Page 75 of Not Falling for the Forward
Emily
When I did eventually turn my phone back on, with the help from Jess, after my forced everything bath. I was greeted to much less than I thought; just messages from Dan, Jess, a few people from work, my mum, Aimee and of course Jack, all checking in to see if I was okay.
I re-downloaded my Instagram and watched Jack’s video no less than five hundred times, after declining every follow request and requested DM. He noticed metwo years agoand he has wanted to know me ever since. Why did he never tell me?
I wanted to ask him, but this is an in-person conversation, and I had to get back to my job. Two twelve hour shifts and avoiding every question about my personal life later, it is finally Saturday, and I have a crowd to ensure is safe.
My plan is to meet him after today’s game.
Gemma follows me into the first aid room, “How are you getting on?” she asks as she perches on the bench to my left.
“Actually, fine,” I say honestly.
“I saw his video.” This makes me turn my full attention to the older lady, wise eyes study me. “Seems like he’s been smitten for a while.”
“It does.” I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“He really put himself out there for you.”
“He did.” I nod again, thinking of all the times Jack has said he tries to avoid attention from the media as much as possible. By putting himself out there like that on social media, saying all those things about me, he took the heat away from me. He had gone on further in the interview to tell everyone everything and anything they might want to know about me, about us, about him. What side of the bed we sleep on, who cooks most, who is messiest. All the bullshit questions people seem to want to know about celebrities and their other halves. Then he had said, with no uncertain terms, that anyone writing horrible things about me, or to me, is no fan of his. His fans would respect who he chose to be with and the privacy they needed or wanted.
Almost overnight the heat had gone from me. Not that I knew, of course, because I was busy under my duvet fort.
As for his dramatic exit in my time of need, well, we will talk about it. I’m still very pissed at that, but I have to admit his video has softened me enough to be open to him apologising
I also have my own apologising to do. I should never have doubted him. How could I not trust him, especially now? I mean, he basically peed on me and marked his territory with that video. But he has also made the world aware that he is taken. He is mine.
I have thought about him a lot over the past week and it’s time I grew up. No, he’s not like Chris. But he’s also not like any of my mother’s ex’s either. I can’t pretend that her relationships haven’t fucked me up, becauseclearly, they have. I was willing to throw away this incredible man because I was too scared of getting hurt. And guess what? In doing so, I hurt myself anyway. It’s time I stopped using Dan as my unpaid, underqualified therapist and got a real one. I have shit to sort through if I want to make any kind of future work with Jack. If he’ll still have me.
“I don’t need to remind you how inappropriate it is for you to be dating one of the players do I?” Gemma asks, lifting a brow.
“I wasn’t supposed to fall for him.” I grin.
“You’ve fallen for him? The Forward?”
“Yeah. I’ve fallen for Jack.”
***
Jack
I am a bag of nerves before today’s game. Normally that isn’t like me, but it’s Saturday and that means Emily might be here. She should be here. I hope I haven’t scared her off the duties that she enjoys so much. Even if she wants nothing to do with me anymore, after I left her that day, I don’t want her to feel like she can’t do something she enjoys doing just because I am here.
That must explain the reason I didn’t see her during our warm-up on the field. I don’t think my gaze left the seats where she usually sits. They remained empty the whole time. I’m not wishing any medical emergencies on anyone, but I hope there’s a valid reason for her not being here.
She still hasn’t been in contact. Not one message or call. Not a single reply to me. I know she is back in the real world, because I hounded Jess enough for her to confirm Emily was at least back at work. Even if she is done with me, I’m glad she’s back to her normal life.
I wish she had called me though; I could have told her about Tom Short, the defender that has had it out for me for years after a made-up incident with his mum. I could have done with talking to someoneabout him. I know he’ll have asked to be on me today, like he does every match we play against his team.
Forty minutes in and we are well and truly getting our arses handed to us. We are two-nil down, with five minutes of the first half left. Short has been throwing fouls left, right and centre whilst the Ref isn’t looking. His boots have been under my legs, trying to trip me, more times than the grass has. I’m usually a very calm person, it takes me a lot for me to lose my shit, but he’s pushing it.
I watch the ball make its way towards my end of the pitch and sprint to a good position, my thighs burning in protest. I know William will have it in the centre and pass to me. I might have a fucked-up hip, but I’m still the team’s best goal scorer. William’s powerful legs push him to the ball at the same time as the other team’s mid-fielder gets to it. This somehow changes the balls trajectory, it’s still coming my way, but it’s up high.
I sprint towards where the ball looks likely to land and brace my legs, ready to get it under control as it descends. I spot Short, right on my heels as I push my way there. The ball is coming from my left and the only way I will reach it first is to try and shoot with my left leg, something I have stayed away from since sending Emily to the hospital.
I reach out with my left leg at the same time Short comes flying at me, boot up, studs out.
His boot collides with my thigh.
