Lessons in Heartbreak: Chapter 27

I knew it was coming. Her first text came through just as I’d sprawled out on the new loungers in my backyard. Didn’t even know what it said, and I was already smiling, heart turning over happily in my chest.

Ruby:Hi.

Me:Hi.

Three little text bubbles danced across the screen, and instead of leading her into conversation, I simply wedged a hand behind my head and waited to see how she was going to handle this.

Ruby:Are you busy right now?

Me:Terribly.

Ruby:Oh. We can talk later.

Biting down on my grin, I snapped a picture of my legs in the lounger, the pool and trees and grass beyond it. I sent it without anything else.

Ruby:Looks rough. I’m out of practice feeling sorry for you, but I might be able to conjure something up.

Me:You should. I’m all alone. No one to play Marco Polo with.

Ruby:You cheat at that game anyway, so I wouldn’t play even if I was there.

Me:Just because you’re the loudest swimmer in eastern Colorado doesn’t make me a cheater. I have excellent senses, you know.

Ruby:Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Me:If you were here, huh? Is this your way of saying you want to come for a visit? I’ve got six extra bedrooms.

Ruby:If you’re trying to elicit sympathy, I’d work on your approach.

Me:Trust me, I know better than to try. That’s why I like you, birdy. You keep me humble.

The text bubbles appeared again. Then disappeared. It happened two more times, and I exhaled slowly while I waited. Then my phone vibrated with an incoming call, and I sat up so fast I almost dropped my phone.

“Hey.”

At the breathless sound of my voice, I winced. Fuck’s sake, it sounded like I’d just sprinted a mile before picking up.

“Hi. I hope it’s okay that I’m calling.”

My eyes slammed shut, an immediate tightening in my throat at the sound of her voice. Fuck, I’d missed her. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that, but I held back. For now.

“Yeah, birdy,” I said, my voice rough and quiet. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“You too.” She sucked in a quick breath, and I could see her face so clearly in my head. Could imagine that little furrow in her brow. “I, um, I practiced what I was going to say, and now that I’m actually talking to you, I feel like I’m going to burst into tears.”

The tremble at the end of her sentence had me smiling softly. “What’s going to make you cry, sweetheart?”

The endearment slipped out, and I swiped a hand over my face while my heart hammered wildly in my chest.

“You,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Griffin, I . . . I don’t even know what to say. When I think about how much you must have spent . . .”

I bit down on my grin. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Griffin,” she admonished. “I found the name of the shell company that bought the land and traced it back to you.”

“Did you?” I murmured. “I might need to do a better job hiding my tracks.”

“You bought the land for me,” she said quietly, and I could hear the tears. “I can’t believe you’d do that.”

I’d do so much more, I almost told her. Instead, I said, “It would’ve been a fucking shame to lose that view from your office.”

On the other end of the phone, she was quiet. “That simple, huh?”

No.

Not even close.

“Nothing about my life feels simple,” I admitted tiredly. The sun had gone down enough that I could finally see bright little specks of stars in the midnight-blue sky. Wouldn’t it have been nice to have her there with me? “But that decision did, if you can believe it.”

She inhaled shakily. “Thank you. It’s . . . it’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Did it make you smile when they told you?”

“Yes. I swore in front of the library trustee when she showed me the paperwork.”

I laughed. “Worth every penny, then.”

“Why did you do it, Griffin?” she asked. “And don’t say it’s because of my office view.”

The fact that she wouldn’t let me off the hook had me smiling, a hand rubbing absently over my chest. She’d never make anything easy, and there was something about that that made me so fucking happy.

Before I answered, I swallowed. “There’s a big tree in my backyard,” I said. “It’s got the same kind of branches like the one that was in between our yards growing up.” Instead of giving me shit about the slight shift in direction, Ruby just listened quietly. “I’d looked at a couple houses before I saw this one, and I don’t know—when I saw it . . . I just felt like it was a sign.”

“Of what?”

Even during this eternal month without her in my life, Ruby was pushing me. In the way we should be pushed when there’s something in our life we’ve been too scared to do. My throat was crowded with a hundred things unsaid, and I forced the answer out past all the others.

“That maybe it’s not too late to be a little bit like the people I admire,” I admitted in a thick, emotion-roughened voice. “That I can see the things about them and try to do what they’d do without losing the good parts of myself.”

