The Broken Road to Forever

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The Broken Road to Forever Page 12

by Rhonda Dennis


  Think logically. He’ll be in the emergency room, so emergency waiting is a good place to start. A security guard points me in the right direction, his face sympathetic as he stares down at my BCU t-shirt. “Tough loss for your school today,” he says, slowly shaking his head.

  “Loss?” My stomach drops to my feet.

  “The game. It’s always tough to lose, especially a homecoming game. It’s understandable though. None of the team wanted to play after Brent Grayson’s injury.”

  “Do you know how he’s doing?”

  “Sorry, I don’t, but you can join your friends if you’d like.”

  “My friends?”

  “Sure. Come on. Time for my rounds anyway. You must have come through the main entrance if you missed that crowd in the ER waiting room. Follow me.”

  Instead of simply following him, I sort of hide behind the towering man, sneaking a peek around him every once in a while. I hear the group before I see them, and I grow frightened. I don’t feel as though I have any actual right to be here. They are his teammates, his friends, his coaches, his people. How is it possible for me to be his everything and his nothing at the same time?

  A mass of concerned individuals gathers in the area, leaving no empty seats or even standing room. I thank the guard for his help, and he gives a curt nod before loudly asking the crowd, “Please, simmer down and keep the volume to a hospital appropriate level.” It’s quiet for about ten seconds after he leaves, and the rumble begins again. Scanning the room, I find a darkened, silk-plant-filled corner near the nurses’ station, and I sink into it. My time is spent listening for any information about Brent, and it finally comes once my fingernails are gnawed to nubs.

  “He’s in pain because his leg is broken, but he’s okay. I want you all to know that we appreciate your support during this difficult time. Brent’s going to work hard, and he’ll be back on that field before you know it!” Brent’s father’s speech is interrupted by a brief cheer from the group. “I’m afraid visiting him won’t be an option tonight, but he welcomes any and all visitors starting tomorrow afternoon. They are currently transferring him to Room 608, so that’s where you’ll find him when you come back. Thanks again for supporting my boy. Never fear, he’ll be back better than ever. Graysons never quit and always overcome!”

  “Charming man,” I hear a nurse mumble in a sarcastic tone under her breath to another nurse.

  “Just be glad you’re not the floor nurse who will have to deal with that guy.”

  “Yes!” she says, and they share a giggle before heading off in different directions. I lean forward to peer from behind my private jungle and notice Brent’s dad in deep discussions with several of the university administrators and coaching staff. Room 608? I make a mad dash for the closest elevator. I have to see him for myself, even if it’s just a quick peek. I’ll never get in once the crowd gets permission to visit, so it’s now or nothing.

  Absolutely convinced I’ll lose my nerve if I do it any other way, I barrel into his room and quickly latch the door behind me. I’m still pressed against the back of the cool wood when I hear him groaning. “No more. Please.”

  His voice is so weak and frail that tears instantly well in my eyes. “Brent,” I say, stepping towards the rail of his bed. It takes all I have not to gasp when I see him looking defenseless and scared. Never in my life have I seen fear in Brent’s eyes, but tonight, I stare into a sea of uncertainty and desperation.

  “Mallory,” he barely whispers. “I’m so sorry.” I rush to his side and reach my hand out to stroke his hair.

  “What could you possibly have to be sorry about?”

  “Everything is ruined. I blew our future.”

  “Please, don’t talk like that.”

  “That guy you were with. Do you love him?”

  I’m taken aback by his question. “What are you talking about? There is only one man in my life.”

  “The guy you were with at the game. I could see you two from the sidelines. He…”

  “He is Howard, as in Nate’s cousin Howard.”

  “You’re dating Howard?” he asks with a grimace.

  I give a soft smile. “Of course not.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Nothing about any of this has been fair for you.”

  “No one has forced me to want a future with you. Remember? The big picture is where my focus is and always has been.”

