39. Chapter 39
Dom
Evie and Pen gaze at each other and take quick, excited breaths.
"It's the first time we get to participate!" Pen says.
I lift my hands as if I can stop them.
"It's not an intervention," I try.
Rafa, distracted up to that point, smirks at me. "I'm pretty sure it is."
"I'm so fucking thrilled!" Evie grins and waves her hands in an encouraging manner. "Come on, let us watch. Do your thing."
"My Evie— I love you," Logan says. "But don't commentate on the intervention."
I start backing away slowly.
"But we have to report to Nat and Ames!" Evie argues. "They'll be really sad to miss out on this."
I grab my crutches and try to take a few steps out of the group.
"Evie," Logan insists, but he also goes around me and, with firm hands on my shoulders, brings me back to the circle. "Don't give him a chance to escape."
Evie nods and pretends to lock her mouth closed.
"It's not like I would have been fast," I complain. "Fucking injury."
Bear chuckles. "No need to make a run for it. You know we're just trying to help."
"So, what are you going to do about Mariana this time?" Saint asks.
Logan cocks his head. "You would have to be more assertive with her parents than you already were."
"You don't get it." I cast my eyes to the floor. "It's not that simple."
The terrace I've made into my territory is predominantly white, with swatches of an ochre tone. I have no idea what kind of material it is. I'm tempted to get my phone out and look it up. Use it as a short distraction. If I can't run, I can try this instead.
If I could, I'd make distance between my heart and confronting this. The breakup— the end will hurt even more if I'm not careful.
"It never is simple." Bear's deep voice grabs my attention. "You think it was simple to risk losing Pen if we messed up our relationship?"
"I had to wait years to get my chance with Evie." Logan takes his fiancée's hand. "And she did not want to fall for me. Nothing simple about that either."
"You remember how I struggled to believe I could be with Ames the way I wanted to be," Saint says. "If it weren't for an intervention just like this one, I may have never dared. But I got everything I wanted and more. Will you let us help you do the same?"
I shake my head. It's a small movement— I'm not really fighting my friends now, but my indecision. A heavy, gray wave of discomfort rises around me. It takes over from the bottom up.
I purse my lips. "This is all assuming that what I want is to be with her."
"And it's not?" Logan asks in the sternest, most incredulous tone he can muster.
Fuck. I roll my shoulders. My heart beats faster, predicting a threat I can't yet see. Whatever it is, it's directly linked to the questions they're asking. And the things I'm avoiding. All for fear of what's to come.
"I want to fix things," I venture. "But it doesn't mean it will end in us being together."
Logan frowns. "Explain."
Perhaps I should. I've tried to keep my friends out of this, and it didn't work. Maybe it's time to change tactics again. My ignorance could cost me new regrets if I don't face everything head on, and they won't let me look away.
I may be a fool at times, but I'm not a coward.
I close my eyes. It's easier to look inwards that way.
"When Mariana and I got together in college, it was with the understanding that we'd split up.
She had to leave after graduation. I almost did something to prevent the breakup, but her dad changed my mind.
Mariana had a future I could not help her with.
The least I could do was not stop her from going for it. "
I had been planning how in hell to venture the idea of staying in the relationship.
England had no football opportunities for me, but perhaps she might still have a career on this side of the pond…
except asking her to stay seemed wrong. I rolled it over and over in my head, trying to find a new angle.
New options. Anything. Even trying long distance, despite not seeing when we'd be able to be together again.
Could we make it past a decade or two of working through careers that would keep us apart?
Seeing each other between football seasons, and any short trips she could take when it fit both our schedules?
Until her trip was only two weeks away, and urgency began affecting my sleep.
Even my appetite. I don't know what James saw that day, or if he'd been planning it for a while, but he took me aside that Friday after dinner.
We went to his home office. He offered me scotch.
Then he told me he was simply a loving father, wanting to talk to a young man who loved Mariana too.
