A Different Game: A Wrong Game Novel

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A Different Game: A Wrong Game Novel Page 33

by Matthews, Charlie M.


  Jake’s accident had been all over the local news. Not that it was an accident. More of an unwarranted attack by some jealous, pumped-up jerk who wanted to take revenge on him for something no one ever really understood.

  I turned to my mum, slid the letter off of the table and said, “Mum?”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “I’m going to New York.”

  52

  I often wondered why Taylor spent hours up here alone in the darkness with only the stars for company. The open air sent shivers through my body, the biting chill creeping up my neck and back down to my fingertips.

  I never came up here. Not before tonight. I didn't know why. I guess I felt as though I was intruding. This was Taylor's private sanctuary, after all. A place he had adopted as his own when he felt like he was suffocating with the constant demand down below.

  But now I understood.

  Now I understood why this place meant so much to him and why he never wanted to share it with anyone.

  Up here, there was no concealment. No pretending to be someone you weren’t. No one to tell you how you should and shouldn’t live your life. No expectations, just you and a sea of stars for you to share your deepest, darkest secrets with. The stars never demanded anything in return. They never judged. They never even spoke back. They were just there, listening, reminding you that you weren’t alone in the world.

  I breathed in the air.

  I exhaled through my nose.

  Up here, I could be whoever I wanted to be. Up here I could so easily pretend that everything in my life was as I wanted it to be. Up here, I didn't have to be afraid of the world. I didn't have to be afraid of change. I didn't have to try to be different.

  “Don't jump. It's not worth it!” a deep, urgent voice called out.

  I glanced briefly behind me as Taylor's voice echoed around me. He shot me a grin.

  “You're back?”

  “Yep, came straight here from the airport.” I heard his bag drop to the ground before he came up beside me. It felt like the longest moment had passed since either of us made even a sound. It was Taylor's voice that came next, though. “Did you break the wheelchair or something?”

  I shrugged. “It got in my way.” It hadn’t. Not really. Although it was hard to manoeuvre around the house in the damn thing. Especially when I needed to take a piss and there wasn’t enough room to fit through the fucking door.

  Taylor nodded in understanding. He had been great the last few weeks following the accident. He even put his start date on hold for me until I was settled in at home. I told him that wasn’t what I wanted. I had enough shit going on in my life without the guilt of knowing I was getting in the way of him following his dreams. He wouldn’t have any of it, though.

  Mum continued to fuss over me as though I was a kid again, making sure I was constantly fed and watered. I tried not snap at her, even when I felt the desperate urge to yell at her that I was capable of making my own sandwich. I knew she meant well and I had done well not to let my frustrations show. Taylor seemed to know when it was getting too much at home and tried to convince me to get some fresh air. He’d bundle me in the car like an infant, and then drive me to a woodland area just outside of Winslow, where he’d haul me back into the wheelchair and push me along the gravel track in silence. But that all changed last week when Taylor announced that he had to leave for a few days to train. His eyes were on mine the whole time, waiting for me to tell him that I would be fine without him. I figured if I’d said I wasn’t, he would’ve stuck around. I hated having to rely on him. What I hated more than that was being looked down on with sympathy. I knew that was what they thought, and they were right. Jake Knight, the once shining star turned invalid, now having to rely on his superstar brother to hold his hand.

  Three days after surgery, I was released from hospital with strict instructions that I was not to use my leg for anything other than stretching out the knots until I’d been given the all clear. I hated the wheelchair and the sick feeling it gave me whenever I’d opened my eyes on a morning and seen it beside my bed. The crutches had worked for the short journeys, like to and from the kitchen, but anything else had caused my knee to seize up, which resulted in me having to pop more pills to dull the pain. The surgeon said it would take at least three months before I could gain full use of my leg again, but even that wasn’t a certainty. The physio would come next. More months of prodding and poking for them to tell me the same thing the doctor had told me when we’d realised the extent of my injury. I was well and truly out of the game. He’d assured me that one day I would be able to kick a ball again, but my chances of ever playing professionally were long gone. Not that he needed to tell me. The pain I’d experienced three weeks before was enough of a reminder. That, and the local news insistence on relieving the very moment my career had ended for good. Even to this day, I never fully understood why the guy had done what he’d done. Even when Taylor confronted the guy, he never admitted to his part in the incident.

  “So, the weirdest thing just happened,” Taylor said. I glanced at him, inhaled, then stared back out into the sky, waiting for him to continue. “Melanie was there.”

  Melanie.

  She was there? At the airport? She hadn't mentioned anything about going away. Then again, I refused to see her after the accident.

  “She was at the airport. Can you believe it?”

  I tried to hide the way that made me feel but I knew it was no good. I had to remove her from my life completely. Then my thoughts. Then altogether, as though she never existed. It was harder to do than I realised.

