Torn: A Contemporary Sports Romance (Pathways Book 3)

by Krista Carleson

  “You tore your ACL ligament.”

  Liam paled, his eyes darting between my friend and me. “No. It can’t be. Are you absolutely sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then it means I won’t be able to play for months!”

  “That’s true, but the recovery time is different among different people. In some cases, non-surgical treatment is enough. In your case, it will likely require surgery and at least three months of rehabilitation, but I’ll be frank with you. It can go up to six months.”

  “No.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t have that much time.” The panic in his voice tugged at my heartstrings. “In that case, I’d miss playing the Euro cup, but I can’t miss it.”

  “Mr. Morris, I understand this is a very difficult moment for you, and I’m truly sorry, but there is nothing you or I can do about it. This type of injury requires you to take some time off while doing exercises that will bring full mobility to your knee. You’ll have to wear a brace for a few weeks and possibly use crutches to walk. As a pro soccer player, I think you’re aware of the treatment procedure when it comes to injuries like this one. It’s not something that can be dealt with right away.”

  He shook his head, reminding me of a defeated little boy. “No. This can’t be happening. I need to play as soon as possible.”

  “Liam.” I placed my hand on his shoulder. His muscles were rigid underneath my palm. “You will barely be able to walk considering the instability in your knee, let alone play soccer. I’m so sorry this is happening to you, but I’ll help you.” I held his gaze, offering him a smile to comfort him. “I promise to take care of you before your surgery and do your post-surgery rehab. I’ll be with you every step of the way, and I’ll make sure I do everything in my power to help you in your recovery.”

  His fast breathing didn’t cease, his eyes filled with fear and bitterness. I’d seen a fair share of sportsmen who went through a crisis in their career because of their serious injuries. It was difficult witnessing their downfall—a turning point in their lives that could completely destroy their future in their sport—but I had never felt as sad as I felt now. I wished I could magically remove his injury and erase the worry that was etched on his face.

  I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Everything will be alright.” I had no idea why I’d said this since they were empty words, except that I wanted to console him and lift his spirits.

  After a long time, he nodded, his face losing the previous edge. “It has to be since I have you.” He winked at me, curving his lips into a half-smile.

  I responded with a giggle that could only be described as coquettish, and my friend raised his brow, clearly flummoxed by our more than friendly exchange.

  “But I can’t miss the Euro cup.” His face grew serious again. “If I do…” He ran his hand through his hair. “It can seriously mess up my career.”

  I could hardly maintain eye contact as I nodded to him and assured him once more that everything was going to be alright, for I knew there was almost one hundred percent chance he was going to miss it. But how could I tell him that?

  6

  Several weeks had passed. Liam had started physical therapy after his surgery, doing his best every day to get better. It was inspiring because I’d had patients who were quick to lose hope and motivation after suffering an injury like this one, but Liam didn’t feel down in the dumps. He didn’t let his injury destroy his motivation and strength to keep going, showing me how strong he was. He was persistent, getting up after each fall, and I was sure that if he continued this way, he would recover much sooner than expected.

  However, his progress, no matter how great it was, didn’t lead him any closer to being able to play in the Euro cup. Even if he was able to recover sooner, he would need months of preparation for the cup, and he didn’t have that time. The Euro cup would start soon, which was why he was getting more worried about it and his future in soccer.

  “You’re doing great, Liam. Keep it up!”

  We were at Pathways, and he was currently doing straight leg raises. I could see this exercise was a lot easier for him than just a week ago.

  He was coming here every day for another round of exercises for his knee. I had taken off his protective knee brace, and he was able to move without crutches. He was experiencing pain from time to time, but it was becoming less frequent.

  The goal of his rehabilitation was to keep the knee mobile to prevent anterior knee pain but also to help him regain full knee range of motion and bring back his sense of balance. These exercises were meant to help him with it and also with strengthening his muscles.

  “You think?”

  “Yes. It’s incredible that you’re able to do all these exercises much easier than only several days ago. Many patients struggle with this, but you’re definitely something else.”

  He smirked at me, his gaze turning fiery as he checked me out, and I felt more than self-conscious in my tight jeans and a shirt that was a bit more daring than what I usually wore at my work.

  We had grown closer to each other during this time, each day teaching me something new about Liam Morris that assured me he was one adorable, irresistible, and smart guy. I felt like a swooning schoolgirl that couldn’t find flaws in their boyfriends even if you poked them in the eyes with them. I was in a phase where everything Liam did was amazing, which was going against my normally sceptical nature. I was letting him infiltrate his way into my heart, and I didn’t even want to think about what would happen if he was to leave for good. I refused to think about it.

  So I focused on good things, like spending nights with Liam watching our favorite movies and eating our weight in food. Or going to bars and enjoying a few glasses of wine, unable to take our eyes off of each other. Or the most amazing sex, even though we couldn’t try as many positions due to his injury.

