Page 66 of Unrivaled Love
"Yeah, it's bleak." He agrees and I let out a humorless laugh.
"You have no idea."
Bryson curls forward a little to see my face. I’m not sure what he'll find there but if I had to guess?
He'd see pain.
"Why did you run Jo?" He asks me quietly.
I don't know if he's talking about now or seven years ago but the answer is the same.
"I felt betrayed." I can barely get the words out. I’m struggling to admit to feelings that felt enormous years, or even days, ago.
“How so?”
“Which time?”
“You’ve been betrayed multiple times?” He asks incredulously.
“The most recent one was with Peyton Pendleton.” I start to pick at the edge of my nail.
“She’s on both Salt Lake and the US Team, right?”
“Yeah, and we share an agent.”
“What happened?”
“EPIC wanted to split a sponsorship deal between us and I said I wanted all of it or nothing.” I inhale deeply to try and keep my voice even. “And, they gave it all to her.”
“That’s really shitty Jo. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
He’s quiet for a moment and I let our thoughts settle between us. And then that moment stretches into several and anxiety rises in my chest.
“Bryson?”
“What about the other time you were betrayed?” He asks and he can’t bring himself to look at me.
This is going to kill me. Or him. Or whatever might be budding between us.
But, can I really move forward with him before clearing the air about our first time together?
“Jo, tell me. Did I do something? We shared this incredible experience and then you vanished.” He inhales and pain fractures his expression. “I won’t survive if that happens again.”
I sit up and turn to face him. Bryson’s face is fractured into a million pieces. He looks distraught and I reach out to take his hand in mine.
“I overheard you talking to your roommate that night.”
“What?”
I swallow and square my shoulders. The whole scene plays out in my head like it was yesterday. The grip of pain in my chest feels as intense now as it did that night. But unlike seven years ago, today I need to move through the pain and talk to my friend. “I started to come down the stairs to get water and I heard you talking to one of your roommates. He congratulated you on nailing ‘No-Go-Jo’ and you didn’t defend me. That hurt. I hated that nickname. But then he kept talking about how it was unbelievable I’d make the US Team one day and… you agreed. You said ‘yeah, unbelievable’. I was crushed.”
Emotion clouds my vision as I stare at my knees. The wound of that night is fresh again just from saying it out loud. My spirit was crushed. It took me weeks to want to get out of bed again. I watched him lose in the college finals two weeks later which was vindicating but then he got calledup to Boston the night after to start his professional career and I felt left behind.
“Jo.”
“You were my best friend.” I say barely above a whisper, unable to look up at him. “I thought you believed in me. But to hear you tell him you thought I had a snowball’s chance in hell I’d get on that team was so hurtful. So I scooped up my clothes and snuck out.”
