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37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Tripp

"How do you feel about the new team? It seems to be going well." My sports psychologist, who sometimes doubles as a therapist, sits across from me.

Her office is minimal. Modern. With light and airy paint colors, soft light, and about five different seating options designed to offer maximum comfort. I've been seeing her since I made the move to New York. She pushes me in the right direction and is always willing to explore other areas outside of football once we've covered all the key topics.

"Winning makes it easier. The game is still fun." I know that's what she's about to ask me next.

"Fulfilling because of the winning or because of something other than that?"

"I feel like I have a place here. I'm not playing because a bunch of guys got hurt but because they want me to. I'm good enough. It also brought me Willow." My cheeks feel hot bringing her up.

"Willow. This sounds like your first adult relationship. How's the balance? How do you feel about that?" she asks. That's all she does, ask questions. I know it's her job but sometimes I wonder how someone can fit so many questions in a fifty-minute session.

"It is. I'm trying to do as much as I can. I do any and all of the bonus training things when we're not together. Some days, I feel like I'm doing something wrong or not committing to an opportunity. But when I'm with Willow, those thoughts are quiet." I rub my hands together, almost too hard. "I think it's going well. I had something happen recently but…"

"You can share it if you'd like."

That's the thing, I'm notorious for letting my mouth run while digging myself a deeper therapy hole.

"We were at this charity event and out of nowhere, I was so jealous. Like, a type of feeling creeping into me that I've not felt in a long time. She was just talking to some guy and I couldn't keep it together."

"What do you mean?"

"I acted like a dick, or a toddler, the whole time it was happening. It felt like I was watching from the outside and I was so fucking embarrassed by how I was acting but I still didn't stop. I made the guy feel uncomfortable. Willow was upset."

"Interesting. Why do you think you couldn't stop?" She shifts in her chair.

"My brain hurts. I don't know why I couldn't. I feel like you might know…" Occasionally, I try to flip the script. It rarely works.

She laughs before crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair.

"Could it be that you're developing feelings? Substantial feelings?"

Of course she would answer with another goddamn question.

"Well, yeah. I am. But I'm not following."

"Tripp, when things feel important to us, we want to do anything we can to protect them. Sometimes, it doesn't make sense. Sometimes, our actions run faster than our brains. Which is already something you struggle with, yes?"

"Yes. I'm an impulsive jackass and sometimes it really bites me. I know I need to keep working on it."

"The only reason I'm pointing this out is because of the way your anxiety and panic attacks have almost completely dissipated since you've started spending time with Willow. This is significant. I don't want you to overlook the importance of that." Her voice is stern and caring at the same time.

She's right. My anxiety has been almost non-existent, and I find I'm naturally in a better mood. It's also helpful being home for back-to-back weeks.

"I wish I could tell you it was going to get easier, but I'm afraid it won't. Things worth keeping are hard work." She gazes at her notebook, flipping back a page. "Did you get to work on your homework from our last session?"

Ah, I was supposed to outline three possible paths for what I do when there is no more football. I only did one of the three.

"Part of it. Sort of. An option would be to find a way to use my college degree, do something with non-profits. I was looking at a few of the non-profits headed up by someone in the Cosmos organization and they have a few that are centered around kids. Giving them access to sports. Safe places to be after school. I think I would be happy doing that."

"One is better than none. I think that's a great start. For next time, let's find the other two ideas and expand on this first one. What are you hoping your day to day looks like? Do you want to stay in this area or move closer to your hometown, or maybe somewhere else completely? Is it just you? Is it you and your mom? Is there someone else with you?"

Yes. Willow.

I nod in agreement. I know our time is ending.

"Now, let's end with your affirmation."

"I am resilient. I am strong. I am here," I say, and I mean it. Those words run through my brain when I'm struggling. No matter how silly I thought it was when she first asked me to repeat after her.

I walk into my apartment and it feels like I'm in the wrong one. Music blasts through the house and it smells fucking delicious. Someone is cooking.

I walk into the kitchen to see Willow dancing at the stove. I don't think she heard me come in.

"Boo!" I yell when she's nowhere near the hot pan.

"AH!" she screams and steps back a bit before busting out laughing. "Don't do that!"

"How was shopping?" I ask her, knowing she had a date with my mom today.

"It was fun! I also went to knitting club. I'm not very good at it but it's awfully soothing." She laughs and points to a ball of yarn on the coffee table in the living room.

Mom has made her stance on Willow clear. She loves her. Like, can't get enough of her. I know they've gotten lunch a few times plus this shopping adventure. It's the sweetest fucking thing.

"What's going on in here?" I step closer to the stove to see a pan of shrimp and scallops. My mouth waters at the garlicky smell.

"You mentioned you were craving seafood, and I felt like cooking. I hope it's okay I took over your kitchen."

"You're always welcome to cook in here. Especially anything that smells this good." I waft the steam from the pan and breathe in. On the counter is a salad and a bowl of something that looks like rice.

"It's orzo. A little butter and parmesan cheese. Matches perfectly with the shrimp and scallops," she says like she's reading my mind.

I stand behind her, lean my head down into the crook of her neck, and wrap her up as she continues to cook. I soak in the sound of the pan, the music, and the bustling of Willow cooking me dinner.

We're about to kick off. I know this game will be a grind and we're not favored to win. Technically, we're predicted to get our asses handed to us. Nothing like a little extra fuel for the guys.

It's the end of September and the air is cooler with the promise of fall. The Jumbotron starts showing celebrities and other athletes in attendance. I jump around a bit, keeping my muscles loose. And then the crowd is cheering. Loud.

I look up to see Willow. Wearing my jersey. It's not just a Cosmos blue top, it's my number on the front. She's in the suite, and I can see my mom clapping as Willow waves and then covers her eyes like she's embarrassed.

I can't help but smile.

Some of the other guys give me fist bumps, hit my helmet, and it's like the energy has kicked up a notch.

Zack claps me on the back. "Tripp, we gotta go off on these guys today. Your girl's wearing your jersey. Doesn't get better than that."

"Let's fucking go."

The game wasn't even close. The opposing team's quarterback threw four interceptions in the first half and got benched, while my quarterback was on fire. Coach even let us call a trick play which set our quarterback up for a 52 yard touchdown pass, caught by yours truly.

We're undefeated. Fuck, it feels good. I'm wrapping up with a press conference before getting back to Willow .

"Tripp, looks like you caught a glimpse of Willow before kick-off. They showed it on the broadcast. Anything you want to share?"

I always underestimate how much people care about this. Not surprising that they tried to get a shot of me when they were showing her. Smart.

"Just that she looks damn good in Cosmos blue."

Reporters laugh and I know I've given them enough.

I walk out to Willow and my mom. Willow is easy to spot in my jersey, gray tights, black skirt, and thigh-high boots.

"Where did you get this?" I ask, pointing to her outfit.

"Your mom and I went shopping this week. I wanted it to be a surprise."

I pull her into my chest and kiss the top of her forehead.

"Definitely surprised."

"Tripp! Look. You're going viral." My mom shows a video on her phone. It's me when I see Willow, what the reporter was alluding to. The video is on a social media app and already has millions of likes and hundreds of thousands of comments.

Willow's phone dings. She takes it out of her pocket and furrows her eyebrows, before rolling her eyes.

"Everything good?" I ask.

She changes her face and forces a smile.

"Yes, all good. Nothing important."

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