Page 144 of With the Assist

“What happened?” He asks.

“Nothing happened. It was always fake. It was always supposed to end.”

Grayson turns on the bed so he’s facing me fully. “That’s all it was?”

I swallow because it feels wrong to lie about what it meant to me.

“We got a little too involved, but that doesn’t mean the plan ever changed.”

“You’re not acting like any of it was fake.”

The words are on the tip of my tongue, but convincing him it was nothing would be as impossible as convincing myself of it.

“It wasn’t. At least, not to me. And not to her, not really. But now, I guess none of that matters.”

He doesn’t interrupt, so I keep going. I shouldn’t, but the pressure has been building for days, and he’s always been good at finding the cracks.

“She made her choice. Soccer was always going to be her choice. It was never going to be me.” I finally look at him. “And it’s for the best.”

Grayson raises an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t even sure how much I wanted her.” The lie tastes thin as it rolls off my tongue. “Or if I was just scared that I couldn’t playas well without her. I mean, I only pursued her so she’d help me cross-train in the first place.”

Grayson stares at me for a second before laughing right in my face. It’s loud and immediately grates on my nerves.

“Are you shitting me right now?” I glare at him.

“That’s such bullshit,” he says between breaths.

“You don’t know that.”

“I absolutely do,” he replies calmly. “You’ve played your entire life. You were elite before Wesley. You never needed her to train with you, you dumbass. You wanted an excuse to spend time with her.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he keeps going.

“And if it being over was for the best,” he adds, holding his hand up to keep me from speaking, “you wouldn’t be this miserable.”

That shuts me up entirely.

I played damn good tonight. My body moved instinctually out there. My mind never drifted towards her. I was focused and unstoppable. It was only after the whistle blew that she consumed my thoughts.

I’ve been telling myself that I needed her help because it’s easier than admitting the truth that it was never about need. It was about want. I wanted her. Want her.

But what good does that do now? Denial hurts less. At least then I can protect myself from wanting someone who doesn’t want me enough.

“I’m not enough.” The words are barely audible and more to myself than to him. “I never am. Not for her. Not for…” I let the words trail off and stand up, turning off one of the lights.

Thankfully, Grayson gets the hint, grabbing his jacket off the chair. “Seems to me it was never about if you can still perform without her, but more about if she can still perform with you.” He pulls the door open. “And if you let her go without a fight, neither of you will ever really know about any of it.”

The door clicks shut behind him.

I pace the room, my frustration growing to a new high as Grayson’s words replay in my head. She ended this. She didn’t even want to try. I’d have chosen her if I could have.

It wasn’t my choice. Letting her go was the only thing I could think to do. I loved her too much to put myself in the race against her dreams.

Shit.

I love her.