Chapter Twenty-Eight
It took every ounce of willpower not to keep driving past her house as I got closer. But I had to do this. I had to tell her what I’d done. It had to be face-to-face. Anything else would be a coward’s way out, and she deserved so much better than that. I pulled up behind her Jeep and parked the truck. The tears I’d expected earlier threatened to show themselves. On the way to her house, every scenario on her reaction flashed through my mind. Every single one ended the same way. Mallory would never forgive me. I knew that. I knew this was the end of us.
And I knew I’d never recover.
The short walk from the truck to her front door was longer than the walk from the locker room to Coach’s office. Each step forward reverberated in my skull like a hammer breaking granite. When I reached the door, I pushed the ancient doorbell instead of using my key.
She opened the door a few moments later with a wet plate and dishtowel in her hand. In a flash, her expression went from irritation to surprised to sultry.
“Booty call?” she asked as she stepped back to let me in.
God, I wished it was. I shook my head as I walked past her into the living room.
“What’s going on, Aaron?” Her hand rested on the back of my arm, and I stepped away from her. Her touch was enough to make me want to jump off a bridge.
We stood like that, me facing the living room and her somewhere behind me, for too long to count. Finally, I found my voice. “I fucked up.”
“What do you mean?” Mallory’s words were punctuated with confusion, fear, and disappointment.
I swallowed hard and tried to figure out the easiest way to tell her. The scenarios I’d imagined replayed in my mind as I kept searching for a way out of this mess. My heart crashed into my ribs.
“Aaron?” There was the desperation I’d hoped not to hear.
I closed my eyes and opened my mouth. “I… You have to understand one thing, Mallory. I didn’t know anything about your family. Please remember that?”
“You’re scaring me.” She tensed, and I could see every single wall I’d torn down rebuild brick by brick around her. “Did you… Please tell me you didn’t sleep with someone else.”
My eyes flew open and I spun on my heel. “God, no. I’d never do that to you. I love you, Mallory.”
“Then what?” Tears filled her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. I knew her better than that.
I reached out and ran my finger along her jaw. “I’m so sorry.”
She stepped back from me, letting my hand linger in the empty air where she’d stood. “Tell me. Or I’m going to think the worst.”
I dropped my hand and willed myself to look away from her, but I couldn’t. My gaze held hers. “And it wouldn’t be bad enough.”
Mallory stared at me. I knew she was trying to work out the problem and a potential solution. There wasn’t one. I had to just tell her.
“I…last year while I was recovering, I took HGH.” My breathing became quicker, my pulse raced. I ignored the tightening in my chest, waiting for her to say something. But she said nothing. She didn’t even move. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard before opening them. “And steroids.”
The plate fell from her hand, shattering around her bare feet.
“Get out.” Her voice was too calm, too soft. The walls I’d watched her take down slowly, slammed back into place.
“Can I ju—” Desperation filled my throat, clogging it with everything I needed to say to her.
“Get out.” Her tone stayed neutral as her gorgeous eyes turned to glass.
“Ple—”
“GET OUT!” Her scream rattled the windows. She stepped on the broken glass as she turned away from me.
“I didn’t know,” I whispered. She had to understand that. How could I have known this would hurt her so much? Hell, I didn’t even think she’d give me a chance when I’d started taking the PEDs. My chest tightened again as my heartbeat played in my ears. I reached up and rubbed my left pec. “Please, Mallory. I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know?” Her voice was calmer than it should’ve been as she faced me. “That’s your excuse? That you didn’t know? You think that somehow makes this okay?” She breathed with barely controlled rage as her chest heaved like she’d run a marathon. “You’re just like my father, my brother. Baseball’s the only thing that will ever matter to you. Baseball above everyone else. Even yourself. Get out of my house, Aaron. Get out of my life.”
She turned around, keeping her back to me, and pointed toward the front door. I glanced down at her feet where the blood pooled near her toes. She didn’t shift her feet away from the broken plate, or even act like the cuts hurt. Maybe they didn’t because my confession hurt her more.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I can take care of myself.” Her head dropped to her chest. The coldness left her voice, and the agony radiated from her. “Just go. You can’t…you can’t fix this.”
My feet wouldn’t move. It became a standoff between what she wanted and what I wanted. She would win.
“Leave,” she ordered. “We’re done.”
“I know.” The reality of hearing it was much worse than imagining it. I shuffled over to the door and turned toward her. She shifted so I couldn’t see her face. “If I could turn back time, I would. But I can’t. I was only thinking about getting on the field. I let my team down. I let my coach down. Hell, I let myself down.” I reached for the door, not really sure how to put what I knew I’d done to her into words. My fingers tingled and turned cold. I let my left arm fall and reached again with my right. “And you…” The tears I’d held broke free. I sobbed like a baby. “You’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt. I was selfish and childish. And I never wanted to hurt you.” I wiped my nose with the arm of my coat. “All I wanted was to protect you from everybody who ever hurt you. When you told me…when you told me about your family…” I banged my left fist against the door, hoping to wake up the numbing sensation. “I love you. If that’s not enough to even consider giving me a chance to make it up to you, there’s nothing I can do.”
Her body lost its rigid stance, and her shoulders heaved with her own sobs.
I fell against the door. “I would do anything for you. Anything. If you’ll just give me a chance to try—”
“Please just go.” She tiptoed around the rest of the glass and hobbled through the kitchen, turning into the bathroom. The click of the door echoed in the silence.
I couldn’t move. Once I opened the door and stepped outside, that would be it. I didn’t want this to be over. Mallory was the girl I was supposed to marry. She’d stolen my heart, and I’d never recover. And I knew she’d never forgive me. I understood why, but I didn’t want to accept it. I waited, hoping she’d come out and talk.
Twenty minutes later, I hadn’t moved, and neither had she.
What little hope I thought there was, I let go. I held the key in my hand, taking it off the keychain she had made for me, and dropped it in the bowl on the table. Turning the handle, I whispered, “I’m so sorry,” and walked out her door for the last time.