“Must be quite a tree to remind you of that.”

“You remind me to do that, Ruby.” I sat up and ran a hand through my hair. “I kept thinking about that weeping willow tree that you loved and those little kids in the creek, and I knew what you’d do if you had the money. You wouldn’t even think twice about doing it for one of your friends.”

Ruby sniffed, crying quietly on the other end of the phone.

“Don’t cry, birdy,” I urged. “It’s fucking killing me.”

“Sorry,” she said in a tear-thick voice. “I wish I could give you a hug to thank you.”

I dropped my head back and exhaled a harsh puff of air, arms aching to wrap tight around her. “I wish you could too.”

“Will you come see it when it’s all done?” she asked tentatively. “We’ve already commissioned a few local artists for sculptures, and a landscaper is working up final plans for the butterfly garden.”

I smiled. “Couldn’t keep me away.”

“Okay.” She sighed. “Great.”

“You’ve been good?”

Ruby hummed quietly. “Busy. We were able to take all the money we raised to buy the land and put it into improvements around the library. We’re renovating the kids’ section and adding some new private study rooms.”

“That’s great.”

“What about you? You start training camp soon, right?”

My eyebrows popped up. “Look at you, with the correct verbiage. Someone learning a little bit about football since I left?”

“Maybe,” she answered primly. “SportsCenter is very informative. They love to talk about you.”

I snorted. “They sure do.”

“They talk a lot about Barrett too.” She paused. “About your rivalry.”

“That’s also true.”

Ruby blew out a harsh breath, and I braced myself for what was coming next. It was only a matter of time before she asked.

“What happened between you two?” she asked. “If I’m allowed to ask.”

I smiled. “I’m impressed you made it this long without forcing me to tell you.”

Ruby scoffed. “Like I could force you to do anything.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised, sweetheart.” I winced at the thick beat of silence that followed. Every time one of her nicknames slipped past my lips, it felt like I was screaming at her: I have Big Feelings for you and I don’t know what to do about it. “It’s not a pretty story. You sure you want to hear it?”

“Yes.”

She sounded so eager that I laughed. “All right,” I murmured, settling back into my chair. “I’ll jump past all the regular brotherly competition as we grew up. You saw a lot of that.”

“But you still loved each other,” she said, so completely sure that I had to smile.

“We did.” It hurt to admit that out loud. “I don’t blame my dad; he leaned into that competition to motivate us, and fucking hell, it worked. He beats himself up for it now, but it’s not his fault. We’ve both told him that. In high school, we were both starters, both getting heavily recruited by Division I schools, and the fun in our competition just . . . slowly chipped away. He was still getting straight A’s. I was skipping classes with my friends, phoning in my grades, and God, it pissed him off that I was still getting the same interest he was. It pissed me off that he thought I should be doing exactly what he did, that he thought he was the one who had it figured out, so I kinda . . . rebelled, I guess. You think I’m a screwup? You think I can’t have fun and still be a better player than you? Fucking watch.”

My throat was a little dry, so I took a sip of my drink, staring up at the stars. “In college, though, things turned again. We ended up at Oregon; the athletic department really made a big push to have both King brothers because they thought we could transform their program on both sides of the ball.”

This was where the story got harder to say out loud, and in my pause, Ruby asked, “And did you?”

“Yeah,” I said gruffly. “Won our conference title two years in a row. Made it to the championship both times too. Lost it our junior year. Won it our senior year.” I let out a dry laugh. “Almost wasn’t at the last game, though.”

“Why not?”

“The longer we played together, the worse our rivalry got. He was . . . fuck, he was revered by coaching staff. Professors. Everyone. Spent an ungodly amount of time watching film, preparing for the games, was on the dean’s list every fucking semester. I was going to parties on the weekends, and I was a legend on campus. The kind everyone thinks of when it comes to an athlete. Revered for a completely different reason, by total strangers who constantly reminded me how fun I was. How impressive, because I could do all that and still dominate on the field. I hate how much I lived for all that approval.” I swallowed hard. “But I took it too far. Did stupid shit, over and over and over, to prove exactly how different we were.”

“What happened?” she asked quietly.