  He turns away. “There is no future anymore.”

  “Don’t talk that way, Brent.” I move to the other side of the bed, but he looks away again.

  “My football career is over.”

  “The hell it is, and what are you doing in here? Stalker fans are the last people my son should be bothered with right now. Someone from the security department is going to be fired.” Brent’s father stares directly at me, his beady eyes brimming with disgust. “Look here. I know I’ve seen you before, but I can’t remember where. It’s cute that you idolize my boy, but you need to back the hell off because you’re bad for his image.” He whips out a wallet and starts ticking off hundred dollar bills with his finger. “How much will it take for you to admire this guy from afar?”

  My stomach turns. “I…” Why can’t I be sharp-tongued and quick-witted? Like the scared little mouse that I am, I slowly step backwards hoping the darkness of the corner will render me invisible. It’s never worked before. I’m not sure why I continue to do it.

  “Now don’t shy away. A fatty college kid, obviously strapped for money judging from that outfit, come on. Give me a number. What’s it going to take to keep you away from him? I’ll even get him to throw in a signed football. Will that sweeten the pot?”

  “Leave her alone.” Brent’s once weak voice sounds a bit stronger.

  “Don’t you worry, son. I’ve got this handled. Come on. Give me a number. Quit cowering in the corner over there.”

  “I love her.” Brent’s voice is full-on confident. His father whips his head around to glare in his direction.

  “What did you say?”

  “Her name is Mallory, and I love her. I had a crush on her in kindergarten, and I fell in love with her in high school.”

  His dad guffaws. “Ah, you had me going good son. It must be the drugs they gave you for the pain. I know better because we’ve talked women, boy. You like them hot, tight, and limber.” He jerks his finger in my direction. “The only thing tight on this one is maybe her clothes.”

  “Shut up! I told you to stop, and I mean it. I’m going to marry her.”

  His father sets his jaw, angrily glaring between Brent and me. Brent’s anger easily matches his dad’s, and I’m at a loss for what to do. My heart pounds in my chest, and my palms grow sweaty. I want to run, yet my feet remain fixed.

  “You’re the girl I caught him screwing in the locker room.” He snaps his wallet closed, shoves it back into his pocket, and strides towards me with his finger extended. “Let me tell you something, missy,” he snarls as beads of spittle splash across my face, but I’m too scared to breathe, much less move to wipe them away. “You’re going to stay the hell away from him, and you’re going to do it because I fucking said so. You do NOT want to push me on this.”

  “Get away from her!” Brent yells.

  “Shut up!” his father warns.

  “He is going to forget about you, and you are going to forget about him. He is going to be operated on by a top surgeon, he is going to have the best rehab money has to offer, and then he is going to get back on that football field and finish the season strong. He’s going to then go to law school. After his practice is established, he’s going to run for a political office, and his life is going to be the life of a champion. YOU have no place in that life.” He whips back around to face Brent. “She will not be a part of that life. Understand?”

  “Get out,” Brent says. His father’s smile beams broadly.

  “Phew, you had me scared for a minute, son. Glad you came to your senses. Go on. Get out. Whatever make believe
story you have in your mind about a pauper winding up with royalty is over. Nothing but the best for my boy.”

  “No, YOU get out.”

  His father’s puts his face inches from Brent’s. “What did you say? I hope you don’t think that being in this bed will stop me from putting my foot up your ass. How dare you…”

  “The doctor said my football career is over. Done. I can’t play again.”

  “That asshole doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I found a surgeon in…”

  “No.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He gives Brent a curt slap on the cheek. “Snap out of it.” He gives him another slap. “Mouth off to me one more time…” He moves his hand to give another slap, but this time Brent grips his fingers before the older man can make contact.

  “It’s over.” The scorn starts to leave Mr. Grayson’s face as he shifts his body to stand at his full height.

