It just wasn’t fair.
I sighed, looking around at the empty waiting room, and then steeled myself to go back inside and deal with Lance. I couldn’t avoid him forever. Even if he didn’t want to talk to me right now, I was still in charge of his physical health and I had a job to do.
I took a deep breath and knocked twice before opening the door to Lance’s room. No response. I went inside and shut the door behind me.
Lance was still lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. I couldn’t read him from the half of his face that I could see, but I knew right away, just by the way the air seemed to hang in the room, that he wasn’t thrilled to be there, and that his visitors hadn’t really done very much to un-sour his mood.
“I’m just coming back in to check on you,” I said, out loud but not directed at Lance. I just wanted to go about my business while he thought things through - he clearly didn’t want to talk.
I busied myself with checking the readings and instruments at the side of his bed, fluffing up the pillows and making sure that everything was stocked.
Lance was completely silent. One time I thought I saw his eyes following me around the room, but he never spoke.
Finally, and stubbornly, I broke the silence, unable to hold my tongue any longer. “You know, Lance Parker, it could have been much worse.”
His eyes snapped to me, and Lance glared at me. “How could it have been any worse?”
“You can still play this year, if everything goes well. And you should be fine for next season.”
Lance groaned out loud. “I don’t think you understand, Charlotte.”
I crossed my arms under my chest and leaned back against the counter on the opposite wall. “Then explain it to me, Lance, don’t keep me in the dark for no reason.”
Lance sighed and closed his eyes. “Every game I lose is a chance for Oliver Lee to take my job from me permanently. If I don’t get back out on the field quickly, there’ll be no reason for the team to keep me.”
“But you’re better than Oliver Lee.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“So the team will welcome you back when you’re healthy.”
“Lee’s contract is even cheaper than mine, Charlotte, and he’s got a couple more years on his deal.” He looked exasperated. “Most people think professional football is all about winning championships. It is, of course, but there’s a business underneath it all. And business is about finding the most efficient way to do well.”
“I get all that. So you need to get back on the field quick?”
“Yes, exactly. And in a few weeks if Oliver wins a few games, they won’t think twice about keeping him on as the starter even if I come back better than ever.”
I stepped closer, closing the distance between us, I stopped at the foot of his bed, resting my hands on the cold railing and wrapping my fingers around it. “What’re you going to do next, then?”
Lance looked down and dropped his hand on his right thigh, grimacing as pain clearly shot up his leg. “Whatever it takes to come back from this as quickly as I can, what other choice do I have?”
I didn’t even make an attempt to hide the hope in my voice. “Can I help?” My voice was soft, a plaintive question that hung in the air of the room.
Lance closed his eyes again, then opened them. “No, Charlotte, you can’t.”
“But…”
He cut me off. “I got into this mess by not listening to you. Or maybe listening to you too much, and now I’m gonna have to get myself out of it.”
I had no idea how to take that. I wanted to just leave the room and leave Lance alone for a little while, let him collect himself.
Without another word, I went to the door and opened it, but turned back toward the bed just before I went through.
“Are you…are you firing me?”
Lance still stared at the ceiling. “No, I’m not. Not yet.”
I left the room, unable to say another word.
‘Not yet.’ What the hell did that mean?
CHAPTER 09 - LANCE
A couple weeks passed and I didn’t see much of Charlotte. She came in the room a couple times a day to make sure everything was alright, but we didn’t speak much, and I liked it that way.
Let’s be a little more clear - I hated it that way. Every time I saw her my heart broke into smaller and smaller pieces and I wanted to jump out of bed and take her into my arms.
But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do anything to help her, to make this easier. Mainly because I couldn’t do anything for myself and it frustrated me to no end.
To Charlotte’s credit she took it like a champ, never complaining or getting mad at me. I knew I was being a bastard but I didn’t know any other way to act. The most important thing for me was to get better and get back on the field, and I didn’t have the space for anything else.