“I almost got kicked out after my junior year.” I clenched my jaw, imagined her face if she were sitting next to me. “They were going to take away my scholarship, boot me from the team. I got arrested for indecent exposure for climbing up the outside of this famous building on campus—naked as the day I was born.”

Ruby exhaled a soft, shocked laugh. “Of course you did,” she murmured, and if it weren’t for the blatant affection in her voice, I might not have kept talking. “But they didn’t kick you out?”

“Because of Barrett.”

“Ah.”

I smiled a grim smile. “He went to the disciplinary board and convinced them to let me stay. Vouched for me, as his brother. Said the team needed me if we wanted to win, and he’d personally make sure I didn’t screw up any more if they gave me one more chance.”

She hummed in understanding. “And they listened to him?”

“Yeah. All he said when he came to my apartment to tell me he’d done that was, ‘Why do you think I have to work so hard? So I’m the one they’ll take seriously when shit like this happens. And as long as you’re around, it will keep happening.’”

“Oh, Griffin,” she sighed. “He never even gave you a chance to change, did he?”

“Just wait,” I added lightly. “Story time isn’t over yet, birdy. It gets better.” I wanted to knock back a strong drink, but I took another sip of my water instead. “We both stayed in Oregon that summer instead of going home, but we kept out of each other’s way as much as possible. While I was out one night, I met this girl. Rachel. She was beautiful. Smart. Driven. We didn’t have anything serious, but at the time, I thought . . . this is exactly the kind of woman who’d make me want a real relationship.”

“Rachel,” she said slowly. “Didn’t your brother . . .”

“Marry her?” I said in a dry tone. “He did.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “We weren’t aware she was dating both of us at the same time. Then . . . she got pregnant with Bryce. We hadn’t slept together in over a month by that point. I went on a trip with Marcus to visit his family, was busy when I got home, so she knew it was Barrett’s. She came clean to both of us after that. They got engaged because my brother, of course, stepped up to do the right thing and take care of her. Barrett and I stopped talking when they got married.”

There was a telling beat of silence—thick and loaded—while she took that in. Her brow was probably pinched, eyes big in her face. If she were in front of me, I’d smooth my thumb in that space between her eyebrows and tell her not to worry.

“Isn’t he divorced now?”

“He is. Lucky guy. She’s a fucking snake.”

“So why don’t you talk now? If she’s out of the picture.”

I managed a tight grin, thankful she couldn’t see. “Because the night he asked for a divorce, she showed up at my apartment in New York, and he followed her. Found her coming out of my place not long after she showed up.”

“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “D-did you—”

“No. But he assumed we did. Couldn’t bring himself to actually ask.”

“Didn’t you tell him? I can’t believe he’d think that.” Her indignation came through the phone like a heat wave, and I had to smile. Still defending me, even when I didn’t deserve it.

“I told him she wasn’t there more than a few minutes.” I swallowed, staring up at the stars, brighter now in the ink-black sky. “And I guess that wasn’t enough of a denial to him.”

“He didn’t believe you?”

“Why would he? All Barrett ever saw me as was the fuckup little brother who skated by on luck and a big personality.”

“That is not true,” she said hotly. “You’re . . . you’re so talented, Griffin. And smart and kind and funny.”

“You gonna fight my battles for me, birdy?”

“Yes. He’s not being fair.”

“No, he wasn’t,” I admitted. The next words came out slower, like I had to tear them from my throat. “But . . . sometimes I can’t help but wonder if I would’ve reacted any differently if I was him.”

She paused. “What do you mean?”

I swiped a hand over my mouth and tried to figure out how to say all the things looping through my brain. “I’m just as stubborn as he is, you know? I acted out, made childish decisions, pushed his buttons when I could’ve just . . . backed off. I was so focused on not being him that it became this mask I was wearing, you know? Dropping it got harder and harder the older I got.”

“You weren’t wearing a mask with me,” she said, and I smiled at how certain she sounded.

“No, I wasn’t.”

Ruby sucked in a breath. “So . . . what would happen if you told your brother that? He was wrong too. He judged you unfairly, and he owes you an apology for that. But maybe . . . maybe you could take the first step, if you wanted to try and fix things.”

I laid a hand on my chest and did nothing more than breathe. When I finally spoke, I could hardly hear the words. “And what if he still doesn’t hear me? What if . . . what if we’re just doomed to always live in the mold people place us in?”