  “Yes. Yes, it is. You want to throw your life away for a piece of ass that isn’t even fit to charge on a street corner, then you just fucking go for it. Let’s see how your life turns out. You’ve made your choice, and now you’re going to have to live with it. I wash my hands of you. You’re dead to me. I have no son. You’re cut off immediately. I hope you listened when I told you to stash money for a rainy day because here comes a fucking monsoon.” Turning on his heel, Mr. Grayson makes to leave, stopping long enough to snarl one last comment. “You not only disappoint me, but you disgust me.” He slams the door behind him.

  Still stunned, I slowly creep towards Brent’s bed. “I can stop him. You can apologize.”

  “What! Have you lost your mind?” Brent snaps.

  “Brent, you can’t. I can’t let you throw away your life for me. No. He’s right. You have such a brilliant future ahead of you, but only if I’m not a part of it right now. Let me go catch him.”

  “Did you not hear me?” He grimaces as he adjusts himself in the bed. “I just confessed everything to him, and you want me to take it back? Did you hear how he talked to me? How he talked about you? And you want me to apologize to HIM? I refuse to live my life under his control anymore. This injury is my blessing in disguise. He’s lost his power over me.”

  “He says you’re cut off. You’re used to having money, Brent. It sucks to struggle. Maybe you should take at least a day to think it over.”

  “I don’t want to think it over. I want to be with you. No more football, no more political aspirations. I want to graduate with my pre-law degree, then I’ll get a job and work to pay for law school. We’ll be set, Mallory. The worst of this is over. Our life together starts today.”

  I touch his reddened cheek. “Brent, as much as I love hearing those words, your dad is right. We come from, and live in, two different worlds. Our original plan was better because you would’ve been established when we finally get together, and you’d never have to sacrifice…”

  “Never have to sacrifice? All I do is sacrifice! I sacrifice my time, my body, my love… I want to be with you. I have enough money saved to get us through a couple of years at least. Marry me. The day I get released, let’s do it. Please, Mallory.”

  As excited as I am, I work very hard to keep it at bay. Every ounce of my being wants to scream and yell from the rooftops that I’m going to be Mrs. Brent Grayson, but he’s seriously injured, drugged, and riding an emotional rollercoaster. I can’t agree to his plan, no matter how desperately I want to do so.

  “Brent, I think you should take some time and really think this over. This will change everything, and I couldn’t live with myself knowing you’ve thrown away your entire future because you said some things you normally wouldn’t because of this situation.” He tries to interrupt, but I stop him. “Please, just take a little more time to think it over. Please.”

  He sighs. “If that’s what you want. My mind won’t change, though.”

  “It’s okay if it does. I want what’s best for you, always.”

  “You’re what’s best for me. I should have been brave enough to say it out loud long ago. Will you sit with me for a little while?” He holds out his hand, and with a smile, I take it in mine.

  “Of course I will.” Once I’m seated, I kiss his fingertips. “What did the doctor say?”

  “I’m messed up. My back, my knee, pretty much my whole left side.”

  “How long do you have to stay here?”

  “I’ll have surgery tomorrow, then a few days after that, I’ll still be here for sure.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “As long as you’re here, I have all I need.” He yawns, keeping his eyes closed. His breathing becomes slow and rhythmic, and his grip on my hand slackens. Will he still talk marriage in the morning? If he does, what do I say? What do I do? There’s so much riding on this decision. If this is adulthood, I’m not ready for it. I watch the hours tick by on the clock, and when the day breaks, I’m still no closer to an answer. Unable to keep my eyes open any longer, I rest my head on Brent’s mattress and fall asleep listening to his breathing.

  TWELVE

  The acrid scent of disinfectant lingers in the air, and it’s the first thing that registers when my eyes fly open. The next thing I notice is the soothing feeling of my hair being stroked, so instead of jumping upright, I relish the sensation for a few moments before finally lifting my tight, aching body. I’m met with a warm smile from Brent.

