I look up at him and smile. I mean, how can I not smile when such a fine specimen is standing in front of me with only a towel between me and ecstasy?
My smile falls as soon as I see the clouded look on his face. “What’s wrong? Is it your shoulder?”
Reflexively he rolls it back and doesn’t even grimace. “I think it’s starting to mend. Good thing, too, because I’m heading back tomorrow, and I’ve got to get back to my workouts.”
Tomorrow. This all ends tomorrow. Or does it? But he’s talking about getting back to training, which will take up all of his time. As it should. This is his job, and he’s at the apex of his career. But what if he pushes too hard and hurts himself more? He was definitely in pain last night.
I lift my eyebrows. “Will you at least talk to the trainer or the PT? They can help. It’s not a sign of weakness, admitting something’s not right. You don’t want to wait until it’s too late and then it all blows up catastrophically.”
I speak from experience.
“I guess.” He sits down on the edge of the bed next to me and takes a long pull from the bottle of water I set out for him.
The last twenty-four hours have been such a whirlwind that I haven’t had time to think about what comes after ... tonight. “So, we should probably talk at some point.”
“What’s there to talk about?” His back is still to me.
His words land like a punch to the solar plexus, and I find myself recoiling to the other side of the bed.
I should have known. I should have known that Callaghan Entay will never want more. He’s not capable of more. He’s only capable of focusing on one thing at a time, and that’s his career.
Not everyone gets as easily sidelined and distracted as me.
What is it about this man that can make me forget what all my hopes and dreams are, simply to spend time with him? How could I have been so stupid? Again.
“I just thought ... I mean I know you’re busy but ...”
“Yeah, you know what my schedule is like.”
I nod, though his back is still to me. “I do. Soccer is your job. It’s your life. It’s who you are, right down to your molecular core.”
He finally turns, stretching out in the bed, his left hand behind his head while his right folds across his bare stomach. “At least you understand me.”
I roll away, my back to Callaghan, willing the tears not to start. The sad thing is, I do understand. Sure, I was hurt that he left Bloomington without looking back, but I understood. His career—built on talent and hard work—is something so few ever get to achieve. It’s a gift, and he can’t waste it.
On the other hand, I don’t know if I can walk away this time either. At least the last time, I had the whole almost-dying thing to distract me from my heartbreak. I’m hoping not to repeat that mistake.
I roll back to face him. I have to let him know I don’t want this to end tonight. We’ve only started our second chance. “I’m sure your schedule is packed, but you always know where to find me.”
He turns his head to look at me. “Are you sure you want that? Didn’t I ruin your life?”
Heat floods my face as my own words ricochet through my brain. Of course, I said that to him. Being in a mere ten-foot radius of Callaghan Entay causes my senses to fly out of my brain. “I mean ... kind of, but not on purpose.”
He slides his right arm gingerly up under the pillow. This is more than he was doing with it yesterday, so that’s a good sign, right?
“You have to explain. You can’t keep saying things like that.”
He’s right. It’s time to fess up. Here goes nothing. I inhale. “So, you know how I left your apartment without even going to the bathroom that morning?”
“I remember you said that and then my roommates started calling you ‘Back Door Girl.’” He shakes his head. “That was a douche move on their part, but it shouldn’t have ruined your life. How did that keep you from having a career?”
I put my finger over his mouth to shush him so I can continue before I lose my nerve. “No, it wasn’t that. It was ... well, I developed a urinary tract infection. Not uncommon after sex. It’s why women should always empty their bladders after intercourse. I suppose I thought it was an old wives’ tale or something. Unfortunately, it is a real thing.”
I lower my hand. “But I was upset at your roommates, and I was upset that you left town without even saying goodbye, so I tried to ignore it. I didn’t want to go to Student Health and be another statistic about the ramifications of casual sex, and there was no way I was talking to the team doctor. Especially when everyone knew we slept together. So, I tried to manage it and thought it would go away eventually.”
I told him the rest, about how it traveled to my kidneys and the resultant sepsis. The prolonged hospital stay, the dialysis. How my left kidney never recovered and is considered non-functional. They left it in me, mainly because they were worried about my body undergoing the trauma of surgery while still recovering from sepsis.
“You almost died?” he asks.
