Colin’s Shattered Heart

COLIN

Brooke won’t return my phone calls, and she won’t let me explain things any further than when I tried at her office.

I feel hopeless, and like a total asshole. I hadn’t even remembered that incident with John until he brought it up that day in the hospital. But ever since then it’s eaten away at me like a parasite.

I was flying high on my latest victory in the locker rooms. The whole team was surrounding me, congratulating me on the win, when John Moore came bombing in on full attack mode.

I barely knew the guy, at that point. He’d only been back on the team for a few games, and he’d spent most of his time on the bench.

I’m not sure what set him off that day—in retrospect, maybe he’d just found out his contract wasn’t getting renewed.

“YOU THINK YOU’RE HOT SHIT, SCHOLTZ!” he shouted, getting up in my face.

“Yo, man! We’re on the same team! It’s not my fault you blew out your knee,” I said, pushing his body away from me.

“IF YOU TAKE MY SPOT IT WILL BE!”

“Cool it, man, all right?” But he didn’t. He shoved my chest and got up in my face again, making my blood start to boil.

“YOU MAY HAVE ALL THE SPOTLIGHT NOW, BUT YOU BETTER WATCH YOURSELF!”

“Are you fucking threatening me?” I shoved his chest in return. My other teammates were all looking on, getting closer in case the fists came out.

“I’LL COME BACK AND I’LL DESTROY YOUR ASS!” John kept threatening. I let out a big huffed laugh, straight in his face.

“You’re never coming back, Moore. You already are nothing. You’ll never play the same again! The damage is already done.”

I put on my cockiest facade. “I’ll take every. Single. Thing. You. Have,” I said, inching closer to him with every word and shoving his chest back until he hit the lockers behind him.

I knew he was raging pissed. I saw it in his black eyes, and noticed him clench his fist before it went flying through the air. I ducked, dodging his blow, and the guys around us grabbed his shoulders to keep him off me.

“YOU’RE A FUCKING ASSHOLE! I’LL FUCKING COME FOR YOU, SCHOLTZ!” Moore shouted, fighting to get out of the guy’s grip. But I just laughed in his face again.

“You can try, Moore. I’ll be too busy fucking your wife!”

I was the cockiest asshole I could be in that moment. The vision of fame and glory as the newest and best NFL running back fogged my brain.

I had seen pictures of Moore and his fiancée in the tabloids before, and there were always crude remarks floating around the locker rooms about how she ranked the hottest of the NFL players’ “toys.”

I never liked those conversations, or got involved—until I saw an opportunity to use it against Moore. Then, that garbage just funneled out of my dickhead mouth in a moment of defense and adrenaline.

And after Moore descended further into his plunging downfall, I forgot about him, about his girl, about all of it. My career took off, and that kept me busy.

Until I got hurt.

“Brooke Waters is the best of the best!” Ashton told me when I was slumped over in depression and agonizing pain, thinking my career was over but not wanting this to be the end.

I had no other thought in my mind than wanting to get back on the field as quickly as possible. And that’s when she walked into the room.

“Hello, Mr. Scholtz. I’m Brooke Waters. So, why do you want to do your physical therapy here?”

Back then, she came in ready to hate me, and I convinced her to give me a chance. Now, I’ve blown my chance. She hates me again, and I don’t think I can pull off a miracle a second time.

Julie’s explained to me, patiently and then less patiently, that Brooke refuses to see me and I need to find a new physical therapist—offering a referral to some guy in the next town over.

I did do one session with him, but he was nothing compared to Brooke and her intelligence. I’m almost done with physical therapy, anyway—if I can’t do it with Brooke, I’ll just keep working through the exercises on my own.

So instead, I go to the only place I can think of that will hopefully make me feel better and clear my mind. Home.

Except, it’s not all peachy here for me, either. My younger brother Markus finally got the balls to propose to his girlfriend Heather, and she said yes; they’re both so full of happiness and love for each other, it makes the hole in my stomach grow bigger.

Not to mention, my oldest brother Andy and his wife Holly are expecting their third child, and my niece and nephew Sophie and Jacob never seem to stop talking and asking me about Sydney.

“Hey you, what’s been on your mind?” Holly says, coming up next to me. The rest of the family is playing a game that only loosely resembles football, Andy chasing Sophie and Jacob around making growling noises.

But Holly’s too pregnant now to be running around for long. She pulls up a lawn chair and sinks into it, rubbing her belly for comfort, and looks at me expectantly.