  Taylor leaned forward as he looked down. Everything was so small down below, yet somehow still clear enough that I could make out the small bench surrounded by flowers where Mum would sit on an evening, glass of wine in one hand, magazine in the other. I could still picture it like it was yesterday. Things were so different now. This place. This house. The memories. I knew they would fade away once the house was sold and my parents’ divorce was finalised. They tried to keep it from me until I was back on my feet, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew something was going on and strangely, I wasn’t even surprised by the news. Dad told Mum she could keep the house and refused to take a penny of her money, but she had refused, saying that she couldn’t continue living in the house when there were so many memories lingering around the place. She needed a fresh start and I guess I understood that.

  Taylor cleared his throat beside me. “She was acting weird.”

  “What did she say?” I found myself asking. I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer. I waited for it anyway.

  “She said sorry.”

  “Sorry? That's all she said?” I frowned.

  “Yeah. She said she was sorry and left.”

  “She left? Where did she go?” I rushed out. I wasn't sure why. Call it a deep feeling in very pit of my stomach or whatever, but suddenly I was filled with a panic I couldn't hide.

  “I don't know. I didn't ask. Why does it matter, anyway? It's good, right? She's out of our lives now. And forever by the looks of it.”

  My back stiffened and I looked to my brother for answers. She was out of our lives? She couldn't be.

  “What do you mean she's gone forever?” I forced out.

  “Well, call me stupid but not even she would take that amount of luggage on a two-week holiday.”

  No. She wouldn’t leave. Not now that her parents were back in her life and making an effort. It didn’t make sense. Maybe she was just going away on holiday. Taylor could be wrong. Chicks took a shit tonne of luggage, whether it was for a long weekend or two weeks. He had to have been wrong. I couldn’t chance it, though. I needed to know what she was doing.

  I continued towards the door and pulled on the handle. “Taylor? How long ago? Where was she going?” I stumbled back and clutched the edge of the railing for support.

  “I don't know. She didn't say. Why all the questions?”

  “How long ago did you see her?”

&n
bsp; “About half an hour, why?” He frowned.

  “I need to go.”

  “What? Jake, wait. Where're you going?” he said, rushing over to my side as I attempted to quicken my steps.

  “To stop her. I have to stop her.”

  “Stop her? Are you fuckin’ crazy?” he cursed in frustration

  Yes. Crazy fucking mad.

  I didn't answer him.

  I clutched the banister as I climbed down the steep steps, ducking my head as I did. Pain sliced through me with each bend of the knee and I bit down on my lip to force it down.

  “Jake, wait! You can’t drive. Are you insane?”

  I didn’t care whether I got there in one piece. I just needed to get to her.

  Taylor jumped down the last step as I rounded the corner and he gripped my elbow to support me. “I’ve got it, Tay,” I told him, feeling all the more frustrated.

  “Like hell you have.” He slipped his arm around my waist to guide me towards the front door. Grabbing his car keys, he pulled back the door and helped me in the car.

  “Fuck!” he swore, banging his fist down on the roof of the car. “Buckle up. I’ll be right back.”

  He was back thirty seconds later with my crutches tucked under his arm. He shoved them in the back of the car, started the engine and tore out of the driveway like he was Colin McRae. For once, I was grateful with the speed he drove at because, right then, there was only one thing on my mind. And that was to stop her. Or at the very least, try. I just hoped I got to her in time.

  The drive to the airport hadn’t taken long. To me, though, it felt like forever.

  “She’ll be there, mate,” Taylor assured me as he dropped me off at the front of the departure lounge and handed me my crutches. I nodded, praying he was right, and pushed a crutch under each arm.

  Those three weeks without Melanie had been torture. She’d thought I’d blamed her for the accident, but that couldn’t have been any further from the truth. My pride had been bruised. I hadn’t wanted her to see me like that—to look at me with that same sorrowful expression the doctors looked at me. I had to make her believe that I’d hated her so she stopped coming by the hospital. I’d never stopped thinking about her, though. Not even for a second. But she deserved better than me. She deserved a better life. One with a man that was worthy of her love. A man who could take care of her, provide for her. I couldn’t be that person. The accident had fucked me up. Not just physically, but mentally, too. But the pain I’d felt after the accident and the realisation that I’d never get to play football again, it was nothing compared to the pain I felt now knowing that this could be the last time I ever saw her.

  I waded through the crowds that mingled around the lounge, my eyes shifting from side to side in search of her. People parted, halting their conversations as they eyed me curiously between letting me pass. I was certain I looked like a crazed man. It didn’t stop me from pushing past the pain to get to her.

  I frantically scanned the room, a deep fear creeping its way inside of me at the thought of not seeing her face again. But something stopped me from going any farther. Something stopped me from gripping at the crutches and taking another step forward.

  I didn’t have to turn to know it was her. I could feel her. My back stiffened and I closed my eyes. A silent thank you to God for not taking her from me.

  I opened my eyes, held the crutches by the handle and slowly turned around.

  Nothing could have prepared me for the onslaught of feelings that followed shortly after.

  My God, she was beautiful.

  An angel in a sea of jumbled bodies, rushing around, minding their own business. Kids crashing into their parents as they attempted to carry their own cases. Yet, there Melanie stood, shining above everyone.

  I could feel her.

  Smell her.

  It was as if she could sense me before she realised I was there.

  Her eyes, big and afraid, were alive with wonder yet sad.