  Or going to soccer matches together, watching his friends or other teams play. Those moments were bittersweet since the longing on his face was more than obvious. He missed playing, and I couldn’t even imagine how hard it was for him to be separated from something that was his passion, his life.

  I would definitely feel devastated if I was to discover one day that I couldn’t be a therapist anymore. I would have a hard time finding myself and discovering a new path, which was why I totally understood his stress and occasional bursts of anxiety. He was struggling to accept this new reality, and it was painful witnessing it.

  This was unlike me—to get attached to someone on this level—and I had no clue what to make of it.

  “You dressed like that on purpose. You’re teasing me.” He was staring at my exposed bosom, his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip.

  Thankfully, I was sitting on a chair. Otherwise, I would definitely feel weak in the knees. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted you to have a nice view while you’re down there, sweating and working hard on the floor.”

  “It’s more than nice.” He groaned, closing his eyes. “Now I can’t stop imagining cumming on your tits.”

  I squirmed in my chair, my body turning hot. The last time he came, it was all over my hand after a hand-job I gave him in my kitchen. At this point, I wanted nothing more than this session to be over with so I could undress him. Great.

  “Focus,” I said, making it sound like an order. “Don’t start slacking.”

  “Slacking?” He snorted. “These days all I’ve been doing is exercising!”

  “Touché.”

  “Sometimes I worry this will completely mess me up.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be able to play if you continue working hard to recover, but I have to remind you not to push yourself too much. You need those several months of recovery. Any less than that will put you at future risk of suffering worse injuries, which will mess you up.”

  “I know, but…” He clenched his hands, looking exasperated.

  “But what?”

  “We’ve already talked about this, Alison. I don’t have that much
time. The Euro cup means everything for my career, and right now I’m at that moment when one good step can get me a long way, but one wrong step, no matter how minor, can ruin me completely.”

  His anxiety started rubbing off on me. I twisted my fingers in my lap. I had to be patient with him, but he was being unreasonable.

  “I know you want to start playing as soon as possible, but you really need to understand that you can’t do that until you recover. I told you—you’re risking further damage to your knee, so let it go.” This came out sharper than I had intended, and I regretted it almost immediately.

  He frowned and started getting up.

  “Wait, let me help you.” I stood up, darting toward him to offer him support, but he waved his hand in a dismissive way, refusing my help.

  “No. I can do this.” He swayed, but instead of accepting my arm for support, he backed away, glaring at me. “Why are trying to discourage me?”

  Frown lines settled around my mouth and eyes. “Discourage you? I’m not trying to discourage you. Why are you being so stubborn?”

  “I’m being stubborn?”

  “Yes! It’s physically impossible for you to recover that soon. And even if, by some miracle, you recover, you won’t be able to play in the Euro cup. You would need to go through extensive training before that, and you can’t put that much pressure on your knee. You’ll risk a major injury!”

  “I’m risking my career here!” he shouted back. “I’m a captain and I have to play in the Euro cup. If I don’t play, I’ll never become a star player!”

  I threw my arms in the air, failing to see the problem here. “What’s the big deal about the Euro cup?”

  “What’s the big deal?!”

  “Yes. It’s just one competition. I’m sure it won’t make a big difference in your career. You can participate next year.”

  He grabbed his head with both hands, staring at me like he couldn’t believe the words I was saying. “It will make a big difference, and it pisses me off that you don’t understand this. No, you don’t even want to understand this. This year is supposed to be my year! Everything was going so well, and I was offered a huge amount of money if I finished the year in the same way, which, of course, means participating in the Euro cup.”

  He wobbled, pulling further away from me. “I’d have dozens of investors interested in me, which would bring me closer to star status. I’ve been preparing for this for years, and you’re telling me it won’t make a big difference?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Okay. Yes, it’s a big deal. But if you continue insisting on this, you’re really putting yourself at a huge risk. You may not be able to play ever again if you force it and injure your knee.”

  “Well, that’s the risk I’m willing to take, so either you’re with me or not. I don’t want to waste my time here with you if you think this way.”

  His cold words felt like a slap in the face, and a sharp pain hit my chest. I couldn’t believe him! He was acting like a stubborn mule, not even trying to consider what I was saying.

  I crossed my arms over my chest, shaking with anger. “I refuse to participate in something that can potentially hurt you in the end. So if you can’t follow my way of—”

  “Your way?! You’re not my mother! You’re a damn therapist and I’m your client here! So if I want to participate in that competition, there is nothing you can do about it.”

  This was getting uglier by second, and it was too much. I couldn’t believe we would argue about this, hurting because I didn’t want him to be this irresponsible. Yes, I didn’t have any right to force him to anything, nor I had the right to dictate his life, but I cared about him enough not to let him risk his health this way.

  “I wouldn’t even try to stop you from participating. After all, I’m no one to you.” I noticed him wince at “no one”, but I couldn’t stop to reconsider it now. I had a point to prove here. “So, as I said, I refuse to stand on the sidelines and watch you ruin yourself. Since you’re set on doing this, you can leave and never come back.”

