Chapter 36 #3
She’s quiet for a few beats but says something I’m not expecting. “I think I will.” She slips into silence once more before she says, “There’s something not right going on. I’ve stopped drinking and I’m seeing things more clearly.”
She’s stopped drinking? My mother has been drinking heavily since I was a kid. I mean, who wouldn’t with a father like mine? So that means she knows she deserves better.
“Really?” I ask, excitement chasing away the pain. “Oh Mom, I would love that.”
“Me too, honey. How—” She stops talking, but I hear arguing in the background. She hisses “no” three times before there’s fumbling on the other end.
I start to ask her if everything is alright, but before I can, my father’s baritone voice greets me. “Chance. What happened at the meet?”
Dammit. I wanted more time to prepare myself for his bullshit before I had to tell him. But I won’t put it off. It’ll only make things worse. “I tore my rotator cuff.”
“What?” he shouts down the phone, making me pull it away from my ear.
“Chance, I’m disappointed in you. How will you attend the Olympic trials with a torn rotator cuff?
” I open my mouth to speak, but he just talks over me.
“Well, recovery for an injury like that, even with the best physical therapist, takes about half a year. Then you can compete in the next trials. You’ll have to work hard to keep up with the younger men in four more years, but I know you can do it.
We’ll have to adjust your schedule to fit in training. We…”
My anger boils over and I almost feel steam coming out of my ears. He only cares about the fucking Olympics. The entire time he’s been rambling—mapping out my future for me—he hasn’t once asked how I am. All he cares about is his vision for me.
No more. I’m fucking done.
Interrupting him, I say, “No, Dad. I’m not going to the fucking Olympics.”
The silence on the other end of the phone is so acute I can hear a pin drop.
“What did you say?” he asks in a deadly quiet voice, one that usually makes me take back whatever I said, shrinking into myself. Not this time.
“I said I’m not going to the Olympics. I’ve never wanted to go.
Wanna know why I got hurt? Training too fucking hard for your dream.
” Warren rests a hand on my left arm, and I absorb his strength like a thirsty man in a desert guzzling water.
“I won’t be attending the trials in four years.
My season has ended and so has my swimming career. I’m fucking done.”
With that, I hang up my phone and toss it to the end of the hospital bed.
I shut my eyes, letting the tears flow.
It’s more than the pain of my injury; it’s the pain in my heart. I knew my father didn’t really care about me—he showed it in more ways than one. But it just hit me how much he doesn’t. He’s been grooming me my entire life to be a swimming prodigy, something he was never able to be.
Despite what he’s shown me, I thought if ever I got hurt, he’d care enough to put that aside and actually love me.
A warm weight rests on my left shoulder as Warren hugs me gently. “I’m sorry, Chance.”
A humorless laugh escapes my throat. “It’s okay. I figured…he didn’t care, you know? He’s just finally shown it.”
Thorne rubs my leg gently, looking at me with the softest expression I’ve ever seen him wear. More tears well up, but I fight to push them back. “Don’t worry, Golden. You have us. And we’re not going anywhere.”
“No, we’re not,” Warren agrees, then kisses me gently. I sigh against his mouth, then dive back in to deepen it. “We’ll take care of you. And when your mom comes, she can stay at my place until she gets on her feet.”
“Thank you, baby,” I whisper before kissing him again.
Thorne stands and kisses my forehead, his soft lips lingering. “Anything you need.”
I lie cocooned between them, soaking up their care and acceptance until the pain becomes too unbearable.
Warren presses the call button and the nurse comes in, eyeing them both. “Visiting hours have been over for a while, gentlemen.”
“We’re leaving,” Thorne says, but not before kissing me gently. “Call me in the morning. I’ll come back to visit.”
“You have class,” I say weakly. I want nothing more than for Thorne to sit with me while I try to figure out what to do with my life now that I don’t have swimming.
“You’re more important than classes, Golden.” He kisses me once more, then wraps his arm around Warren and leads him out.
I watch them go, a weight settling on my chest. I want nothing more than to go with them.
The nurse asks me all kinds of questions and takes my vitals. Before she leaves, she says, “The doctor has you on the surgical schedule for the day after tomorrow. Then you’ll be discharged to heal at home the day after that, barring no complications.”
Surgery. Fuck, I really fucked up by not getting myself checked out earlier.
But there’s nothing I can do about it now. I just have to take care of myself better going forward.
I smile, knowing that I’ll have Warren and Thorne in my life to remind me.