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I laugh. “Thanks, Sam!” I yell, knowing she can hear me just like I could hear every word Eddie Nash said to his son a short while ago.
“Welcome!” she yells back from the driver’s seat.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t come home? I can take you out for ice cream…” I’m scrambling to figure out what bribe I can deliver that will work with him.
“Sam already promised ice cream, and no, Mom. I know this is a big deal for your job, and there’s nothing you can do anyway.”
“What kind of cast did you get?” I ask.
“It’s Minecraft green.” He says it proudly, and I can’t help my giggle.
“Of course it is. I’m proud of you for being so brave.” I want to ask if it hurts, but I also don’t want to know. Poor kid. My heart breaks that so many miles separate us, but at the same time…he sounds fine. “I hate not being there with you, honey.” I look up at the ceiling as the threat of tears pinches behind my eyes. I know he can’t see me, but I don’t want to break down over the phone when I need to be strong for him.
“I know, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you more. I’ll call you before I go to bed, okay? Video this time so I can see your arm.”
“Okay. Bye.” He hangs up, and I set my phone beside me on the bed as I let a few tears tip over.
My dinner arrives, and I eat in the room as I wonder where Lincoln went and whether he’s with some other woman since clearly this isn’t going to work between the two of us.
I wonder if he’ll come back at all tonight or if he’ll just sleep over at her place.
The thought claws at my very soul.
It’s masochistic and I’m not sure why I’m thinking that way at all. But just because he is the only one I want to be with doesn’t mean that works the same in reverse.
We didn’t talk about who is sleeping where, but there’s nowhere for either of us to go aside from the bed or the floor.
So after I’m done eating, I take some sleep medicine, call Jonah, slip onto one side of the bed, turn on trashy reality television, and fall asleep before he even gets back.
CHAPTER 11: LINCOLN
I should get back to my hotel room.
I’ve got an early morning tomorrow, and I need to get a good night’s sleep ahead of my big speech.
But I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to face her when all I want to do is take her in my arms and remind her why we were once so good together.
So instead I’m sitting in the lobby bar with my agent, Sean Ryan, listening to him drone on and on about different potential business ventures that really don’t interest me, and this is after I spent the last hour schmoozing with the current coach and some players here at the university.
It’s got my mind wandering to what does interest me, though.
I’ve never needed to give much thought to what I want to do after all this.
I make a good living. The offer that came from the Aces was more than generous.
But still, when the time comes and I no longer want to do this anymore, or if I can’t…what comes next?
I’m not going to coach until I die. It’s a huge commitment to coach at all, and at some point I’ll want to do something else. I’ll want to retire and maybe travel the world. I’ll want some side hustle to keep me busy. Coaches don’t get the same kind of time off players do, but we don’t put our bodies through what players do, either—and still, most of the players I know have side hustles and other interests.
I’ve never had a side hustle. What are my other interests?
It’s always been football first and football only. I never really had any other interests, hobbies, or talents aside from sports.
I have a degree in business, which is a good background to have as a coach, though I often think psychology would’ve been a better fit.
Still, neither of those interests really narrow down the field of what comes next.
