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“Life is about purpose,” she says. “We all have one.”
I let my head fall back against the headboard. “Are you here to tell me what my purpose is?”
She scoffs. “No one can tell you what your purpose is. You have to discover it.”
I had a purpose once. Football was my reason for getting up every morning, for working hard, training, pushing my body to the limits. My team depended on me. I had one goal—to make sure the quarterback didn’t complete his pass. And I was good at it.
“You assume football was your purpose.” Nana arches an eyebrow. “Right?”
I nod.
“Football was your career. And sure, in your career, you served a purpose. We all do. But that’s not the only job you have in life.” A distant smile touches her lips. “Your father wore many hats. But if you asked him what his purpose was? He wouldn’t list his job title. He’d say his purpose was to love his family—you, and your mother. To provide for you, to take care of you, to teach you, to help you grow into a man who could one day do the same for his family.”
Disappointment burns deep in my gut. “Well, I won’t be having my own family.”
“You could.”
“I won’t.”
“You won’t have much of anything if you keep pushing everyone away.”
I scrub my hands over my face, my composure wearing thinner than it has in years. “It’s better to push them away than to have them walk away. At least then I have control over something in my fucking life.”
“Control.” Nana lets the word settle between us. “Everyone wants control over things they have no business controlling. You know what you should focus your energy on controlling? Your fear. You’re so afraid of getting hurt, of trusting, and you’re letting it dictate your life.”
“Fear is important. It keeps you safe.”
“Sometimes that’s true. But other times, it just holds you back. I can’t stand watching you do this to yourself, and I don’t know what it’s going to take to get it through to you. People are out there worse off than you are, Bryce. People are doing a lot more with a lot less than what you’ve been blessed with.”
My voice strains as I try not to yell at my grandmother. “I know that. But they also haven’t had someone they trusted spread lies to every news station in the country, and turn the world against them. People used to love me. They used to cheer for me when I stepped out onto that field. Kids wanted to be like me. After Ariel’s story aired, everyone turned their backs on me. I lost everything. Very few people can understand what that’s like.”
Nana’s eyes widen, as if she’s having a revelation. “You keep saying you don’t trust people, but maybe it’s you who you don’t trust. Maybe deep down, you believe what everyone said about you. Maybe you haven’t fully forgiven yourself for the fight you got into with that man in the bar.”
Monster.
Out of control.
Reckless.
Foolish.
Selfish.
The headlines of every article written about me flash through my mind on a reel as tears burn behind my lids. “I went from being a champion—a wonder, a hero, a role model—to the piece of shit who let everyone down and threw his career away.”
Nana rests her hands on my shoulders. “You carried too much pressure on these shoulders, my boy. It’s the life of a professional athlete. But you’re not superhuman. The media might chew you up and spit you out, but that’s not reality. It’s not the truth. You know who you are deep down. You’re a good man who made a mistake.”
She glances down at Edward, and strokes the top of his head. “If you learn from your mistakes, and continue to learn and grow, then you can show the world who you really are. Don’t stay stuck in the past. Don’t assume you’re unlovable because you’re not perfect. No one is.”
I push a shaky hand through my hair. I know Nana is right. I know that, logically. But I don’t know how to let myself believe it, and move forward.
Nana smirks. “Besides, OJ Simpson got away with murder, and people still love him. The world can learn to love you again.”
I laugh despite the pain in my chest. “You’re comparing me to OJ? That doesn’t help.”
“But it got you to smile.” She pats my knee as she rises from the bed. “You let that amazing girl walk out of your life with tears in her eyes thinking she wasn’t good enough to be what you need, when you’re the one who feels like he isn’t good enough for her.” She jabs her finger into my chest. “I just hope you can live with that.”
Her final words serve as the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
