Chapter Twenty-Nine
Roman
"I don't fucking know why we're friends." Don shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. He was squinting into the setting sun from where we sat out on his porch.
"Because no one else can stand you," I shot back.
He lifted the cat that had jumped up into his lap and put it back on the ground. It just jumped up again. There were a lot of cats on Don's family property. Some of them their cats, some that had wandered onto the property and just not left since they started being fed. Before they figured that they should have gotten the lot of them neutered and spayed, one of them had managed to drop two litters of kittens. Once in a while, Don would have them in the house, but mostly they hung out outside. One really old, big one with just one eye had fallen asleep near my foot.
"I have plenty of friends," he said. "You think I wouldn't have been able to replace you if you left again?"
"Good thing you don't have to put out that lonely hearts ad now."
"Like I said, I don't know how the fuck we're friends."
"You should be a lot happier about the fact that I'm staying. Maybe I should fucking leave."
"I wouldn't let you stay because of me, and you shouldn't stay for the reason you're doing it, either."
"I don't expect you to get it," I said, taking a swig of my beer.
"You're right. I don't."
"One day, when you meet the right girl, you will." He snorted.
"The girl who's gonna make me give up my dream just to be with her? No thanks. Wherever she is, she can stay there."
"I'm hopeful for you," I said, laughing.
"I'm not. You just had to go find her again after last year," he said.
"It would have happened sooner or later."
"Yeah. Wish it was later. You're really doing this?"
"Tonight. I'm calling the coach and telling the offer is great and all, but I can't take it."
"What will you say when he asks why?"
"Why the hell would he ask me that?"
"To talk you out of it. Maybe you'll listen to him if not to me."
"It won't work," I said simply, having another drink.
"You're an idiot," he said.
"You told me that already."
"I swear. Don't tell anyone we know each other. I can't be seen with you," he said, smirking at me. I knew he was kidding. It didn't matter what he thought. He wasn't the one who this was going to affect.
"Good to know I have your support," I joked.
"Do what you have to do, man. I just don't want you to end up regretting this."
"It's her. I know it is. Right now, this is where I have to be. I can't imagine a future without her. If football's still meant to happen, then it will. I'm not giving her up. That's not an option." Don sighed.
"You know what? If that's how it's gonna be, then I can't wait for the wedding," he said.
What was Don like when he was in love? The last girl he had been with was back when we were in high school and after the two of them broke up, he wouldn't even look at her anymore. I figured he could, for the right person, change and actually make them happy, but I knew he wouldn't appreciate the psychoanalysis.
"Oh, you're not invited. So you can fuck your way through Ron's bridesmaids?" He laughed.
"You know that's the only reason why single people go to weddings," he said.
He offered me another beer but I passed. I wanted to get home. Ron was coming over and I was cooking dinner that night. He tried to give me a hard time about blowing him off, but I ignored him.
It wasn't a competition, Ron did things for me that he didn't and couldn't do...and stuff I didn't want him to do, if we were being honest. I thought about maybe setting up double date or something where the two of them could meet. I didn't talk about Don to Veronica as much as the other way around, but something like that could be fun.
I had left all the groceries that I needed to cook the meal in the car. I passed by the store to buy the last couple things, wine, and dairy that would have spoiled if I left it in the car while I was at Don's, and went home. I could cook, if by cook you meant make oatmeal, ramen, rice...basically things you just added water to in order to make them not raw anymore. I was just making pasta, but I was making the cheese sauce from scratch. I had bought a rotisserie chicken at the same time as getting the wine, which I'd just carve up later.
The goal was to make it edible, and I was mostly confident that was what it was going to be by the time she got here. I wanted to be able to tell her that I was making the decision to turn down the deal before I made the call. Maybe she could be in the room as I made it. I had kept it to myself since my mind was made up already. I didn't want to take the deal. Tonight, I'd tell her everything. Nothing was standing between us again.
I was just slipping the chicken into the oven to heat up when I heard her at the door. She had a key and was walking in.
"Ron," I said, coming up to her. She gave me a small smile and let me kiss her.
"Hi," she said, pushing some hair back behind her ear.
"How was your day?" I asked. Her purse was still up on her shoulder, and her arms were crossed.
"Okay," she said, shrugging.
"Dinner's almost ready. Do you want wine?" She shook her head.
"No wine. I drove here."
"It's one glass. Besides, it's not like you have to drive back tonight."
"I don't want any wine," she snapped.
"Okay. No wine. What can I get you?"
"Nothing, Roman. I'm sorry you've already gone to so much trouble tonight."
"Trouble? What? Did you want to go out?"
"Roman," she said, looking down and taking a deep breath. "I came to end things tonight. I don't want to see you anymore." I looked at her, waiting for her to keep going, or just say something else that meant what she had just said wasn't true.
"Ron… What? What are you talking about?"
"I want to break up. I don't want to be with you anymore. It's over."
"The fuck it is. Where the hell is this coming from, Ron?"
"I shouldn't have let you back in. I had a life when you left, and you came back and acted like I should have just stopped everything for you. I did, and I wish I hadn't. It wasn't fair to me after what you did, Roman. I don't want to be with you, and I never want to see you again."
"Ron, you can't-" I reached for her arm and she violently pulled away.
"Don't touch me. Don't talk to me. I should have done this in the first place, that day I came to see you at the picnic spot. Never contact me again, Roman. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to know. I just want my old life back." She turned and walked towards the door, stopping suddenly. She turned back and came up to me. She took my hand and placed my key in it. Then she left.
I ran to the door after her, only to watch her slam her car door and back out of the driveway. She was gone.
I closed the door and looked at the key she had put in my hand. I had given her the key because she had given me one of hers, to be able to get in her place just in case she was out. I still had it. I thought for a second that I needed to return it, but stopped myself. She didn't want me to contact her.
I didn't know what to do. I had heard her, but her words didn't make sense. They hadn't sunk in all the way yet. I walked into the kitchen and picked up my phone. I scrolled down to her number but she wasn't going to pick up, she was driving. Who the hell was I going to call? Don? Tiffany? My dad? My thumb hovered over the number till I shut my eyes and let it fall, holding it to my ear. I listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before he picked up.
"Hello?" His gruff voice issued over the line. I hoped that meant I wasn’t calling him too late.
"Coach Hayes? This is Roman Blake," I said.
"Roman, I've been expecting to hear from you."
"Sorry I kept you waiting."
"So, what do you say?"
"Yes. I'll do it. I want to do it."
"You sure you don't need more time, son?" he asked. He was ribbing me. "Nobody's ever made us wait on them the way you have. You better make sure you're worth the time we could have spent looking for another QB."
"Of course. I'm ready."
"Well, the soonest we can start processing everything is tomorrow morning. You don't change your mind, you'll be here in Miami within a month." I swallowed.
"I'm looking forward to it, sir."
"Welcome to the Hurricanes, Roman."
"Thanks," I said, through gritted teeth. We hung up, and I dropped my phone on the kitchen counter. I went to the kitchen and turned the stove off. The food was ready by now, but I wasn't hungry anymore.
I thought it would feel better taking the deal. I had just prepared myself to be losing it, not to be losing Ron, so it didn't feel like a victory. I looked down at my phone almost wondering why I had done it.
I'd be gone within a month? She had said she didn't want to talk to me... A month was too fucking long.