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Down, boy.
We ain’t going down this road again.
“Um, so how’s…Ty?” she asked, getting up from the rocker and moving to the chaise, lying down and pulling the blanket over her.
“He’s doing OK. Said his therapy sessions seem to be going well, that he’s learning a lot of coping skills. Said he isn’t having as many cravings recently. I’m a little worried about him, though. He’s…the only thing he’s doing is working out, like, constantly. And he looks amazing. Shit, I think he’s more ripped up than I am at this point. He just…he hasn’t really connected with anyone there. I ask him about friends, if he’s socializing with anyone, and he’s not. I think he’s sort of isolating himself from it all.”
Amara shrugged, yawning. “Makes sense. Ty’s not gonna open himself up to anyone he doesn’t fully trust, you know that. Especially while he’s dealing with this.”
“I know, I just…don’t want him to be lonely, you know? I try to talk to him as much as I can, and I know he’s been talking to TK, too. I don’t…” Ryan trailed off.
“Any word on TK’s progress?” she asked, but quickly followed up. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s…fine. He’s doing well, according to Hayes. Opted for the same sort of treatment plan, 35 days in and then 25 in some sort of sober living, outpatient facility. They’re both hoping to get back to playing by February or March, but who knows? It’s whatever the league decides, ultimately.”
“Do you miss him, Ryan?”
“TK? Hell no. Fuck that guy,” he joked, knowing full well she meant Hayes. “I mean, yeah, of course I miss him. But he needs to focus on himself right now, not me. I come in for the family therapy sessions, we talk almost every night, unless I have a late game. He sends me the saddest fucking songs and lyrics I’ve ever read and I cry myself to sleep nightly. I mean, Mar. Look at this shit.” He passed his phone to her so she could view last night’s snippet from Mayday Parade’s “Miserable at Best.”
“Aww, I love this song!” She gave the phone back, shaking her head. “Jesus, Ry. He does this every night?”
“Every. Night. And like, part of me wants to see if I can move on, get my mind off him. But it’s… the couple of Grindr dates I’ve gone on, if you can even call them dates, ended with me feeling like the biggest piece of shit on Earth because even though I’m not cheating on him, it still feels like I’m cheating on him.”
“Because you’re in love with him, Ryan. That doesn't just stop. It takes time.”
“Yeah.” He stared blankly at his hands in his lap. “This pain, this constant pain, it feels…” he said, looking up at her. “Oddly familiar.”
She nodded. “You’re a good man, Ry. For sticking by him.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about all that. Hey, can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“So, I’m not positive, but I think one of my d-men kinda has a thing for me. I mean, I’m still kinda navigating this gay shit, but he’s been real interested in working out with me, driving me home, that kinda stuff. He…actually invited me to go out on his boat with him tomorrow after practice. It’s supposed to be like, freakishly warm. And I…I’m thinking about it. About him. Is that wrong?”
Amara shook her head. “Not at all. Just…be careful, OK?”
“What do you mean?” Ryan asked, naively.
“Ryan? You’re gay. You’ve accepted that. Other guys don’t always…some of them might just wanna play around, experiment a little with the new hot teammate. I just worry about you. The last thing I’d want to see is you get your heart broken, especially by someone you have to see every single day.” She paused. “Again.”
“So, there’s something else, too.”
Amara sighed. “I take back what I said about missing you guys and all your drama. What?”
“I kinda told Hayes. That I was gonna go out with him.”
“Ryan!”
“I didn’t say like, as a date or anything.”
“But you know that’s how he’s gonna take it. Well, just be prepared for that shit show.”
“I’m always prepared. I’m kinda the ringleader of said shit show. Not that I need to tell you that.”
“Nope. You definitely do not.”
He got up from the couch, leaned over her, and kissed the top of her head. “Hey? Get some sleep, beautiful, before he starts screaming again.”
