be in the clear? ”
She’s quiet. I wait for her to tell me there’s some way to ensure Winona can live a normal life and still be my girlfriend.
“I can’t promise that, Declan. As a matter of fact, my experience is that a public narrative carries weight and continues to have more lives than a cat.
In other words, now that the public views her as a gold-digger and calls her Plain Jane, that’s who she will continue to be.
You two will have seasons of reprieve, but anything could reheat the embers and you could be in this same situation without warning again and again. ”
I’m silent. An odd peace fills me. It’s not pleasant, but it’s certain. I can’t protect Winona without breaking up with her. Kate said it herself.
“Thank you for being honest with me.”
“I wish I could give you an alternative.”
“Thanks, Kate. You’ve earned your paycheck through all this. I’m grateful for your support.”
“I’m here for you, Declan. And for Winona, for what it’s worth.”
I hang up with Kate and stare at the abstract painting of me on the field. All I ever wanted was to be a professional football player. Now, all I want is to save the woman I love from another moment of pain.
Winona texts me goodnight. Says she’s too tired to talk and she’ll call me tomorrow. I text her back that I love her.
The next day, I wait until I think she’s awake and I call her.
“Hey,” she answers, her voice brighter than it was yesterday.
“Hey. I’d like to talk sometime today. Do you have any free time?”
“I do. I got up early to help cover a shift at the bakery. Emberleigh called last night. Their part-timer is sick.”
“So you were up before the sun?”
“Can you believe it?”
“Yes. When you’re needed, you make it happen.”
“Pastry and coffee were involved. I didn’t torture myself for nothing.”
For a brief moment, I second-guess everything. Can’t we make this work? I practically choke on the idea of calling it off. But I think of Winona sobbing in her room, of the attacks she endured at the stadium, online, at her own home. Enough is enough. Staying with her would be pure selfishness.
“Want me to come over now?” she asks.
I feel like I’m leading a lamb to slaughter.
“Yeah. Now is as good as anytime.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in a few.”
She shows up ten minutes later, smiling and pulling me into a hug.
I can’t help myself, I bend and place a soft, slow kiss on her lips.
I’m greedy for the last bit of what we have with one another.
I’m like a traveler on his last day of vacation, picking up shells, scooping sand into a jar, taking photos of every single sight.
I want to keep it all even though I’m leaving.
Winona follows me into the house.
“You’re walking well, even after a game.”
“I feel good. Treatment helps.”
“I’m so glad.”
I sit on the couch. Instead of her usual chair, Winona comes and sits next to me.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come over yesterday. I was … tired.”
“Cass told me.”
“Cass … ?” Winona glances down and then lifts her eyes to meet mine. “She told you about what happened at the game?”
“She had assumed you already told me.”
“I didn’t want to sour your first game back. It was fine. I handled it. I wanted to be there to support you no matter what.”
“I know. And I knew it every time I stepped onto the field. I knew where you were in the stands and I played knowing you were watching.”
She smiles.
“But this has gone too far, Winona.”
“It’s okay, Declan.”
“No. It’s not. And I’ve done a lot of thinking. I called Kate too.”
She’s quiet.
“If we call this off, the spotlight will shift off you. Maybe it will take a few days or even a week, but they won’t stalk you. People will lose interest in you. And you won’t have to endure this kind of treatment anymore.”
Her body flinches and her brows draw in. “Are you saying you’re breaking up with me?”
I place my hand over hers.
A tear comes to my eye and I don’t bother swiping it. I don’t want her to think this is easy when I’ve never felt more pain in my life.
“We can't do this. I can't watch you be eaten alive by the media. I want to protect you. You deserve to be safe.” I squeeze her hand. “I can't live with myself knowing I'm the one who is shedding a spotlight on you and bringing unwarranted hate and constant scrutiny to your doorstep.”
She shakes her head, reaching out and cupping my jaw. “I'm willing to endure all of it, Declan. If that's the price of loving you, I'll pay it.”
I smile over at her. It’s a weak smile, full of sadness and regret.
“If I believed this kind of hate had an expiration date, I'd let you endure it.
Even though it breaks me knowing what you've had to go through on my behalf.
But the fact is, this is one storm. There will be many more—unpredictable, repeated, never-ending storms. I can't ask you to put yourself into a lifestyle where you are constantly stalked and belittled.”
Her bright blue eyes hold mine and I wordlessly plead with her to know my heart.
“I can't be the reason you are stalked and mocked and hated by people who don't even know you.”
Winona stares at me, searching my eyes, turning her hand over and clasping mine.
When she speaks, her voice cracks. “Maybe I don't belong in your world.” She shakes her head as if fighting conflicting thoughts.
She reaches out to cup my jaw again. Her touch is a comfort and a taunt. I’ll never have this again.
Quietly, she says, “Maybe love isn't enough when the whole world is bent on tearing us apart.”
I nod. “That’s what Kate said too.”
I don’t mention my parents’ call. I don’t tell her about the conversation I had with the guys on our group chat before I went to sleep.
They started out by telling me I’m crazy.
They said Winona’s the best thing that ever happened to me—as if I don’t know that.
But, by the time I had explained my thoughts, they agreed. I owe her this.
Winona looks at me. “Can I have a hug?” Tears stream down her cheeks.
My tears start falling too.
This is it. The end.
I tug her into a hug and we hold on to one another. I whisper, “I love you,” into her hair and she says, “I’ll always love you, Declan. Always.”
When she pulls back, tilting her head up to look at me, her face is splotchy and red, her eyes slightly bloodshot. I’m sure I’m a mirror of her pain.
I place one soft kiss on her lips.
Then I reach out and wipe a tear off her cheek.
She wipes one off mine.
“I wish it were different,” I tell her.
“I know. Me too.”
She stands to leave. “I could stay, but … then what?”
“Do you want to take Geese?” I ask like we’re in a divorce and we have to figure out custody.
“No. Geese is yours.”
“I’ll take good care of her.”
“You always have.”
We’re silent on the walk out to her car. I hug her again, holding on longer than usual. She clings to me and then she pulls away.
“I understand why you’re doing this.” She steps away, looking into my eyes one last time.
“I want to protect you.” I stay put even though everything in me tugs to step closer to her, to hold her one last time.
“I love your heart, Declan. You’re a good man.”
I don’t understand why being good makes me feel worse than I’ve ever felt in my life.
She climbs into her car without another word or glance in my direction.
I watch her drive away. The gate closes behind her with a clang.
I walk back into my house—alone.