I was the worst of the worst. There was no denying that. But Kristoff wasn’t the saint he thought he was.

I woke up the next day with a pounding headache and bruises on my body. I opened my eyes and lifted my body from the living room carpet. Wine, broken glass, and cake crumbs littered the ground.

“Knock, knock!” I heard the voice of Andy ring out near the front door. “Whoa. What happened in here?”

He stepped into the living room, fists out and ready to fight. “Hey, Andy,” I said.

I looked pathetic, but I was already so used to looking that way that it didn’t even matter. Andy ran over to me and helped me up. Some pieces of glass fell off my back, embedded in the fiber of my shirt.

“Are you okay, man? What happened?” he asked.

“If I report it as a burglary, can I collect the insurance money?” I asked.

Andy didn’t laugh at my pitiable joke. “I thought you were going to your parents’ cabin to clear your head,” he said.

I carefully picked the small pieces of glass out of my shirt, sighing from the pain. “You’ll never believe what they did to me,” I said.

“Let me guess. They gave you words of encouragement and told you how much they loved you,” he said. “Your parents are the nicest people in the world.”

“I’m not denying that, but they didn’t have to call Kristoff. Did they?” I asked him.

I hobbled toward the coffee pot. I looked back to see Andy’s jaw drop. “They didn’t…”

I spooned some coffee into the filter and hit the “on” switch. “I’m telling you the truth. He came over here last night, actually,” I said, leaning against the new marble stone counter.

“So, you went berserk and destroyed your house?” Andy asked. As he stepped across the carpet, the sole of his shoes crunched against the broken glass. He stooped down to pick up the half-empty wine bottle.

I shrugged and closed my eyes, smelling the rich aroma of the coffee. “I think I love him still.” It wasn’t an easy truth to admit. I turned around and shook my head. “I’m losing my mind, Andy. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“Jesus, Addison. You’re Addi Matthews. Number 23. You’re the best quarterback to have ever graced the field,” he said.

I was sick of hearing that line. “Come on, Andy. In a year’s time, they’ll bring in another star player. They’ll call him the best there ever was too,” I said.

“So far, no one has stolen your thunder,” he said.

“So far, I don’t give a shit either way,” I mocked him. Andy looked confused. “Sorry, Andy. I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s fine, man. Just like, treat yourself a little better from now on,” Andy said.

I poured two cups of coffee and added some cream to Andy’s cup. “I’m trying, but it’s a slow process,” I said. I walked to my couch in the living room and sat down. Andy followed. “When he kissed me, I was transported back to that time. I remember that guy so vividly. It’s a different Addison.”

“Everyone feels that way,” Andy said. “As you get older, you lose a part of yourself. That’s just part of life.”

“Some people lose themselves early,” I muttered.

Andy ran his hand across my shoulders platonically and sighed. “Look, I came over because I heard some bad news and you wouldn’t answer your phone,” he said.

I placed my face against my palms. “Great. What is it now?” I asked him, full of worry.

“Holloway’s wife wants to press charges,” Andy said.

I tried not to laugh. “Bullshit,” I said.

“Would I lie to you, Addison?” he asked.

I groaned and leaned back against the gold cushion. “Okay, so I guess we’ll go to court. I mean, there’s nothing we can do. I did exactly what the coach told me to do,” I said.

“I’m not saying that you’ll lose the fight, but it’ll set you back. You might as well present them a counteroffer,” Andy said.

I nodded my head. “Yeah. Well, if you want, you can tell her that works fine for me. I’ve got enough money to write them a check, but I’m not going to talk to her. I’m not talking to any of those people again,” I said.

“You’re talking to me, Addison. They’re not all bad people,” Andy said.

“It’s just not something I want to deal with right now,” I said. “Did I tell you that Kristoff wanted to go talk to Holloway for me? He’s a personal care aide now, I guess. He thought he could bridge the gap or something.”

Andy’s eyes lit up. “Andy, no,” I said. “Seriously. I can see the wheels in your head turning right now. What are you up to?”

Andy laughed. “Nothing. It’s just a good idea,” he said.

“Not anymore,” I muttered.

Andy stood up and took out his phone. He scrolled through his contacts and stopped at Kristoff’s name. He held the small tablet up to my face. “Need me to mediate?” he asked.

The mere thought of Andy talking to Kristoff gave me anxiety. “Don’t fuck with me,” I said.

“Think about it. You can make up with Holloway. You’ll take care of all his medical bills. You’ll even give his family some extra money on the side because they’ve gone through a hell of a lot,” he said. “Then, when things are mended back together, we’ll get you on the field again, one step at a time.”

I stood up and hugged Andy. “I know you have to go, so I’ll show you out. It’s a funny image, Andy. Really, it is,” I said.

We walked toward the towering front door. “It’s a serious offer, Addison. I could be your right-hand man again. I’ll make sure you won’t have to deal with all of the bullshit this time,” Andy said.

His offer filled me with dread and discomfort. “I can’t talk about this now,” I said. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“The offer is on the table. I’ll hit you up tomorrow, and we can go over details.” The persistent bastard wouldn’t let up.

“Okay, Andy.” I laughed. “Bye!”

I shut the door and kicked my half broken coffee table. Pain shut up my ankle. “Shit,” I muttered, falling back to the floor. It was time for a change.

I turned the television on. The first thing I saw was my mugshot from when I got a DUI two years ago. “Oh, come on,” I whispered.

“Addison Matthews is a reckless alpha male. There are no two ways around it,” Bill O’Reilly said.

“Fuck you, Bill. Fucking pervert,” I muttered through my teeth angrily.

“Here’s a man who spent his whole career drinking, fighting, and paralyzing people on the field. Do we really want our children looking up to a man like that?” Bill asked the pundit.

I shut off the TV and sat in silence. I was as alone as I’ll ever be. A change was coming, but I couldn’t do it alone. I grabbed my phone and dialed the familiar ten numbers. “Hey, Kristoff? Please don’t hang up,” I pleaded.

I could hear Kristoff’s faint breathing on the other end of the line. “Last night shouldn’t have ever happened,” he said.

“Look, man, I’m feeling—” I stopped myself as an outpour of tears flooded down my eyes. “I’m just feeling really alone right now. I don’t know what to do. I’m really fucking lost,” I said.

The pause of silence seemed to last a lifetime. But Kristoff’s empathetic omega voice gave me some semblance of hope. “Stay safe, Addison. I’ll be right there,” he said.