  Shit, Alison. You went too far.

  The ice in his gaze doubled my pulse, my limbs growing cold. I didn’t think it through. I didn’t want us to end things between us—whatever that was—this way.

  But, it was too late to take my words back.

  Without a word, he spun on his heel and hobbled out of the room, leaving me frozen in my spot.

  I wasn’t even aware of when I had started crying, my hands shaking like crazy.

  So this was it. I wouldn’t see him again.

  That was okay. I wasn’t in love with him or anything. I would get over it soon. I would go to some club, booze it up, and have the time of my life. I wouldn’t let some guy, who wasn’t even my boyfriend, make me feel like crap. No, sir.

  “Then why do I feel like I want to curl up into a ball and cry my heart out?” I whispered to myself, the whole room blurry because of my tears.

  I couldn’t stop crying long after he was gone.

  7

  I was supposed to end up in a nightclub, drinking myself into oblivion. Instead, I was lying on my couch watching The Notebook. Pathetic.

  I was stuffing myself with caramel popcorn, ignoring the cup of tissues to my left that contained the proof of how screwed-up I was. I missed Liam more than I’d thought was possible.

  I had missed a guy who had never been mine to begin with and who was going to Europe eventually. During the weeks we’d spent together, we never talked about our “relationship”. We never talked about the moment he would leave. It was like we were living in a bubble, all the while knowing it would burst any second. There was no alternative.

  And I was supposed to be smarter than this, but no. I deserved a medal for stupidity. I was supposed to walk away a long time ago, yet I stayed with him and let him get under my skin. It couldn’t get better than this, no.

  I was in the middle of debating with myself about whether I should watch another romance movie next and totally kill my mood or go with the horror when my bell rang. With a frown, I glanced at my phone to check the time. It was past nine. I didn’t order pizza or anything, so I had no clue what this was about.

  I decided to ignore it, but the ringing continued until I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I marched to my door, ready to send the person on the other side to the hell for disturbing me at this time, and jerked the door open…

  “Hey,” Liam said, baffling me. I checked him out before I could think better of it, noticing the same jeans and t-shirt from today. His hands were in his pockets, his head slightly tilted as he looked at me sheepishly.

  My heart, the traitor, commenced its erratic rhythm. “What are you doing here?”

  He didn’t respond immediately, looking at my exposed legs. I was wearing shorts and a mini top, revealing more than enough, and I could see he liked my choice of clothes. I cleared my throat, bringing his attention back to my face.

  “Sorry for coming like this, but… I really wanted to talk with you.”

  “About what?”

  He bit his lip, glancing at his shoes. “Can I come in? It’s kind of hard to say what I want to say here, in the hallway.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “And what do you want to say?”

  He sighed, pinching his brows together. “You don’t want to make this easy for me, do you?” His chuckle was devoid of humor. “I just want to apologize, okay? I want to apologize for my outburst today. I crossed the line.”

  I was tongue-tied, at a complete loss for something appropriate to say. I moved aside to let him in, motioning with my hand at him to enter.

  “Thank you,” he muttered and shambled inside.

  My mind worked against me, reminding me that the last time we were together in my living room, he was eating my pussy right before he made me ride him. I hated how easily he could make me desire him.

  “So you’re admitting you’re being unreasonable,” I stated when he seated himself on my couch. A cringe formed on my face whe
n he looked at the pile of tissues on it, and I marched to them to pick them up, planning to throw them into the trash can right away.

  “Yes,” he answered when I sat down in the armchair across from him. “It wasn’t fair of me to pour out my frustration on you.”

  He seemed sincere, but I didn’t know how to react. I had never thought he would apologize to me. I was sure I wasn’t ever going to see him again.

  “I’m confused, and I don’t know what to do. My coach pressures me to come back as soon as possible, and I hate feeling this powerless. I need to recover as fast as I can, but I’m well aware of the things you’re saying. I’m pushing it too much, and if I keep up like this, I’m going to end in an even bigger trouble and risk my whole career.”

  He leaned his elbows against his knees and lowered his head into his hands. “Soccer is my whole life, and if I can’t play, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  My hand itched to reach out to him and give him any comfort. He looked vulnerable, and it was paining me to see him like this.

  He raised his head to look at me, his eyes teary. “I’m sorry for today. I was a jerk, not even realizing you only wanted to help me, and you have no idea how much I appreciate your effort. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me so far.”

  I had yet to move from my spot, too conflicted. I had grown close to him, despite trying my best not to get attached to him, which proved to be difficult since we were seeing each other every other day. I loved his company. The highlight of my days was the time spent with him.

  I had to be honest with myself. He was all I’d ever wanted. If things were different, I would ask him directly what we were doing. I would ask him to be with me. This way, I was just going with the flow, putting my heart at risk, which was like standing on the rails, waiting for the train to hit me. So, I felt selfish because I didn’t want him to go back to Europe.