My Darling Bride(72)

After he’s gone, I walk the apartment again, peeking in all the closets, except in Graham’s room. I walk out on the balcony and take in the park.

A deep loneliness sets in.

My heart feels hollow and empty.

I try to ignore it but can’t.

I wish Graham were here.

I wonder where he is. Most of all, I wonder if he’ll be safe at camp. I can’t stop thinking about CTE and the absolute unknown of the disease.

His absence leaves a strange void at the center of my being. I look at my phone, hoping for a call or message from him.

An undeniable feeling of dread overcomes me as I drop into a chair, my head in my hands. The truth is that I long for him with every ounce of my being, and I can’t deny it any longer, not the sparkle in his eyes when he smiles, his dimples, the way his nose flares slightly when he’s near me yet doesn’t make a move. I relish in his banter, the way he opens up to me when I least expect it.

My stomach drops as the realization hits me. I’m falling for him. His warmth, his vulnerability, the way he wants to keep me safe at all costs, his unconditional love for his brother, the look of despair that lingers on his face whenever he speaks of losing football.

How do I navigate this and survive with my heart intact?

I won’t. I can’t.

Jesus. I need to stab this feeling right in the center of my chest and rip it out.

Needing a distraction, I call Jane, then the rest of my friends.

A few hours later, I’ve got enough Chinese delivery for a feast. Jane, Andrew, and Londyn arrive first, then Babs, Ciara, and Mason. Magic finds his litter box, does his business, then goes to sleep in my lap.

I’ve tossed a blanket over the giant penis for Londyn’s sake.





Chapter 22


GRAHAM


Two and a half weeks later, I wake from a groggy dream, trying to figure out where I am. I rub my eyes. Right. Back in Manhattan. I arrived last night on a late flight during the middle of a huge thunderstorm. By the time I got to the apartment, it was midnight, and Emmy was already asleep with her door closed.

Once I’m dressed in gym clothes and out of my bedroom, the apartment is silent. Emmy’s already left for work. As I drink a protein shake, I stalk around the apartment, seeing hints that my wife lives here: a cup of half-drunk tea left on a side table, several fortune cookies left over from takeout, and a blanket over the giant penis.

We’ve communicated briefly through texts, but I’ve done my best to keep my distance.

Is it wrong that I itch to see her?

Like it always does, a warning bell dings in my head, telling me that I don’t need her in my life. I should be focusing on my game, on my dreams.

I shove it aside and call Jasper.

He answers with a groggy “Somebody better be dead, Graham. It’s seven in the morning, and it’s not a practice day.”

“Does Precious have a hangover? Suck it up. I need a run through the park. Wanna join?”

There’s a long silence, and I picture him in his mammoth bed he special ordered when he renovated his apartment. It looks like something a vampire would sleep in, all dark mahogany and fancy scrolls and tall elaborate posts at the ends. His bedding—as he so lovingly showed us—is black silk damask. The top of the bed has a canopy that matches.

“If we wait until later, it’ll just be crowded and hot.”

He lets out a string of curses. “You got married and I wasn’t even invited, and now you’re waking me up? I’m pissed at you. Tuck shared with me. He confided. It built a bridge between us. We can’t truly connect on the field if you don’t let me into your personal life. Whatever. I haven’t even met this girl. You get me?”

He complained about this in Atlanta during camp. I sat through an offensive strategies class, with him ignoring me. When I said hello at practice, he’d just grunt. His hotel room was next to mine, and usually we’d go to dinner together, but he spent most of his time in the gym where we had our training.

“Ah, stop giving me the cold shoulder, Precious. Would it help if I said, ‘Please go running with me? With a cherry on top?’”

“Fucker. You’d need a million cherries.”

“And maybe we could get some Mexican later? Healthy? I’m thinking fajitas and no tortillas. No chips or cheese dip either.”

“But I love the chips. They crunch so good,” he says on a groan.

“Chips it is. Was that a yes?”

“No.”

“What if I said we’ll go meet Emmy afterwards. She can’t wait to meet you. You know, I gave her your phone number in case she needed a friend to help out with Kian.”

“Of course I’d help her. I’m awesome. Fine! Fifteen minutes. I’ll meet you in the lobby.” He hangs up on me.

After our five-mile run and lunch, we head to the bookstore. My heart beats harder with each step that gets us closer. I want to see her face. Those plump, delicious lips.

“Tell me about Emmy. Was it love at first sight, like you told the team, or was it more lust?”

I frown, my train of thought interrupted and fear crowding in when I see a fire truck parked on the curb and firemen milling around outside the bookstore.

I’m about to burst inside and see what’s going on when Jasper grabs my arm in front of the bookstore. “Dude. Check out the window. Your wife is into some kinky shit.”