Rushing the Goal
Page 72
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“When I was a kid, I met Ava Donaldson,” he said, his lips turning up at her name. “She was this gorgeous blonde who stole my breath and made me feel things I had never felt before. We got pregnant as teenagers, and I married her two days after we graduated high school. We were both newly eighteen, with a baby, but I loved her more than anything in this world. And I loved our baby, Leary,” he said softly, and Lucy’s eyes widened as she watched him.
“Wait, you’re married?”
He shook his head. “No, not anymore.”
Her face was full of misunderstanding as she held his gaze. “You’ve never spoken of them.”
“Yeah, because I’m ashamed.”
Her brows rose. “Oh.”
“Yeah, so…” he said, clearing the emotion from his throat. “I got drafted quick, promised her I would give her the life she wanted, and I did, moneywise, but I wasn’t there for her. I was running with my boys, drinking, having fun. I never cheated on her—that’s one thing I can be proud of, I never ever broke her heart that way—but I did break her heart with the drinking.”
“Oh, Benji,” she whispered, holding his hands with both of hers.
“She threatened to leave me so many times. I somehow convinced her not to, throwing out that Leary didn’t need to grow up without a father, in a broken home. She came from one and I used that to keep her. I wish I had let her go, though. Maybe things would have ended differently,” he said, the guilt eating him alive. He had never admitted that part to anyone. Not even to the group, but for some reason, he told Lucy. Because it was true. Man, how he wished he would have let Ava leave him. “I needed her. I loved her, and I promised and promised that I would change. I never did, though.”
Clearing his throat, he looked up, seeing that she was watching him, uneasiness all over her sweet face. It killed him; he didn’t want her to worry about him. To feel sorry for him. He did this all himself. He broke Ava’s heart. It was his fault, his burden, not Lucy’s. He shouldn’t have said anything, but when she lifted their hands out of the water, kissing his knuckles, her eyes urged him on and he couldn’t hold back.
He owed it to Ava and to Leary, to be honest.
“What happened then?”
“I talked her into a trip home, to Chicago, where we were both from. She didn’t like going home—she didn’t like my family much. Well, my brother, she didn’t mind, but my mom told everyone she was the whore who ruined my life,” he said and Lucy scoffed.
“Rick’s mom still says that about me,” she said with a shake of her head.
“Yeah, well, Ava didn’t take kindly to it and never wanted to go home. But I convinced her to because my family was having a family reunion and I wanted to go. My family knew about my drinking problem, but they were all drunks, so they fed into it,” he said, complete disgust in his voice. “I got fucking trashed. Crazy drunk, drunkest I’ve ever been. I remember Ava saying we needed to go because Leary was tired. I couldn’t drive, and Ava didn’t know how to get back to the hotel. This was before there was GPS on our phones,” he said, and she nodded as his throat closed with emotion. “I got in the backseat, with Leary in her car seat, and she said, ‘Daddy, hold my hand.’ She was so cute,” he said, his voice breaking, and he had to look away, his eyes filling with tears. He could still hear her voice. The sweet lisp of her little voice, still trying to get her words right. She knew “Daddy,” though. She had that one down, and man, he loved that baby. He loved her more than he could love himself.
He still loved them.
Always would.
Clearing his throat, begging himself not to break down in front of Lucy, he went on. “My younger brother Silas offered to drive us back, so he got into the driver’s seat. By the time we took off, I was passed out, my hand in Leary’s. But when I woke up, I was in the hospital and they explained to me that I was the only one who survived a crash with a semi.”
Lucy’s hands dropped his, covering her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. He had to look away again, swallowing hard. “Leary and Silas died on impact, they were hit first. But Ava wasn’t so lucky. A piece of glass slashed her throat and she bled out slowly, and I did nothing. I was passed out drunk, and I still hate that I couldn’t save her. That I was so fucked up, I couldn’t be there for my wife. Once again.”
Shaking his head, the tears threatened to fall as his jaw clenched and he was unable to look at Lucy. “I buried my brother on a Tuesday, my wife and my daughter on a Wednesday. All closed caskets because they were all so fucked up, and all I had was a stupid fucking broken arm.”
“Benji, oh my goodness, Benji,” she cried, her voice full of sorrow as she crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He wasn’t done, though. Tightening his arms around her, he pressed his head into her shoulder as his own shoulders started to shake, and he whispered in a tear-filled voice, “I lived, while they didn’t. My family, her family, all hate me. I haven’t really talked to them since the day of the funeral. I was alone, empty inside. So it’s easy to say I went off the deep end.” As he sucked in a breath, those months of hopeless bewilderment flashed through his mind. “I drank until I couldn’t drink anymore. I got into fights. I fucked anything with tits. I was a poor excuse for a person. And one night, after a nasty fight in a bar, they threw me out the back, my face hitting the curb. God, it sucked. I rolled over, and when I sat up and I looked around, I saw this mirror. The person looking back at me, I didn’t even know. I was disgusting. I didn’t even remember the last time I’d showered. I wanted to die. There was even a piece of glass lying there, and I almost just ended it, I did. But then she was there, in the mirror. Ava. She was disgusted—who could blame her? She just shook her head, saying this wasn’t the man she loved, and she was right. I wasn’t that fresh-faced teenager; that kid was gone. All that was left was shit.”
