Page 38

Chapter 37

Lily

I ’m avoiding him.

Not that it matters because he’s avoiding me too.

After Tyler’s very harsh accusations, I retreated to my room, where I didn’t come out. I cried, I paced, and while I drowned in my all-consuming broken heart, I begrudgingly packed my things.

This morning when I woke up, there was a Post-it stuck to my laptop, which I had left on the couch, that said, “Gone fishing.”

While I’m appreciative that he was still thoughtful in letting me know, he didn’t have to. He could have just left and not said a word. If I’m being honest with myself, this is what I expected from him. He made it very clear last night what he thought of me, and I think what hurts the most is I didn’t do anything wrong. He judged me in the harshest way, and I feel so emotionally crushed that I feel lost.

Looking around his beautiful home, one that had started to feel like my own, I realize I was right last night. I can’t stay here any longer. I’m pretty sure I’m not welcome either. He’s just too much of a stand-up guy to ask me to leave. Which is why I know I need to. I’ve officially worn out my welcome, and I didn’t even know I was doing it.

My heart feels like it’s weeping.

How did I get here?

How did things go so wrong?

I never thought it would come to this, at least not with us.

One moment, I’m falling in love with the guy I’ve dreamed of off and on for what feels like most of my life, and then in the next moment, I’m basically being called a gold digger and a user.

Over and over, I replayed our interactions over the last month. His smiles, his hands, his hugs, his laughter, the little things—all the moments I thought that meant something, never once did I get the impression that he was thinking differently of me. At least not until this week. I knew he had something on his mind, but not once did I think it was because he was questioning my character. I thought he knew me better than that.

My character.

I don’t know that there’s much of a worse feeling than this. I care for Tyler and respect him, but then for him to turn around, look at me like he did, and say what he said is like a punch to the gut. It hits deeper than being misunderstood because who I am as a person is being doubted.

When I first got back to my room, I was so confused. In a way, it created a disconnect because all I could repeat in my head was, “How could he think that way about me?” How I see myself and how he sees me is so different, and I don’t know what I did wrong for this to happen.

And then the betrayal set in. How many conversations did we have? How many times did I talk about my fears? I never hid anything from him, and I’ve been more open with him than I have ever been to anyone, including Morgan. But apparently, that didn’t mean anything because although he was saying all the right things and encouraging me to chase my dreams, I’m not sure he ever understood me in the first place. Or he just chose not to. Maybe where I went wrong is that I trusted him wholeheartedly, and he was looking for a reason not to trust me. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop or, better yet, emotionally throw it at me.

Did I think we’d be able to talk through it? Yes. I wanted to reach for him. I wanted to tell him how wrong he was, that deep down he knows I’m not who he’s saying I am, but I didn’t because there was no point. I pulled back and left because if he really cared for me, loved me, whatever, if he really knew me, then he wouldn’t have needed convincing. And I deserve that. I deserve someone to think the best of me and not the worst. Especially when I’m giving my all.

Leaving DC, I swore up and down I was never going to date another football player ever again. And look at what I did. Should I have defended myself more, with both of them? Maybe. But with Tyler, I didn’t even realize his judgments were happening. And as I lay in bed last night, even though I know who I am, him questioning my integrity made me look at myself through a different-colored lens. Is that how I come across? Am I subconsciously using him like he says I am? I never thought so, but he sure did. And I hate questioning myself, especially when I had gotten to a place where I felt so good. I felt like I was finally being me.

But maybe being me should have happened on my own.

Because what does it say about me that I did move straight from one guy to the next? I’ve never lived on my own, but even as I think the words, that doesn’t feel right either. Dean and I may have lived together, but during the season, all those mini camps he goes on, and definitely toward the end of our relationship, I was basically living alone.

I mean, for crying out loud, I had a whole other successful career that he didn’t even know about. If that doesn’t scream noncommunicative and alone, I don’t know what does.

But where does that leave me?

After Dean, I knew without a doubt I didn’t want to stay in DC. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that city, but I didn’t feel called to be there, and in a weird way, I didn’t feel like the town was big enough for us both. There’s not one place I could have gone without being recognized. At one point, I even considered dyeing my hair, but really, I love my hair. I love the color. It’s uniquely me.

But Tampa, on the other hand, I love it here. I feel like this is where I’m meant to be. Salty air, a warm breeze, lots of water and sunshine—it feels like me. I don’t want to move cities again, and if there’s one thing I’m sure of coming out of this, it’s that I’m not going to. And also, for the first time in a long time, I feel like I made real friends because they’re really genuine people. Not saying that the others aren’t, but there’s a difference between a cleat chaser and these women. Did I meet them because of Tyler? Yes. But even if we aren’t together anymore, I can’t see them suddenly saying goodbye. These friendships go beyond that.

I feel confident with this choice. I love Tampa, I love the people, and quite frankly, I love the Tampa Tarpons. Something I never imagined I would ever say.

But at the same time, at this moment, I don’t feel like I can call any of them. What would they even say to me? “Don’t worry, he’ll come around” or “I’m sure he didn’t mean those things.” But didn’t he?

There’s a unique kind of loneliness that comes from feeling misjudged. I exposed all the parts of me, yet he still didn’t see me, and I don’t know where I go from here.

Actually, I do.

Grabbing his Post-it, I scribble a few words, leave it on the refrigerator, and head back to my room to collect my things.