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“Then what?” Anthony rubs his head. “What does Charly want that you can’t give her?”
I spread my arms out wide. “I don’t know, okay? Just forget it. I don’t expect you guys to understand. You’re still living the dream. Everyone still worships you every time you step out on that field. You don’t get what I’ve been through.”
Watson stalks toward me, anger flashing in his eyes. “No. You don’t get to give us the whole you don’t get me speech. We’re not dumb.” He pauses, cutting a glance to Anthony. “Well, some of us aren’t.”
Anthony flips him off.
“If you want us to understand, you can communicate and tell us.” Watson stands toe to toe with me, lifting his chin a fraction. “But I don’t think that’s the issue here. It sounds like you’re being a scared little bitch.”
“Watson,” Bentley starts.
“No, no. It’s been six years. I’d say it’s about time we stop coddling him.” Watson folds his arms over his chest. “What Ariel did to you, selling you out like that and making up lies, it was fucked up. And yeah, the media ran with it. That’s nothing new. That’s what the media always does. They twist shit, and try to make us all look like chumps because it puts money in their pockets. But instead of facing it, and setting the story straight, you ran away to your grandma, and gave up everything.
“We have a PR team who could’ve handled it. You could’ve made a statement, and brushed it off. Ariel wouldn’t have been a blip on anyone’s radar. Coach would’ve helped you, whether you wanted to play on special teams, or get you a coaching position somewhere. Even if it wasn’t with us, you could’ve still been involved in the game you loved. But you backed down, and you let Ariel win. You let the asshole who instigated that fight in the bar win.” Watson pokes my forehead with his finger. “You let your demons win.”
The room falls eerily quiet. Not even Anthony has a smartass comment to make.
Watson holds up his palms. “Look, I’m sorry if I crossed the line, but—”
“No.” I blow out a long breath through my lips. “You didn’t cross a line, and you’re not wrong. It was difficult going through what I went through. I was scared. I was angry. And I was bitter. I overcame a lot, but I guess the one thing I wasn’t able to shake was the guilt. I was responsible for what happened to my spine. I didn’t fall off a horse, and I wasn’t in a car accident. Nothing happened to me. I was the one who made the choice to fight while I was drunk in a bar, and when the media started saying all those horrible things about me, I let myself believe them.”
Bentley walks around the corner of the island. “You don’t deserve what happened to you, regardless of how it happened. No one deserves to have a lifelong injury.”
Anthony nods. “You have to make the best of what you’ve got. And looking around this kitchen right now, you’ve got a lot.”
“You have Nana, and this beautiful inn,” Watson adds.
“And you have Charly.” Bentley stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I know she’s angry with you, but she’s only angry because she’s hurt. And if it’s hurt, that means she still cares about you. So, we can work with that.”
“We?” I arch an eyebrow.
“We’re a team, baby.” Anthony rubs his palms together, and a sly grin spreads across his face. “Huddle up, boys. Let your team captain tell you what our next play is gonna be.”
Charly
“Where’s your phone? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning.”
I close the door behind Jenny. “I turned it off.”
“Is he still calling?”
I nod, and slump down onto the couch. “I haven’t listened to any of the voicemails.”
She bounces onto the cushion beside me, and kicks off her sneakers. “You look like shit. I can take your shift tonight if you want.”
I shake my head. “No. I need to stay busy. I asked Santiago to put me down for a double, but he wouldn’t let me.”
“Probably because you’re starting to scare away the customers.”
I cut her a glare. “Thanks.”
She holds up her palms. “I’m just telling you the truth. People are coming to the diner asking if there’s really a grumpy little troll serving food.”
A small laugh bubbles out of me. “Screw you. I do not look like a troll.”
“Aha. Got you to laugh.” She nudges me with her elbow. “It’s been two weeks. How long are you going to avoid him for before you listen to what he has to say?”
“As long as it takes to get him out of my head.”
