20. Zak

Ishift on the couch in Dr. Forest's office, bringing a hand to the back of my neck to rub out the stress knot that's been lodged there since I heard Matt slam the door of my condo on his way out.

Part of me wondered if he'd fight to stay, not that I really left him an opening.

But maybe I hoped he'd open the bathroom door and see me standing against the sink with my head in my hands, full of regret and remorse, not actually in the shower like a guy who wasn't at all affected by what had just happened between us.

Maybe I'd hoped that he'd insist on staying.

But like I said before, Matt is always the calm before every storm.

My heart can't weather another one.

So, I sent him away. And because deep down he knows it, too, he left.

He didn't want me badly enough to stay.

He never did.

I pull at the collar of my shirt. It's fucking hot in here. Beads of sweat pebble my skin as I turn my head to gaze up at the fancy diplomas covering the walls. Harvard undergrad, Columbia grad.

The guy must know what the hell he's doing, right?

Running my hand over the soft, taupe leather of the couch cushion should calm me. The grain is soft and smooth, not pebbly. It's meant to be comforting, I guess, just like the rest of the office. I've heard taupe is supposed to be soothing, but right now, it's making me feel the exact opposite.

I'm edgy and conflicted, and my stomach is in knots.

Dr. Forest smiles at me from his spot in a chair directly across from me. He sits back, his iPad on his lap. "You're uncomfortable."

I lift an eyebrow. "Wow. So, you really did earn all those degrees. Thanks for confirming."

He chuckles and waves a hand at the wall. "Eh, that's just paper. You can only learn so much about the human mind in the classroom. I learn every day by watching and observing. Body language is an extremely powerful indicator of what someone is feeling."

"I don't want to be here." My voice is flat.

You'd never guess from my tone that my whole body is flooded with adrenaline. I tap my foot against the thick carpet and stare at the doctor, my jaw tight.

It's true. I'd rather be in a lot of other places.

I didn't come because of Marc or the team. I'm not afraid of anything that might affect me.

But my head is a mess, and people are being put in danger because of it.

Namely my mother.

"And yet, here you are." Dr. Forest jots something down on his screen and then lays his electronic pencil down. "Your first preseason game is tomorrow. Is it a coincidence that you scheduled your appointment for today?"

With a roll of my eyes, I don't even try to stifle the snort that follows. "Did you really need to spend all that money on education to come up with your question, Doc?"

"Sometimes we need to hear the obvious to connect all of the dots for ourselves." He smiles, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners.

"I'm pretty sure I've connected the dots. I just don't like the picture."

"Talking to me won't make you like the picture, but it may reveal deeper meaning that you might not have thought of before."

"Okay." I recline back against the couch cushion and fold my arms over my chest. "I was bullied in college for being gay. Run off the football team with no backing from any of my teammates."

Or the love of my life, but I keep that part to myself.

"I have major trust issues, can't stand football, blame myself for my father's death, and now I'm stuck with a team he bought for the love of the game, and I have to make it work because of the guilt that eats me alive every day."

"And you keep getting media focus because you're bullying the people you think represent the football players who tormented you in college. The intolerant, ignorant ones who hurt you." Dr. Forest looks at his iPad and back up at me. "You lash out because it makes you feel strong, the opposite of what you were back in college when you allowed those guys to take away everything you'd worked for. You ran away back then and lost everything, so now you feel like you need to stand your ground as a show of strength. You want to be the man you couldn't be back in school."

"Looks like you earned your four-hundred dollars before the hour is even up." I clap my hands slowly, my lips twisting. "I'm pretty self-aware, Doc. I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Then tell me something." Dr. Forest smiles, leaning forward. "Why are you so desperate to prove your strength?"

"Because ignorant people shouldn't be allowed to get away with saying hateful things about my life just because they don't agree with it. And now that I'm in the public eye, people think they can get their moment of fame by trashing me because of the way I live."

"Have you ever found that people attacked you in the past, before you took over the team?"

"No, they didn't care about me when I wasn't the one responsible for their precious Crusaders." I grunt. "Meanwhile, the team sucked until the end of last season, but their last owner, the frigging embezzler, didn't catch a single bit of flack over their record. I walk in and suddenly, I'm casting a rainbow over the whole organization."

"Each time someone has targeted you, you respond with violence." His lips lift into a kind smile. "That's one of the reasons why you're here right now."

"I don't want anyone to see me as being weak."

"Anyone?"

I narrow my eyes, my leg bouncing faster.

"Was someone with you the first time it happened?"

"Someone was there. Tried to make me walk away."

"But you didn't."

I unfold my arms and rake a hand through my hair. "I wanted to stand up for myself and my rights. I didn't want to let them get the last word."

"So, what happened?"

I blow out a frustrated breath, averting my eyes. "I left with him."

"And who is this person to you?"

I swallow hard. Christ, how do I say he's everything and nothing at the same time?

"Is he someone you want to save face with?"

"Yes." I shift on the couch, my gut knotted like a damn lanyard.

Dr. Forest nods again, like he understands. And no fucking way does he understand any of this. He crosses his legs and leans forward onto his iPad. "And who saved you the first time? When you were at the mercy of the team bullies, who helped you then?"

I clench and unclench my fingers. "Nobody."

"So, the hate was spewed, and you were left to deal with it on your own. And now you feel less than because you were pulled out of a situation you feel you should have handled because you fell short the last time in college." Dr. Forest pushes his glasses higher on his nose.

"Zak, tell me this. Deep down, do you think you might have subconsciously wanted to be saved by this person because nobody did it the first time, and you were left vulnerable and at others' mercy?"

My breath catches in my throat. "Maybe."

"And is it possible that you keep creating these situations to test people out, to see if they will stand by your side when you feel so abandoned?"

Fuck me.

Did the doctor just hit the nail on the goddamn head?

Have I done this shit because I need to prove to Matt that I'm still worthy, that even though I'm not the football god the world thought I was, I'm…enough?

Scrubbing a hand down the front of my face, I lean into my hands.

The time with my mom I didn't have Matt with me, but he came to me afterward.

Is all this a fucking cry for affection and attention from the man who broke my heart?

Jesus Christ.

"These aren't necessarily questions you need to answer right now. But they are ones to think about." He picks up his pen and taps it on the side of his iPad. "Strength is acceptance of one's own self, no matter what anyone says or thinks."

My pulse bounces back and forth, slamming against the sides of my throat.

"And did you ever consider the fact that maybe you keep pushing people past their limits of acceptance because you can't accept yourself?"

I just stare at him, my mind still twisted over everything coming out of the doctor's mouth.

"Acceptance isn't dependent on how others see us, Zak. It is dependent on how we see ourselves. But you battle against those who challenge your way of life, your beliefs, and your rights, thinking that gives the appearance of you being strong when really, that strength you seek lies within you."

One question burns up the tip of my tongue.

How can I accept myself if the man I love doesn't?

Because if he did, he'd never have abandoned me in college. He'd have never left my condo the other day. He'd have fought for me…for us.

But he didn't.

And those scars he left run too goddamn deep to ever heal.