  “I can’t believe you stayed here all night.”

  “Where else would I be?” I return his smile before kneading at a kink in my neck with one hand and taking hold of Brent’s hand with the other.

  “How sore are you?”

  “A lot less than you are, I’m sure.” Focusing on our entwined fingers, I feel bashful. We’re in public. Of course there are no witnesses in Brent’s hospital room, but still, anyone could walk in at any moment. Also, the shock of Brent standing up to his dad still hasn’t worn off. I’ve often prayed that the very events that took place last night would eventually happen, and though I longed for it, it’s awkward. The poor, geeky big girl never gets the guy, right? Yet, here I am, Brent’s. Was it the intense pain? The potent drugs? Will he come to his senses and take it all back? Quit it! Stop thinking the worst and move onto something else. I shake off my thoughts. “No more worrying about me. How are you feeling?”

  “Great considering. The pain meds are so good.” Shit, it’s the meds. As soon as he’s off of them, back to reality.

  “Why do you look like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you’re taking a final exam.”

  “I think you’re going to regret everything you said to your dad once the drugs wear off.”

  With a small chuckle he tugs at my hand. “Come here.”

  “What?” I ask. “You can just say it if you’ve come to your senses. I can handle it.”

  “Stop worrying. I’m very cognizant of everything I said to my father, and I stand by my decision. I want you to come here because I need a kiss.”

  “What? Here? Now?”

  “Yes, and yes.”

  I lightly press my lips to his, and he palms the back of my head to draw me closer. I melt into him.

  A light rap at the door leaves me frustrated, and from the sigh I feel against my lips, Brent feels the same. A smiling nurse enters the room. “Excuse me, Mr. Grayson, but I need to get you prepped for surgery.”

  I fall back into my chair. In the Brent-induced haze of love and fairy-tale promises, I’ve completely forgotten that he’s going to surgery. He’s about to be wheeled down, and we haven’t spoken about anything yet!

  “How long before they come to get me?” he directs to the nurse who is adding a fresh bag to his IV.

  “About thirty minutes.” She gives a reassuring wink.

  “Hey, you with the worry all over your face.” I turn my eyes towards Brent. He looks so assured and confident; I wish I had half of his courage. “Why don’t you grab yourself a coffee while we get this out of the w
ay, but you better come back. I want to talk to you before I go down.”

  It’s my turn to smile. “Of course.”

  The nurse silently passes me to wrap a blood pressure cuff around Brent’s bicep. “I won’t be too long in here.” She gives me a knowing look that causes me to flush.

  Hurrying from the room, I navigate the winding corridors while following the signs guiding me along the way. I spot the coffee shop, but pause just before entering. A payphone on the wall reminds me that I should probably call Iris. In all the years we’ve shared a dorm room, I’ve never stayed out all night. She’ll be worried. I dig my hand into my jeans pocket to fish out a quarter from some loose change. After dialing the number, I tap my fingers on the wall while anxiously waiting for her to pick up.

  “Hello, this better be Mallory!”

  “Yes, it’s me. I’m so sorry…”

  I don’t get to finish my apology because Iris interrupts. “Mallory James, I’ve been worried sick. I’ve not slept a wink. Do you know how detrimental lack of sleep can be for a human? Where have you been? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m at the hospital…”

  “What?” Iris shrieks.

  “No, I’m not hurt. I’m here with Brent, and it’s really bad, Iris. The doctors say he won’t play football again. He’s having surgery today, too.” My eyes begin to water, so I turn towards the wall.

  “You’ve been at the hospital all night?”

  “Yes. Oh, Iris, everything’s a mess. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “What do you mean, Mal?”

  “Last night, Brent’s dad found me in his room, and he was beyond furious. He said a lot of really nasty things to me, and Brent snapped— like completely lost it and confessed his feelings for me. He said he wants to marry me. Out loud. That’s when his dad disowned him.”

 

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