“Wait, you’re married?”
He shook his head. “No, not anymore.”
Her face was full of misunderstanding as she held his gaze. “You’ve never spoken of them.”
“Yeah, because I’m ashamed.”
Her brows rose. “Oh.”
“Yeah, so…” he said, clearing the emotion from his throat. “I got drafted quick, promised her I would give her the life she wanted, and I did, moneywise, but I wasn’t there for her. I was running with my boys, drinking, having fun. I never cheated on her—that’s one thing I can be proud of, I never ever broke her heart that way—but I did break her heart with the drinking.”
“Oh, Benji,” she whispered, holding his hands with both of hers.
“She threatened to leave me so many times. I somehow convinced her not to, throwing out that Leary didn’t need to grow up without a father, in a broken home. She came from one and I used that to keep her. I wish I had let her go, though. Maybe things would have ended differently,” he said, the guilt eating him alive. He had never admitted that part to anyone. Not even to the group, but for some reason, he told Lucy. Because it was true. Man, how he wished he would have let Ava leave him. “I needed her. I loved her, and I promised and promised that I would change. I never did, though.”
Clearing his throat, he looked up, seeing that she was watching him, uneasiness all over her sweet face. It killed him; he didn’t want her to worry about him. To feel sorry for him. He did this all himself. He broke Ava’s heart. It was his fault, his burden, not Lucy’s. He shouldn’t have said anything, but when she lifted their hands out of the water, kissing his knuckles, her eyes urged him on and he couldn’t hold back.
He owed it to Ava and to Leary, to be honest.
“What happened then?”
“I talked her into a trip home, to Chicago, where we were both from. She didn’t like going home—she didn’t like my family much. Well, my brother, she didn’t mind, but my mom told everyone she was the whore who ruined my life,” he said and Lucy scoffed.
“Rick’s mom still says that about me,” she said with a shake of her head.
“Yeah, well, Ava didn’t take kindly to it and never wanted to go home. But I convinced her to because my family was having a family reunion and I wanted to go. My family knew about my drinking problem, but they were all drunks, so they fed into it,” he said, complete disgust in his voice. “I got fucking trashed. Crazy drunk, drunkest I’ve ever been. I remember Ava saying we needed to go because Leary was tired. I couldn’t drive, and Ava didn’t know how to get back to the hotel. This was before there was GPS on our phones,” he said, and she nodded as his throat closed with emotion. “I got in the backseat, with Leary in her car seat, and she said, ‘Daddy, hold my hand.’ She was so cute,” he said, his voice breaking, and he had to look away, his eyes filling with tears. He could still hear her voice. The sweet lisp of her little voice, still trying to get her words right. She knew “Daddy,” though. She had that one down, and man, he loved that baby. He loved her more than he could love himself.
He still loved them.
Always would.
Clearing his throat, begging himself not to break down in front of Lucy, he went on. “My younger brother Silas offered to drive us back, so he got into the driver’s seat. By the time we took off, I was passed out, my hand in Leary’s. But when I woke up, I was in the hospital and they explained to me that I was the only one who survived a crash with a semi.”
Lucy’s hands dropped his, covering her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. He had to look away again, swallowing hard. “Leary and Silas died on impact, they were hit first. But Ava wasn’t so lucky. A piece of glass slashed her throat and she bled out slowly, and I did nothing. I was passed out drunk, and I still hate that I couldn’t save her. That I was so fucked up, I couldn’t be there for my wife. Once again.”
Shaking his head, the tears threatened to fall as his jaw clenched and he was unable to look at Lucy. “I buried my brother on a Tuesday, my wife and my daughter on a Wednesday. All closed caskets because they were all so fucked up, and all I had was a stupid fucking broken arm.”
“Benji, oh my goodness, Benji,” she cried, her voice full of sorrow as she crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He wasn’t done, though. Tightening his arms around her, he pressed his head into her shoulder as his own shoulders started to shake, and he whispered in a tear-filled voice, “I lived, while they didn’t. My family, her family, all hate me. I haven’t really talked to them since the day of the funeral. I was alone, empty inside. So it’s easy to say I went off the deep end.” As he sucked in a breath, those months of hopeless bewilderment flashed through his mind. “I drank until I couldn’t drink anymore. I got into fights. I fucked anything with tits. I was a poor excuse for a person. And one night, after a nasty fight in a bar, they threw me out the back, my face hitting the curb. God, it sucked. I rolled over, and when I sat up and I looked around, I saw this mirror. The person looking back at me, I didn’t even know. I was disgusting. I didn’t even remember the last time I’d showered. I wanted to die. There was even a piece of glass lying there, and I almost just ended it, I did. But then she was there, in the mirror. Ava. She was disgusted—who could blame her? She just shook her head, saying this wasn’t the man she loved, and she was right. I wasn’t that fresh-faced teenager; that kid was gone. All that was left was shit.”