She paused. “Do you really believe that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” I told her. “I think sometimes you hear people talk about you long enough, you start believing what they say. You start acting the way they expect, because why not, you know? Saying stupid shit because everyone thinks you’ve got a big mouth anyway. And then before I know it, I’ve become the exact kind of guy my brother thinks I am.”

“You’re not, though. You’re not.” She sniffed again, and the thought that Ruby Tate would lose any tears over me made me feel like tearing at my own skin. “You are wonderful, Griffin. I wish you could see it.”

My eyes burned at the plea buried in her voice. “I think you’ve made me better, Ruby. So I guess I owe you a thank-you too.”

“Me? I didn’t do anything.”

“You gonna argue with me about my emotional growth?”

“Well . . . no. But I don’t think I can take credit for it either.”

“You probably should. All this time, I needed my own little birdy to knock me back into line,” I said lightly, but my heart was racing at the truth of it. I had to grit my teeth, claw my way back into some semblance of composure, because I was seconds away from asking if I could drive to her place, no matter how late it was. Seeing her would be enough to satisfy the craving that had throbbed constantly since I’d left. Touching her would send me to my knees.

“I don’t think you needed me to put you anywhere,” she insisted. “If anything changed for you, it’s because you wanted it to.”

I scrubbed my face as I sat up in the chair. Everything in my head was spinning out of control, and until I heard her voice, I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten.

“Do you want to fix things?” she asked. “With your brother, I mean.”

I want to fix things with you, I thought desperately. Bring us back to where we were before. I didn’t spend my time wisely when she was right in front of me. Every night, I should’ve slept with her in my arms and memorized the perfect way she fit against me. Every day, I should’ve spoiled her rotten, kept her warm and safe, held her hand in the dark and felt the steady thrum of her heart under my cheek while I curled my body over hers.

I chose my words carefully. “It should be easy, shouldn’t it? To put yourself out there with someone who . . . who means a lot to you.”

Ruby was quiet for a moment. “It should.”

My eyes pinched shut. “But what if they don’t want what you want? What if you give them a glimpse of what you’ve been hiding underneath all the bullshit and they still walk away?”

Through the phone, I heard a trembling breath escape her mouth, and I had to tilt my head back to fight for control.

“I think you have to decide what you’ll regret more,” she said slowly. “If the risk is worth it.”

It was a humbling thing, to admit how much of my life I’d been held back by a fear of truly disappointing people. Oh, I’d done that in spades, but it wasn’t me trying to be the best version of myself. Wasn’t me trying at all, really.

But when you finally find someone who makes you want to be better? The fear becomes a looming shadow you can’t escape and you can’t ignore. I didn’t want to just be better for Ruby; I wanted her every fucking day I could have her, and there was no denying it anymore.

A flash of her face looped through my mind, when she’d asked me to teach her. When she’d set down her own fears and asked for help. When she’d risked something important because the regret would’ve weighed too heavy at the end of the day.

Sitting there in the dark, underneath the blue sky and the bright stars, I knew that when it came to Ruby Tate, I’d regret doing nothing. I’d regret it until the day I died.

“I’m going to change the subject for a second,” I warned her.

“Okay.”

“Will you come to the first day of training camp? Players invite friends and family, and . . . and I’d like to have you there.” My chest expanded on a deep breath. “I don’t usually have anyone out there for me.”

Ruby let out a shocked noise. “Really? I . . . Are you sure? That seems like a big deal.”

“It is,” I admitted slowly, heart hammering. “For me, it is. I’ve never asked anyone, but . . . will you come? It’s not for another couple weeks, and . . . I know you’re busy, and so am I. But I’d love to see you. Maybe you could come over after and see my place. Climb up in my tree and test it out.”

“If that’s a euphemism, you need to work harder.”

I laughed deeply, the smile in her voice sending a warm jolt through my veins. “It’s not, but I’ll take that into consideration.”

“Okay,” she said shyly. “Text me the date, and I’ll . . . I’ll see if it works in my schedule.”

Hope bled through my chest, and even though half of me wondered what the fuck I was playing at, I knew I had to do something. Anything.

After so many weeks, she hadn’t faded from my mind in the slightest, and I knew one thing for certain: I wasn’t willing to be nothing to her anymore.