Me: You think we can FaceTime tonight?
Lucas: Maybe.
Adding salt to my wounds, were the social media posts of Lucas that showed him seemingly partying with Damian Hicks. Seeing the two of them surrounded by tall libations and beautiful women, picked at my unhealed scab of fears of him partying, tossing money around, meeting another woman, and hurting me.
Thoughts swirled in my head, questioning whether or notthiswas going to be the story of my life. Synopsis:What Happens When A Book Blogger Accidentally Publishes Her Digital Diary Online? A Viral Shitstorm. The first few chapters—even the middle—are unforgettable, the last chapters, however, filled with pages that lead to a bitter disappointment of no happily-ever-after.
Loneliness whacked me like an axe. Everyone I knew out of reach.
Sage decided to spend the month with her parents all the way in Buttcrack, Nebraska. And Chloe was slammed, interning atHot Shot,hating and loving the rush that had her too beat for words with no desire to hang out with pitiful me.
I could have reached out to Mom, cried on her virtual shoulder, but I didn’t want to hint a witch’s brew of darkness was around me, my pride too thick to penetrate.
Lucky for me, our condo happened to be in one of New York’s trendiest of cities. Tribeca was life, vibrant decadence that my crushed soul craved. And when I ventured out on my own, I ended up getting my food to go, too annoyed, saddened by happy couples practically shoving their public displays of affection down my throat.
I was gone, dead inside, unable to grasp how my rock met bottom so fast.
Saturday came, and I was looking forward to my Lucas being home that weekend, a time for us to talk, clear the air, resurrect a love, an unbreakable bond that, for reasons unknown, was on a flight destined to crash and burn.
But an hour before he was expected home, I was met with a text message that may as well have been a firebomb to my heart.
Lucas:Not gonna make it home this weekend.
37
Strategy.
It’s how the game is played.
Plans of action or plays used to move the ball down the field, closer to the goal.
I needed to move Macy down the field, so to speak. Move her closer to achieving her dream, closer to her goal.
Macy:Why aren’t you gonna make it home this weekend?
God,I could almost hear,feel, her heart crumbling as she typed that text, because, truth is, mine did, too.
Dread filled my stomach, the agony of hurting her ripping every fiber of my being.
I hated being the dick who didn’t answer her calls or reply to texts, hated being the asshole who went out drinking with teammates, surrounding myself with other women, hated being the fuckwad who didn’t come home.
I knew that hurt her, a blow below the belt she didn’t deserve.
Fuck, it hurt—destroyed—me to emotionally torture the woman I so desperately loved.
But at the time, it was the best strategy, the best way to get Macy to acceptCosmo’sjob offer in London. If she didn’t, odds were she would have ended up hating me down the line anyway. See, after Sage spilled all the tea, Dad’s advice popped to mind.
Your mom put her career dreams on hold while I was out there on the gridiron living mine… I’ve always wondered if she would have been even happier doing what her heart desired sooner rather than later.
The last thing I wanted was for Macynotto accept the offer in London, then hate me, grow resentful toward me later. Especially given the fact she’d already lost out on an even more amazing opportunity withHot Shot,the guilt of knowing that slicing deep.
Strategies come with risks, gambles you place, hoping for the best outcome, and in the process, someone could end up hurt. My strategic mind strongly believed if I let Macy go, she’d be back since I knew we were meant to be. She just needed someone to give her wings to fly, a push, a reason to explore her opportunities as I had mine.
“You’re not going home to Macy this weekend?” AJ packed his tattered UCLA duffle bag—the one he should have already replaced with a brand-new NY Jets duffle bag—with pants, shorts, socks, and his tablet.
I plopped onto the couch inside our hotel suite, located on training campgrounds, and pointed the remote to the television. “Nope, just gonna hang out with Damian for the weekend.”
He scoffed. “Dude, don’t tell me you’re still trying to get Macy to hate you? Because hanging out with that prick, well, I may just end up hating you.”