I just shrug, not even knowing where to begin.

She cocks her head, like she’s willing to wait as long as it takes for me to talk.

I tell her everything.

Everything that happened between Brooke and I. Everything I said to John, all those years ago, and how Brooke found out. Holly’s face goes sour when I get to that part.

She knows as well as I do: it would hurt anyone, what I said to John about Brooke. I have no idea how Brooke will ever forgive me; I’m a little worried even Holly won’t want to forgive me.

“Yikes,” is all Holly musters up at the end of my rant. She drops her feet to the ground and leans over as far as she can to grab my hand and squeeze it. I want to cry again at the simple kindness of the gesture.

“I could tell you loved her when I saw you guys for Thanksgiving. She clearly felt something for you too. But I could also tell she was trying to fight her feelings, and you’ve just given her a hell of a reason to keep fighting.

“She’s been hurt, Colin…too many times…and that messes up a woman, especially when she’s trying to protect her daughter.”

“I know,” I sigh, losing hope with every new word out of Holly’s mouth. I ruined it, I fucked up my chance, and I hurt Brooke so badly.

Holly gives me a tight-lipped smile. “You have a lot of decisions to make in your life right now. And I’m sure Brooke sees that too.

“If you want to get her back, you have to figure out what you want in your life. Weigh your options and see what’s more important.”

I’ve heard this same thing too many times to count from my mom over the years, trying to get me to settle down. But Holly’s right. My mom is right. Brooke was right too, when she tried to convince me to think about my options for the future.

It’s official by now that the Panthers aren’t re-signing my contract. They’ve signed with Downy for my position, and so far the only team willing to sign me is the Chiefs.

I’m flying out to Kansas City in a few days to meet with them and discuss my contract, and my focus needs to be there. I have too many things going on with my life, and it wouldn’t be fair to drag Brooke back into it.

It wouldn’t be fair to try to get her back while I don’t have any clue where my life is going. If she even wants me back—which all the evidence suggests she doesn’t.

“Let me get you some lemonade,” I tell Holly and retreat into my parents’ house to brood alone.

***

“You will be under the contractual obligations of the National Football League, as a member of the Kansas City Chiefs, for a total of five football seasons. The Club will pay you, the player, a base salary of six million dollars per year.”

I struggle to pay attention to the dry legalese, though I know my agent has vetted this already. The general manager of the Chiefs flew me into their headquarters in Missouri for the final reading of the contract.

“Are you ready to sign?” he asks, holding out a pen for me to take and once again sign my life away.

I grab it, but hesitate over the signature line. Nothing about my life feels right anymore. I’ve sacrificed everything that first got me to love football, for football.

I fell in love with football because it was what I grew up doing with my family; my parents always made time to play with their kids.

When I was home, I saw Andy and Holly doing the same, running around the yard chasing Sophie and Jacob. Catching and throwing the ball as I did with my brothers and parents.

I’ve sacrificed having a love like my parents’, sacrificed the chance of having kids, watching them grow up, showing them how to play the sport I loved.

Maybe I still have time; I’m only thirty, but if I sign this paper, that’s five more years of my life, spending every minute of my life practicing.

If I do date it’ll probably be vapid arm-candy like Natali, because that’s all I’ll have time for, and that’s what everyone will expect of me.

All for what? To play football professionally? To be known as the best? Is it really all worth it?

“Mr. Scholtz? Is something wrong with the terms that you’d like to discuss further?” the general manager asks, seeing my hesitation.

My phone rings in my pocket. It’s been weeks since my phone has rung at all; I don’t give my number out to many people.

“Excuse me,” I say, immediately picking it up and ducking out of the room, thinking, hoping, praying it’s finally Brooke calling me back. “Brooke?”

“No…this is Josh Hoffman. I’m calling about the position for Ellisville’s football league?”

My heart sinks. It’s not Brooke. Then I’m flustered because I completely forgot about the thing I had in the works for Sydney. I was going to surprise her with this, but then all the shit hit the fan, and it hasn’t been a thought in my mind for almost a month.

Everything comes flooding back. Plans I made for the life I wanted to live. It stabs me like a knife to the gut.

“Sorry, Josh. The position’s been filled.” I end the call and walk back into the conference room.

“Sorry about that. Nothing’s wrong with the contract…” I answer, getting back to business.

We finish up and shake hands before I head out. Then I fly back to Carolina, having some loose ends to tie up.