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“Go for it,” I say.
“Are you kidding me?” she yells, and I’m taken by surprise by her sudden outburst even though I knew it was coming.
Instead of answering, I blow out a sigh.
“You know my parents’ anniversary dinner is important to me! I can’t keep missing things that are important to me!” she yells, and she’s really going for the Academy Award here.
“I know, and I already told you that I’m sorry. I’m not sure what else you want from me.”
“Just a little of your time, Lincoln. You’re always working, and I’m not sure how to make us work when you can’t sacrifice any time for me.” She folds her arms over her chest. She keeps yelling at me, and I’m trying to remain steady and calm. Maybe I’m not quite the actor she is.
“That’s fair. You’re right. I am always working, and you knew that’s what it would be like to be in a relationship with me. My job has to come first.” I try to say it gently, but the words hit me as I say them.
It’s the crux of why I’m thirty-six and single.
My job has always come first. I’m not sure if that’s my father’s influence telling me that’s how it should be or if it was me burying myself in it so I didn’t have to deal with the pain of losing Jolene all those years ago, but here we are.
“I don’t know how much longer I can put up with it.” She storms away from me, and even though it’s for show and this relationship is fake anyway, it still hits me in the gut full throttle.
A woman is walking away from me because I’ve dedicated my life to the game.
But…is there more to life than football?
It’s a question that has come to mind before, but just as quicky as it arrived, I banished it.
It never mattered if there was because I was content with the way things were.
But maybe I’m not so content anymore. Maybe I want to wrestle around with that question a bit. Maybe I want to feel the discomfort it pulses in my stomach. I’ve schooled myself not to feel over the years, but being with Jolene again has shown me how much feeling I’ve been missing out on.
I don’t want to miss out anymore. And yet, somehow…we have to. And maybe that’s the tragic twist on this tale.
I blow out a breath as I let her go, and I hit the bar and grab myself a drink. Last minute, I grab another glass of wine for her, too.
People are watching. And even if they weren’t, it’s the gentlemanly thing to do. I’ll patch over our hiccup here with a glass of wine serving as the bandage, and we’ll pretend to make up from our pretend argument, and things will press onward.
Only…that’s not exactly how things go down.
We make up for show, and I drag her into my arms. I don’t kiss her, though. I never kiss her. How can I when I’m in love with her best friend? Even for the fake show, I can’t bring myself to do it. I’ll hold her hand. I’ll toss an arm around her shoulders. I’ll pretend to drag my lips near her cheek or along her neck. But my lips have never touched more than the back of her hand. I can’t do it to Jolene, no matter the cost.
And it appears that cost is higher this time than in the past.
I have a text waiting from Lorraine letting me know Jonah is at Sam’s with her and she needs to call off our night.
I let Sam know that, and rather than disrupting the balance that’s inside the house, I drop her off and don’t go inside.
I go home alone, which was never the plan, and when I arrive, I have a text waiting for me from Ellie.
Ellie: Might be time to end things. Article: Vegas Insider: A Look at the New Aces Head Coach’s Love Life
I heave out a frustrated breath and don’t bother clicking the article.
Me: I refuse to read that trash.
Ellie: Since it’s my job to read that trash, you should know there are accusations of you cheating.
Fuck.
I click the article.