As an older, wiser man today, I know James used my love to convince me that letting her go was the best thing I could do for her. But I know it was my mistake, too.
I gaze at the party and the tents, the trees, and a hundred different faces. Yet if someone were to ask me to describe what I saw, I wouldn't have a clue.
I take a deep breath. "Flash forward to getting drafted and realizing I had so much more to offer to someone who had it all.
Only to find out she was going to get fucking married.
Married. Talk about the future she designed for herself, when she didn't have me to slow her down.
A royal. A great job in the field of her choice.
What could I do about it? Nothing. But in my despair, I tried the only thing I could think of.
The thing I was too chickenshit to do while I still had her.
I asked her to change her mind. She didn't."
I should have never listened to James. Age isn't an excuse for not realizing that our love had nothing to do with what we could give each other.
Now I have to live with the old, deep-rooted guilt of watching her cry as we said goodbye.
When I said nothing if not to comfort her, and did nothing but hold her close and hold back tears.
Even back then, I chose her and her happiness. I supported the version she chose of herself.
"That sounds awful," Pen says.
Saint puts a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry that went wrong."
I shake my head. "There are things you don't know about my story with Mariana. I don't blame you for that— we've kept it quiet."
"And now you're looking back," Rafa says, "and you're thinking you should learn from everything."
His smile is small and understanding, and I let it turn into a warm ember within my chest.
I nod. "So I want to fix it. Mariana does too. To us, that means that if we know we're going to end things again, then we'll be good about it this time."
"But why break up?" Evie asks. "Isn't it going well?"
Two weeks of seeing her smile first thing in the morning.
Of laughing with her at night, and holding her close as she gazes at me with sparkling eyes.
Of small, stolen moments during the day, ending in a sweet kiss goodnight.
The fact she came to the hospital, because knowing I was okay mattered more than anything.
And that little smile she gets every time I remind her to drink enough water and eat something.
Yeah. Things have been great. Mundane and intimate. I could have a whole life full of days like these.
"Things are going really well," I say, "but she's leaving. Do you really think we can do this long-distance? Hell, if it's going well, maybe it is because of the promise we made to let each other go. Am I supposed to break it?"
"It doesn't sit right that the way to fix things is to never tell her how you feel," Pen argues.
"Are you at least admitting to yourself what you feel?" Bear asks.
I gaze back at the tall, big man, with his thick black beard and that stark, white scar on his top lip. His eyes are serious on me. It forces me to truly consider his question and, well, no. No. I haven't. I've been protecting myself.
My breathing quickens. "I swore I wouldn't put myself in this situation again. First, I tried to be good and let her go, and it broke me. Then I didn't care if I was being bad, so I called her and tried to make it work. It failed. Now I'm going for yet another chance?"
"La tercera es la vencida," Pen says.
The expression hits my chest like a sucker punch. I'm not sure if I truly sway on my spot or if it's an illusion. Regardless, I'm hung up on the words.
I told that to Mariana twice since she came back. Mostly as a joke.
Out of my friend's mouth, it's a trigger.
Third time's the charm, they say. But what ending am I truly hoping to get here?
Peace, like I told Mariana? Friendship? Or something else? Because if it's something else, I need to name it. And I need to understand why I want it. What the point is of going for it. Otherwise it's not a choice. Then it's fixing nothing.
But if I label what I feel and what I want… and it means risking everything again for a future with Mariana…
"Is having a smooth break up the best thing you can think of to fix?" Saint asks.
Bear nods in agreement. "Is that what will make you the happiest?"
I breathe fast. "Too much of a gamble."
"But it's always a gamble!" Pen exclaims.
Rafa takes a step closer, until I have no choice but to look him in the eye. "I know more than most how much you wager when you bet on one person to be your partner for the rest of your life. In a way, you fear the pain again and, believe me, I get that."
I gulp. I may be getting lightheaded.
