Page 26 of Forever Offsides

Skylar: Yikes. That’s scary.

Me: I agree with all of that. I’m officially a fourth-year resident, and the new interns and medical students terrify me. Was I that green a doctor when I started?

Forest: Yet another reason why I avoid hospitals. But I’ll come tomorrow to training camp too.

Hayes: I’m in. I have a fashion week meeting in the morning, but I’ll come after that.

Roman: I’m not since I’m in Germany, missing my wife, but I’m back this weekend, so we’ll celebrate your new role with the team.

Braelyn: I miss you too, Chef. We can have everyone over and make pizza or something. Well, Roman will make pizza, and I’ll open wine since we each have our strengths in this marriage.

Me: Sounds like a plan.

The drive isn’t long, and I know it by heart, having done it more times than I can count. I practically grew up at Rebels Stadium. Even though football isn’t my passion sport, I still get a thrill whenever I park in the lot and flash my I’m so cool, I have a family pass badge. This time, I’m flashing my work badge, to which Marcus, the door manager, gives me a look.

“Does this mean you’re with us all season?”

“It does.”

He’s energized. I’m lukewarm at best. “That’s fantastic. You know this is our year.”

I smile. He says that every year, and sometimes he’s been right, while others he hasn’t been.

“I believe you.”

“No, really. Having your dad move to GM and bringing in the new coach is going to shake things up. That last GM was a dud. He should have retired years ago.”

I snicker. “My dad would agree with you.”

He gives me a hug. “Glad to have you here, honey.”

“Good to see you, Marcus. Tell Mary I say hi.”

“Will do.”

I walk through the bowels of the building when my phone rings in my bag. I pull it out, expecting it to be my friends or even my dad, but it’s not.

I practically trip over my own feet as I come to a screeching halt when I see the name on my screen.

Russel.

Blood rushes up my face and through my ears as his name flashes across my screen with his picture right above it. I never removed him from my phone. Honestly, I didn’t think about it. He sent that breakup text, and that was it. I never replied. I never called him. What was there to say?

I wasn’t going to beg him to come back, and I sure as hell was going to ask to go with him.

It was the first and only time I stayed quiet, probably because I was at a literal loss for words. I knew he’d never call me again, and I didn’t need to delete him to know I wasn’t ever going to reach out. Not even for a drunk text where I told him that I hoped he shattered his wrist and had a shitty surgeon do the repair that left him with sixty screws and a lifetime of pain and immobility. Considering he hasn’t called me in four years, it has to be a butt dial.

I don’t pick up. I’m not even tempted to.

In addition to being a royally shitty ex and seriously breaking my heart, his selfishness taught me important lessons like it’s essential to focus on yourself and your goals, but the people in your life who mean something to you are worth prioritizing as well. He also made me very intentional with the types of men I give my actual time to, not just a random date or night. Thus far, Rhett’s the first guy I’ve done that with.

Other than when it comes to my family, Russel set me on the path of football disinterest. I don’t want to hear his name. I don’t give a shit about his stats or how he’s doing.

The truth is, at this point, I hardly think about him, and I stopped missing what we had years ago.

I let the call die, assuming that’s it, except it’s not. Right after the call drops, a text comes in.

Russel: Hey. I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from, but I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a call back. It’s important. In case you deleted my number, this is Russel.