Living With Regret (8 page)

“What the hell is your problem, kid? Are you deliberately trying to get yourself killed out there? Fuck.”

A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think of Jordan, but today is worse ...much worse. No matter what I do, I can’t get her out of my head and I know why. Today is her eighteenth birthday and I don’t even know where she lives, let alone have a way to wish her a happy birthday. Not that it matters since I’m sure she probably doesn’t want to hear from me.

Cutting her off and out of my life is what’s best for both of us, or at least, that’s what I was told. If that’s the case, then why do I feel horrible all the time? I’m anxious and I can’t concentrate for shit. So far, my coaches seem extremely let down that the golden boy isn’t cutting it.

“Adams, I’m only going to tell you this once. Figure your shit out and bring you’re A-game to the next practice or scholarship or not, your ass will be cut! Now get out of my fucking office.”

Karma is officially a bitch. I dumped the girl I love for football and football is about to dump me. Now I have to decide if I care enough to do anything about it.

I come awake with my heart pounding from the dream I had, only to find that I’m still in this God forsaken hospital. As I look around the room, I start to panic when I don’t see her. She can’t be gone. She just can’t.

My mom jumps to her feet. “Honey, what’s the matter?”

Shit, it’s not that I don’t want my mother here. It’s that I need
her
here. “Ma, where is she?” I frantically ask, hoping the last time I saw her wasn’t just a dream.

Ma starts to relax. “She’ll be back, sweetheart. Probably any time now. She was tired so I told her to go and rest her eyes awhile.”

My panic turns to concern. I never thought about how any of this is affecting her. I’ve only thought about myself and getting out of this hellhole.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure she was tired. Thank you, Ma. Why don’t you go and get some rest, too? I know you must be beat.”

Ma gives me a half-smile and squeezes my hand. “I will soon. I promise. You have an appointment today with Dr. Stein. I met him already. He seems like a wonderful man.”

“Ma, why do I have to see him before I can go home?” Something is bothering my mom. I don’t know what it is but she looks stressed all the time and she’s careful when she talks to me. Almost like she’s afraid at any moment I’ll go insane.

“You know that your head is still a little unclear about what happened and Dr. Wallace thinks Dr. Stein will help you put the pieces together, that’s all,” she says as she looks away from me.

“But I don’t need the pieces. I don’t care what happened that day.” I exhale loudly. “I understand that I may never play football again, but none of that matters, not anymore. Not as long as I have you, Dad, and Jordan in my life.”

Ma looks like she’s in agony, which I would have expected from my father, but I’m telling the truth. I’ll survive fine without football. I have a shit ton of money in the bank and a college degree. I’m more than ready to start a family with my beautiful wife. If I have to talk to this man to get out of here, then so be it. But talking to him isn’t going to change anything.

I hear a throat clear by the door. “Hey.” I look and see Jordan once again acting hesitant. She watches me closely for a few seconds until she finally cracks a smile, and just like that, my world feels right again.

“Hey yourself, beautiful. Did you get a chance to rest?” Jordan takes a few steps closer to my bed.

“Yes, I did. You look really rested yourself.” I would give anything to jump out of this bed and wrap my arms around her, to take even an ounce of the pain away that I see in her eyes.

As much as I want to leave, I start to think talking to this Stein guy may not be a bad idea. I’ve fucked something up with Jordan and he might be able to help me figure out what I did and what I need to do to fix it.

“Ma, when is my appointment with Stein?” I ask, taking my eyes off my wife and returning them to my poor, rundown mother.

“Two o’clock. A nurse will come and get you and take you to his office.” Good, it’s already close to two and I’m ready to figure this shit out.

“Babe, do you want to come with me?”

Jordan’s eyes are huge and I don’t know if it’s from me calling her babe or from my request to have her come with me.

“Do you want me to go with you?” she softly asks.

“Of course I do. You’re my wife. I don’t have anything to hide and once I figure out whatever I’m missing, I’ll fix it and we’ll be fine again.” Both of the women in my life are staring at me with looks of anguish on their faces. I want to be pissed at them for keeping whatever secret they share but I have a nagging feeling in my gut that keeps telling me to let it go, that I don’t really want to know ...that it’s better I don’t.

“Well, I’m going to head out for a while, get some rest. I should be back around dinner time.”

“We’ll be fine, Ma. Take however long you need.”

I know my mother has to be overwhelmed by being here practically twenty-four-seven and now that I have Jordan, it’s not necessary for her to camp out in my room.

“Love you. Be back soon.” As she passes Jordan, she gives her a light squeeze on her hand before walking out and leaving the two of us alone.

“Do you want to lay down with me?” I ask as I pat the spot next to me on the bed.

“What?” Her voice cracks and her eyes look panicked. I want her back. I want us back, and I hope she knows I won’t stop until I fix us.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to, but will you please go with me to my appointment with Dr. Stein?” I ask, ignoring the way she reacted.

“Yes, if you want me to and he says it’s okay, then I’ll go.”

“Jordan, I’m not stupid. I know I’m missing something, but whatever it is, it’s not important. You and me, together we can weather any storm that comes our way, but only if we stick together.” Her lips part but she doesn’t say anything. She looks as lost as I feel.

