Page 128 of Fighting Spirit

Her and me both. I still haven’t come close to unpicking everything, but I guess it’s time to try. I straighten up, getting ready to spill my guts. “I think, I was just feeling really raw after everything that happened with Marshall, and coming home to find you guys, it just really hit me I’d basically imagined this whole friendship.”

“You didn’t imagine it.”

“I kind of did.” I shrug, chagrined. “I thought that you and everyone else were my best friends. I thought we were it, you know?”

She picks at the edges of her fingernails. It’s been a nervous habit as long as I’ve known her. “I guess for me, it was sort of like we got thrown together. Like we became friends by default.”

“Yeah.” I nod, not sure what else to say.

“And I love being your roommate, I love hanging out with you. But…”

“But I’m not your person,” I finish, resigned.

She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t have to. A tear escapes me and I curse myself for my inability to stop crying tonight. What she’s saying is true, something needs to change, otherwise we’re just going to end up resenting each other, but I still feel like I’m losing my best friend. The idea of the life I thought I had is slipping out of my grasp, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it, I have to let it go.

“I just can’t believe that I’ve done it again,” I whisper, my voice thick.

“Done what?”

“I keep doing this. I keep getting the wrong end of the stick and creating these scenarios in my head. I can’t help myself and then I try to force people to fit into the box I’ve made for them.”

“That’s not true. You’ve never forced me into anything, you wanted more than what we had, and there’s nothing wrong with that. We just need to get on the same page.”

“I did it with Rowan.” The words are barely audible, and I have to stifle a sob that wants to break free as I remember the look on his face when his friend rounded the corner.

“What are you talking about?”

“I thought that we were serious. I thought that he really liked me, but he didn’t even tell his friends about me.”

“Oh shit.” I don’t need her to tell me what she’s thinking. It’s all over her face. She’s remembering the fallout of my fling with Marshall, how he talked me into keeping it a secret, like I was something shameful. I’ve let it happen again, and I can’t believe I was this stupid. That I was so desperate for affection that I walked right back into the same situation, apparently never learning my lesson. “I’m so sorry, Ruth.”

“What is wrong with me that this keeps happening?” I succumb to the flood of emotions, turning into a sobbing mess.Georgie moves to sit behind me, wrapping both arms around me in a tight hug.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” she coos.

“Why do I always pick people who are never gonna feel the same way about me?”

I can’t quell the voice in my head that screams this is my own fault. There must be something in me, some fundamental flaw, that makes me so inherently unlovable. Why else would every single person I have in my life turn around and tell me that they don’t want me anymore?

“Ruth-” she starts.

I stand, brushing off her touch. “I’m fine. I just need some time.” I appreciate how sweet she’s being, but it’s hard to take comfort from her after everything that’s happened. I need time for my feelings to catch up to my brain, and I can only do that alone.

I head toward my bedroom, it feels weird to be back here after so much time spent at Rowan’s. It doesn’t quite feel like home anymore. Instead, my safe place turned into that masculine bedroom with its dark sheets and constant smells wafting in from whatever Trevor was cooking. Now that that’s lost to me, I don’t know where to go from here.

I check my phone and see a dozen missed calls from Rowan, and a few from Trevor, but I can’t bring myself to do anything other than switch off the device.

I’m just so tired of my big feelings, of living in my chaotic brain, of all these unmet expectations.

I can feel the walls going up like a physical sensation. Needing other people, wanting things from them, it’s only ever brought me pain. It’s time to finally take care of myself, and at least now I know the only person who’s going to keep me safe is me.

Chapter Fifty-Three

ROWAN

Sweat stings my eyes as it runs in rivulets down my face. Despite the frigid temperatures, I can feel the blood in my cheeks turning my face a bright red, my breath forming clouds of steam as I drag the tackle sled back to my starting position.

I don’t need to be running drills. If I don’t have my form nailed at this point, less than seventy-two hours before the final regular season game of my playing career, then it’s never going to happen. I just need the repetitive action to try and clear my head. It has the added benefit of meaning that I don’t have to talk to anyone.

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