Page 104 of Goal Line
Another sigh. “I’ve never not been successful,” I admit. “But I’ve almost always avoided situations where I didn’t think I’d be the best.”
Not telling Eva how I felt and remaining in the friend zone for way too long, going to Boston College instead of Harvard like my brothers, majoring in sports medicine instead of business...Every path was chosen based on the likelihood of success.
“We’re unfortunately out of time,” Chloe says, and my head snaps up to look at the screen.
“That’s it? You’re just going to leave me here after unpacking all that?”
“Is it hard for you to sit with your thoughts like this?” she asks.
I look away again.
“You did a lot of hard work today, Luke. I’m not expecting this realization that you have a deep-seated fear of rejection to be easy for you to work through, and I hope you don’t expect that either. But you do need to think about it—about why failure is so scary to you, and about how you can get around that so you don’t limit your options.”
“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to talk to you about?”
“Yes, and we will talk about it more. But a lot of this work is internal. You have to dig down and figure out whether this fear of rejection is a reasonable fear to hold on to. And if it is, how you might manage it when it springs up. That’s all stuff we can talk about next week, but first you need to spend some time on your own with this newfound knowledge.”
I look back at the screen as I crack my knuckles. “I hate everything you just said, even though I know you’re right.”
“That’s a very natural reaction,” she says. “Do you want to move our meeting up next week? I have some time earlier in the week.”
“I have to look at my calendar. Can you text me your availability and we’ll see if it works?”
“Sure. And Luke, for what it’s worth, this is hard work, and I’m proud of you for doing it.”
On the screen, I watch my lips press together into a flat line, before I say, “Thanks. I’ll talk to you next week.”
When the window closes on my screen, I let out a deep sigh and get up in search of Eva. I’ve never needed a hug more than I do at this moment.
Chapter Forty-One
EVA
I’m sitting on a barstool at the counter, thumbing through our article that came out today inSocietymagazine and snacking on a small bowl of almonds, when Luke ambles into the living room. His face is ashen, like he’s just gotten terrible news, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead. Pausing at the wide opening into the kitchen, he leans against the tall cabinets to his left.
“You okay?” I ask, a tad worried about whatever has him looking like this.
“Yeah.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I just got off my call with Chloe.”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He clears his throat and mumbles something unintelligible as he turns and walks to the refrigerator.
Pushing off the stool, I follow him around the island, thankful that I’m home after meeting Amy for lunch. I don’tsee my high school friends often enough, considering that I live here now, and I’m trying to be better about that.
I cross my arms, resting them on my baby bump as I lean against the countertop and study him chugging orange juice straight from the container in front of the open fridge. “I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
“I will. Eventually.”
“But not right now?”
He sets the orange juice on the counter, shuts the refrigerator, and steps toward me. “Right now, I just want you in my arms. You’re the only thing in my life that feels truly permanent.”
I lean into him as he wraps his arms around me. With my head on his chest and my arms wrapped around his lower back, I can feel his shallow, rapid breaths and fast, strong heartbeat. The longer we hold one another, the slower they become, until he feels like my normal, calm, and resilient Luke.
He’s always been my rock, but I’m starting to realize that maybe I’m his, too.
I run my hands up and down his back, hoping that the supportive gesture lets him know I’m here for him...but if his growing erection pushing into my belly is any indication, he’s looking for a totally different type of togetherness.