“I know it’s a shitty thing to do ...to ask forgiveness when I’m not sure what I’m asking you to forgive me for, but I love you. I always have. I always will. But I need to be honest with you about something . . .” My heart feels like it’s about to pound out of my chest.

“I’m scared.” My voice shakes. “I’m scared when I figure out what I’m asking you to forgive that I won’t be able to forgive myself and I can only hope whatever I’ve burdened you with is something I can atone for.” I’m looking down at my lap in fear of what I might see on her face.

Jordan reaches out and places her hand in mine. “We’ll work through this. Together.” Her voice is as soft and soothing as her touch. I feel like I’m finally able to breathe for the first time since I woke up in this place because she said exactly what I needed to hear.

Together
...that word gives me a strange peace. A peace that, for whatever reason, I think has been missing from my life for a long time.

A nurse—who only last week was dying for my attention—pushes me in a fucking wheelchair to Dr. Stein’s office. Thankfully with Jordan here, the nurses’ advances aren’t nearly as obvious. Still, Jordan trails slowly next to us, acting unsure of her place, which bothers me.

“Mr. Adams is here for Dr. Stein,” the nurse says over my head to a receptionist. Before she says anything, the doctor’s door opens and a man who looks to be in his early fifties steps out.

“You must be Chase. I’m Dr. Stein, but if you feel more comfortable, you can call me Matt.” He reaches out and shakes my hand.

“Nice to meet you, Doctor. This is my wife, Jordan.” I grab Jordan’s hand, looking for any sort of comfort.

“Nice to meet you, Jordan.” The two of them shake hands then everyone’s eyes focus on me.

“Chase, why don’t you allow me to talk to you for a few minutes then we’ll add Jordan into the conversation,” Dr. Stein says, motioning for Jordan to take a seat in his waiting room. I’m not sure why, but anytime I know I’ll be separated from Jordan panic takes over my whole body.

Jordan squeezes my hand. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll wait right here and when it’s time I’ll come in with you.”

I exhale slowly and shake my head. I need to get this done so I can get out of this hell. I give Jordan a tight smile as she takes a seat. “Thanks,” I mumble as I hop out of that damn chair and follow the doctor inside his office. Once the door closes, the doctor starts in. “Make yourself comfortable.” As I look around his office, I see a couch, a recliner, and a small bed.

I’m not sure what his patients usually choose but I head straight to the couch. Dr. Stein takes a seat in a chair across from me and gives me a warm smile that does nothing to calm my nerves.

“What would you like to start off with? Any questions or concerns?” My stomach turns. I don’t want to talk. I just want to go home. Instead of answering, I shake my head no.

“Let’s start with something simple, Chase. Why are you here?”

I laugh but it lacks any humor. “I’m in this hospital because I hit my fucking head. I’m in your office because I was told I couldn’t go home unless I talked to you, and honest to God, Doctor, I will do just about anything to get out of this place. I want to walk out that door, grab my wife and”—I expel a frustrated sigh—“just fucking go home.”

The doctor doesn’t react to my outburst. Instead, he just gives me a half-smile and carries on like I didn’t just beg him to release me from this hell.

“Chase, can you tell me anything about the day you played in the game against Pittsburgh?”

“No,” I quickly reply, giving him an answer I’m sure he already knew.

“How about the day before?”

“No,” I say again, slightly firmer.

“Why don’t you tell me the last thing you remember.” A small grin crosses his face like he thinks he finally got one up on me.

“I remember a lot of things. Workouts, practices, but nothing seems to be in order. I can’t remember if one event came before another.”

“That’s fairly standard given your case. How about your personal life? Your family and friends? What is the last event you remember doing with them?”

“Do you think it’s possible to take the rest of the year off and return as a starter next year?” I ask my dad after a lousy practice. I couldn’t concentrate worth a damn and the whole time I kept wondering if maybe Dr. Wallace was right.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Of course you won’t be a starter. For crying out loud, Chase, you’re only twenty-eight! If you start acting like you’re fucking injured, then you can kiss the chance of getting another contract goodbye. Grow the fuck up and act like a man!”

“Yes, I remember talking to my dad about if I should be playing or not,” I say, looking away from the doctor. That memory is only one of many I can recall. With my dad, everything is always about football.

“Any other conversations or events that come to mind?” he asks after I remain quiet.

I look around the locker room at my teammates. Most of them seem happy to see me, but not all of them.

“I heard Wallace wasn’t going to allow you back on the field for the rest of the season, but I guess that was just fucking gossip.”

“I remember talking to Jake. I think...I think he came over to my house not too long ago.”

“Dude, you’re almost out of beer. We better get more because I can promise you this isn’t going to be enough.”

“Good, very good. Do you remember anything else?” I try to focus but nothing else comes to mind.

“No. Can Jordan come in now?” God, I hate being separated from her.

“Yes, in a minute. First, tell me a little bit about Jordan.”

Talking to a stranger about my wife feels awkward. What does he really expect me to say, anyway? After a few seconds, I sigh and give him what he’s looking for.

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” That’s the only way I can or ever will describe Jordan.

“Wow, that’s a pretty amazing woman. When did you two get married?”

God, he’s asking me questions that he already knows the answers to and the part that’s pissing me off is he also knows I have no fucking clue.