Moving Forward

BROOKE

Not a single day goes by in the following month without everyone in the house feeling depressed.

Luna isn’t as active or getting into mischief, to the point where I try to stick a new toilet paper roll right under her nose, wanting her to tear it to shreds right in front of my eyes. At least that would feel normal.

But nope, nothing. She just lies there on her doggy bed, looking at me with sad eyes.

As for Sydney…she’s not the same little girl she once was. I haven’t seen a smile on her face in so long.

None of my attempts at cheering her up have worked. Not her favorite movies, not her favorite foods, not even suggesting we have candy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner one day. Nothing!

“Have you heard from him lately?” Julie asks me over drinks. In her attempt to force me out of my house, she’s personally hired a babysitter for Syd and all but dragged me to a bar.

“Nope…not that I would hear from him anyway,” I sigh, finishing my beer and waving the bartender over for a refill and a shot.

“I heard some of what he said, outside your office that day,” she offers hesitantly. “I know what he said to John was bad, but it really sounded like he was sorry, and he wanted another chance. Don’t you think…?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” I say, cutting her off. “He’s gone to Kansas City. It’s the same story as always…eventually, they make a choice, football or me, and football always wins.

“I knew from the beginning that football was what Colin wanted, so once again I’m the stupid one left behind.”

“Brooke, don’t say that,” Julie sighs. There’s not much more for her to say, though, because she knows I’m right.

“So,” she says bleakly, “how’s Sydney taking all of this? First John, then Colin?” The bartender arrives with my shot and I throw it back, groaning both from the sting of our conversation and the potency of alcohol numbing my insides.

“Ugh! It’s awful…I hate seeing her like this. I know she’s so miserable. She says Colin promised her so many things…he even offered her football lessons as a Christmas present!” I huff a laugh.

“She still wants to play. She was all excited a few weeks ago, coming home with a flyer for an all-kids’ football league starting in town. It was nice seeing her happy for a minute, even if I had to crush her dreams, again.” I swirl my beer around in my glass.

“Why not let her join?” Julie asks, and I bring the beer to my mouth for a chug.

“Because!”

“Oh, come on! Because why?”

“Because, Julie…I almost lost her! I can’t let anything happen to her!”

Julie covers my hand with hers. “Brooke, you can’t shelter her from everything. I know you try your damnedest, but look at what she’s already gone through.

“A serious, traumatizing allergic reaction that put her in the hospital for two days, losing her father, and losing Colin, who she probably thought of more as her dad than John!”

Hearing those words brings the sting of the alcohol back up my throat.

“I know you want to protect her, but that girl is tough as nails. Now more than ever, Syd needs an outlet… to do something she loves, especially if it makes her happy.” Julie’s words sink in deep.

I do my best, for the rest of the night, to have a good time with my friend. Mostly, I succeed in getting myself unpleasantly tipsy.

I get home late, thank and pay the babysitter, and fall into my lonely, cold bed, feeling tired and a little nauseous. Luna stays in her doggy bed. Lately she’s been too depressed to even snuggle up with me anymore, making these nights even lonelier.

I think a lot about what Julie and I talked about, tossing ideas back and forth in my head until I get dizzy.

I still remember the conversation Colin and I had during Thanksgiving about Sydney playing football. He said I couldn’t protect her from everything, that her peanut allergy was more dangerous than football could ever be. How right he turned out to be.

Julie basically said the same thing tonight. Even back then, some part of me knew Colin was right. I can’t protect Sydney from everything in the world, no matter how hard I try.

As I try to get comfortable and fall asleep, my mind drifts through other thoughts about Colin. It’s been over a month since I last saw him. That day in my office when he begged through the door… he sounded as broken as I was inside.

So he probably meant what he said—that he was sorry, that he never meant to hurt me, that what he said to John was a long time ago.

John has always been an asshole when he’s angry; he probably antagonized Colin to the point where he lost control.

I know Colin can have a temper too. I saw it happen before my eyes in the hospital, that memory I don’t want to relive or think about.

I’ve been feeling like I never even knew Colin. But I do know him. I know that he’s cocky, hotheaded, cares way too much about football… but I also know that everything he’s done since he met me has been to help and protect me.

I haven’t heard from Colin since that day in my office, and I find it odd that the media hasn’t talked much about him joining the Chiefs. Not that I’m keeping up with Colin’s whereabouts, or the media’s news related to football, of course.

I hope that wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, he’s OK.

I toss and turn, trying to find sleep, but my mind keeps wandering and my heart keeps aching until I find myself burying my face into my pillow, suffocating my weeping and wailing into soft fabric.

Crying over Colin. Crying over a love that I let slip away. I miss him, so damn much.