  Our eyes locked as I hobbled the small distance to where she was standing. Luggage cases sat at her feet, boarding pass clutched tightly in her hand. When I stopped in front of her, she opened her mouth. It was as though she wanted to say something but couldn't quite believe I was there. Like she wanted to ask a million questions at once but the words wouldn't come.

  “You're leaving?” I panted, my hands clutching my knees as I fought to steady my breathing.

  “Jake? What are you doing here? Your leg…You're meant to be resting it.”

  “Fuck the leg,” I pushed out through heavy breaths. I shook my head and righted myself. “You were leaving?”

  “I am leaving. What's going on? What are you doing here?”

  “Just like that? What about your parents? Do they even know you've gone?”

  “I’m a grown woman. I haven't answered to my parents in a long while.”

  “Fine, but what about Frankie? Does she know?”

  “She knows. Look, I have to go. My plane is leaving—” She bent to gather her luggage together.

  “Don't. Don't go. Stay, Mel.”

  Mel shook her head. “I have to go.”

  “No one wants you to leave. Your parents… they care. I know they do. I know they wouldn't want you to leave.”

  “They already know, Jake. They’re happy for me.”

  “They’re letting you leave? Just like that?”

  “It’s not like that. Besides, I’ve spent the last four years without them. I’m sure they can live without me for a little while longer.” She smirked.

  “I can’t,” I admitted. “I wouldn't be able to live without you, Mel.”

  “Clearly. You're here, aren't you?”

  “I don't mean that. I mean… Fuck, Mel. I care. I fucking care, alright? I. Care.”

  “It doesn't matter.”

  “It does. It does matter and you know it. I should have told you. I should've told you the first moment I saw you again. I was pissed at you. I wanted to hate you. Hell, I tried so hard to hate you, but I don't. I don't.”

  “Jake, please, I have to…”

  I dropped the crutches to the floor and held her face in my hands, forcing her eyes on mine. When I looked into them, I saw it. Vulnerability, disappointment, sadness. I saw it all. It was so clear, like the stars up on the rooftop. There was no way of missing them. No way of ignoring it.

  She lowered her eyes and I dropped my forehead against hers. I breathed in, her scent filling my lungs. And then I said it. I said the three words I should’ve said to her a long time ago. This time there would be no hesitation, no more self-doubt, no more worrying over what other people would say.

  “I love you,” I breathed. “I love you so fuckin’ much and it drives me crazy. You drive me crazy, Mel. Sometimes I feel like I might actually lose the last ounce of sanity I have left. You do this to me. Only you. I love you.”

  “You love me?” Her eyes held mine for the longest moment, searching for truth beyond the words.

  “I do. I really do.”

  She shook out of the hold I had on her and began pacing back and forth, lifting her eyes to mine and then dropping them again.

  “Why are you doing this now? I had it all planned out. I was going to get on that plane with my head held high and make something of myself. Why now? Why now, Jake?”

  “Because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I never told you how I really felt about you. Because I’m selfish. And because you needed to know. You needed to know that someone loved you. That I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Jake.”

  “You do?” I asked. Hope began to fill the space between us. I could feel it so deep, so thick, I wanted so desperately to grasp at it. I couldn't let her leave. She needed someone to love her. Someone to look after her.

  “I do…” She smiled. “But you can't ask me to stay here.”

  “I’m not asking you to. I’m—”

  “Because if you do, I’m afraid I might say yes and then what? You’ll leave
me eventually because, let's face it, I’m not exactly girlfriend material, am I? I’m not the type of girl men like you settle down with.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re exactly that girl, Mel.”

  “You may feel that way now, but a few months from now? Years, if it ever got that far? Then what? We’ll both be burdened with so many regrets that would only end up destroying us.”

  “You're wrong. I could never regret a single moment spent with you. Not ever.” When she stopped pacing, I stepped closer. “You are brilliant and beautiful, and behind that cold exterior—that brick wall shielding what's really behind it—there's warmth and there's kindness, and there's so much passion that you find yourself drowning in it… and it's scary. Without you, the world would be a dull and gloomy place, Melanie Livingston.”

  “I’d have to agree with you there.” She laughed brazenly, yet her cheeks brightened as she tried desperately to hide how she truly felt.

  “I don't want to do this without you,” I continued as I took another step towards her. “I don't want to live another second without you by my side, in my life.”

  “I don't know what to say.”

  Another step.

  Another wave of emotion sliced through me.

  “Say you'll stay. Say you'll forgive me. At the very least try to forgive me. And give me another shot. Give us a shot.”

  “You and me?” she asked curiously, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

  “You and me,” I assured her.

  “And you're sure?”

  “I couldn't be more sure of anything if I tried.”

  Dragging her teeth across her bottom lip, she said, “It's gonna be hard.”

  “Really fuckin’ hard.”

  “We’ll argue.”

  “A lot.”

  “We’ll drive each other crazy.”

  “We already do.”

  “Your family will hate this.”

  “I don't care.”

  “You do.” She grinned.

  “I do,” I admitted, taking another step closer.

  “Are you ready for that?”

 

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