"But what is the alternative?" he continues. "Never meeting Gabby and falling for her? Not getting to celebrate it with a perfect wedding? Hell, not having my daughter?"
Shit. I can't keep up with my heart, or the visions my friend conjures up. And the cost of getting it wrong. Or getting it right, and doing the right thing, for it all to end wrong anyway.
"Fuck, Rafa," I say. "Maybe I'm not as strong as you are."
"Bullshit." His eyes demand better of me. "I'm not stronger than any other human being. So pick your battle, Dom. What is the mistake you really want to fix?"
I stare back at him. Torn. Through the crack, hope glimmers, faint and uncertain. Veiled by a whole lot of doubt.
"No need to tell us," Logan says. "We'll know your decision soon enough."
"Just admit it to yourself," Bear says. "If you want to learn from your past, you have to figure out what the real mistakes were. You can't do that if you don't tell yourself the truth. Believe me, Dom. That's the real source of regret."
I tell my friends I need time. I follow a stone path to a lonely, mid-sized fountain, surrounded by manicured cedar trees.
I gingerly sit on the fountain's basin rim.
The secondary, small garden I'm in is somewhat removed from the action.
Just past the main property building, it's the perfect place to take a breath and think.
The sound of trickling water soothes me. I close my eyes for a moment. I focus on it. My brain finds the peace of white noise, with the toned-down buzzing of conversation back at the party, and the insistent echo of my friends' intervention.
I need to label what I feel, so I know what I want… and whether it's worth ignoring my pride. I'd be risking parts of my life I fought hard for if I go for it. Either way, I'm facing regret. For the things I did and didn't do, and the different futures unfolding at my feet.
From where I sit, I can only see a sliver of tents and garlands.
Nothing has changed, but details are clear again.
The muted colors, the grain of thick-cotton canopies, and moving clouds in the sky.
Describing the world does the trick. Words for what I feel start falling into place.
These wants, these needs have been hidden behind thick fog for weeks, but the sun is finally strong enough to cast light over them.
After the past few months, and the past couple of weeks, with how easy we've fallen into a simple life together…
with how easily she imprinted in my home, and in my life…
With the way my heart beats around her, and the way time slows down when we're having a simple evening, or speeds up when she shows me how much she wants me…
The scent of cedar fills my lungs. I release it slowly.
I've always been a fool, but I'm not a liar.
I'm in love with Mariana. Still. Again. Avoiding a label wouldn't have hidden it from me for much longer. As much as I've fought it since she got her plane ticket, and after I got blocked for calling her. I got used to living with it but now, after going through everything again after her return…
My soul cracks open. Dam gates have been unlocked. My chest floods with everything I feel for her. It's hard to breathe, my chest is so full. The fountain behind me could fully dry up, and it wouldn't change the fact that I'm drowning in my love for her.
I look up at the sky. I try to swallow back the tide.
It doesn't help. Fuck, but I'm right back to the place where I was six years ago.
Mariana will leave. London is her destination.
If there's one mistake I regret it's not telling her that I'd do anything to make this work.
Hell, I'll even make distance work. She was gone already, far away for six years, and it didn't change what I feel for her.
I'll retire soon enough. I'll move to England if that's where she needs to be.
When Mariana herself appears from around a tree and smiles at me, my feelings split.
Three ticks of my heart, and I know what I'm ready for— standing up to her parents, sticking to a plan that involves her in my life, going the distance.
But I don't know where she wants to go. If she wants the same.
If she's willing to do hard things for the sake of a future together.
My brain rearranges my synapsis into a new vision. I promised myself I wouldn't put myself in this position again. But risking another heartbreak is the only way to give myself a chance at what I truly want— a life with Mariana.
I need to ask her. Get her to figure out what she wants without anyone's influence, not even mine. Because after she knows, we'll get to make choices that are only hers, and only mine.
This is the right way. It builds the foundations to fix my biggest mistake. The one where I never told her I don't want to ever lose her.