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I can’t make this same mistake a second time.
10
ELISSA
Ilie awake staring at the ceiling, listening to the whir of the heating vent above me, trying to clear my thoughts, but they’re a swirling mess of worry.
Nick’s coach has no concern for Nick’s safety and is only in this for the money. He knows what he has in Nick and how much money he stands to lose should Nick choose not to return to the team. But more than that, I’m not sure we have any other option at this point. Nick needs to go back, and not just because of his coach and the bully tactics he used to convince me of this. It’s about the money for all of us.
Nick and I can’t afford to buy him out of his contract. There will never come a time in my life when I have that kind of money. I don’t even know if I could make that kind of money during a lifetime of working. It could be at least a million, maybe more that he, or should I say we, since we’re in this together now, will need to pay back.
I’m sure when Nick signed his contract with the US team and then his contract to train for the Olympics, he didn’t expect to get injured. No one goes into a contract expecting the worst, and unfortunately the worst has happened here.
I close my eyes, resting my hand on my stomach, trying to focus on the positives here. We’re having a baby, a baby we’re both excited about and that our families are excited about too. And my best friend is pregnant too, something people dream about happening. Our kids are going to grow up together just like Nick, Max, and I did.
But even with this happy thought, I can’t focus on anything but Nick’s future. I’ve been trying to convince myself it’s okay for him to go back to the team. It could set us up for the rest of our lives if he makes the Olympic team, all the sponsorships, the money that comes in from winning a medal. It’s what we need, but risking Nick’s life feels so damn wrong.
His doctor said he’s not ready. Actually, his doctor said he’d never be ready, that his knee isn’t capable of taking the landings that he needs for jumping. His physical therapist is also in this same camp, saying it’s just not a good idea. Why would the team doctor and the coach be pushing for it?
I’ve answered this question a million times in my head. I know why. It’s money. As much as they like to say they’re looking out for Nick, they aren’t. They’re in this for themselves and the money. I want to tell Nick this, but it’s hard and I don’t want to be the one to make the decision for him.
“Go to sleep, Elissa,” I whisper to myself, knowing I have to be up in a few hours for work. I look at my watch, the time glowing in the darkness of the room.
If I fall asleep right now, I will get four hours of sleep before I have to wake up. Like I’m really going to fall asleep in the next few seconds. I’ve literally been lying here for the past five hours stressing about Nick’s situation. The worst part is, me stressing isn’t going to change anything.
I’mexhausted when my alarm goes off, and it feels like I just fell asleep, and I probably did. Being pregnant and dealing with all of this is really sucking the life out of me.
I roll over and find Nick’s side of the bed empty, knowing he’s up already and probably making us coffee. It’s funny because he used to sleep in all the time, even still complaining when I wake him up to come to work with me.
“Hey,” I grumble, walking into the kitchen to find him sitting at the table, a mug of coffee in front of him.
“Hey, babe. How’d you sleep?” he asks, and it’s almost like he knows I was up half the night thinking about everything.
“Okay,” I reply, not wanting to burden him with it all. He has enough on his plate, and he doesn’t need to know that I’m not sleeping because of it. “Full caffeine?” I ask, grabbing the pot of coffee and pouring myself a cup.
“No, sorry, babe. Half and half like we talked about. Remember when I Googled it all and it said to take it easy on the caffeine? So I mixed the decaf with the regular stuff.” He shrugs, giving me a sympathetic grin. “I did get you a Boston Cream donut though if that helps ease the sting of fake coffee.”
“It does,” I reply, taking the donut out of the white bag that sits on the counter. “You were up early, huh?” I now ask, realizing that in order to get to the bakery and back before I got up, he had to have woken up around five.
“Yeah,” he answers, his voice quiet.
“What’s going on?” I now ask, the feeling of worry washing over me. He’s stressed out about what to do too. He said yesterday that it’s not a decision he’s going to have trouble making. He’s staying with me and the baby. But it’s not that simple anymore.
“The same shit as yesterday,” he says. “Couldn’t sleep. I probably kept you up with all my tossing and turning. Yesterday was a fucking mess, and I can’t believe my coach came to talk to you. What a dick.”
“He thinks I’m holding you back, Nick, and maybe I am,” I say, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I see the anger build on Nick’s face.
“No, never,” he barks out, his teeth clenched. “If anything, you’ve supported every decision I’ve made when it comes to my skiing career. Now it’s time that I support you. It’s not just the two of us anymore, Lis, and I will not let our baby grow up with me gone.”
“I hear you, and I believe you,” I say, but there’s that lingering reality, the one that requires us to shell out a ridiculous amount of money. “But Nick?—”
“I know, the money, but I have ideas. I could take out a loan. I could borrow some from my parents. I didn’t spend everything I got from my signing bonus and my endorsements and sponsorships. I can return some of it.”
He stops, looking at me, the tears welling up in my eyes at the idea of starting our life together with a massive amount of debt. It’s not like Nick’s parents are rich, they aren’t the Holdens or anything, but they’ve always lived comfortably, able to take vacations and buy new cars and pay for unexpected repairs. Not my mom and me. We’ve struggled. This is the first time in my life when I’ve finally felt comfortable and now Nick and I are looking at the kind of debt you never get out from under.
“Come here,” he says, and I walk over to him, sitting down in his lap, resting my head on his shoulder.
“What happens if you don’t go back, and you can’t pay back what is owed?” I ask, it’s the question that has been floating around in my head since the coach came to see me.
