Wildflowers and Wide Receivers

6. Jonah

Chapter 6

Jonah

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about walking into Sophie’s office today.

I’ve spent so much time thinking about her over the past couple of years, and now that she’s here and about to be in front of me, I’m not sure what to do or say.

Well, that’s not true. I know I need to start with an apology.

For six weeks, I’ve been scripting conversations in my head. They’ve covered a full spectrum from completely avoiding what happened two years ago and hoping the chemistry we shared is enough to move us forward to some semblance of something to full-on begging for forgiveness.

After our night together, she went out on a limb the following morning and invited me back over later that day for dinner. We planned to watch the college bowl games and eat black-eyed peas and collard greens for good luck and prosperity. I was so excited too. Just the thought of her cleaning up her place, making food, and then having me stand her up still makes me want to wither inside myself.

Then again, I just don’t know. There’s also the real possibility that she really didn’t care all that much that I missed our date. I may have been way more into her than she was me. But regardless, I still think some things need to be said.

Except . . . when she walks into our room, I can’t find the words.

I heard her come down the hall before I even saw her. The click of her heels got louder the closer she came to the door, and with her stride, my heart pounded in my chest. When she opened the door, walked into the room, and her eyes found mine, I felt my heart fall to my feet.

Damn, she is so beautiful.

For ten solid minutes, she talked to Vivi, examining her ankle, reviewing the new films the radiologist person took before she came to see us, and watching her walk on it. With my short answers and grunting in agreement as she spoke, one would think that I was illiterate, but I just couldn’t get my tongue to work with my brain.

Six weeks.

I’ve been counting down to this day again for six weeks, and as the seconds tick by, I know I’m about to lose the opportunity, but I can’t stop staring at her.

Her hair is longer than when we met two years ago. That night it was shoulder length and now it’s a little past her shoulders. It’s still the same gorgeous blond color, and her eyes are just as blue as I remember them. She’s wearing a dark purple dress under her white coat and nude-colored heels. Her hands, which have been all over Vivi’s ankle, are not adorned with jewelry, but her nails are painted a light pink, and my mind drifts back to what those fingers felt like buried in my hair as she kissed me.

I haven’t been with anyone since her.

It’s not like I haven’t had opportunities. Quite a few of the women at Vivi’s school have made it known there are options, but that’s just not my thing. Plus, I haven’t really had time. My life revolves around Vivi and football. I’m not complaining, it is what it is.

“Okay! I think you’re good to go. It may be a little stiff for the first couple of days, but I’m confident with some stretching and the routine exercising I know ballet is known for, you’ll be as good as new in no time.” She smiles at Vivi, and Vivi smiles back.

It’s so rare to see her smile that I instantly whip my phone out.

“We need a celebratory photo. Vivi, hold up the boot, and you two smile,” I say to them, sounding like a lunatic.

Sophie looks at me strangely, but she steps next to Vivi, and they both smile as I take the photo.

“All right, then,” Sophie says, as she glances at Vivi and then turns to me. “Like I mentioned before, if anything changes or if she feels any discomfort past what you think is normal, just give the office a call.”

“Will do,” I say, standing. This move makes me much taller than her, and she has to look up. “Ryan from the team said he would help her, too.”

She gives me another small smile. “It wouldn’t hurt, and I firmly believe in never turning down free healthcare, therapy included.”

I smile back at her, and the heaviness of this goodbye moment weighs me down.

“Well, it was nice to see you both. Take care of yourself, Vivi,” she says, looking at her and gathering her iPad. “No more falling,” she teases as she reaches for the door and opens it.

My heart rate picks up to a gallop.

Our time is over.

“No more falling,” Vivi repeats, pushing the boot aside and putting on her regular shoes.

This is it.

Sophie’s eyes flick to mine and hold for a long second just before she walks out the door.

“Actually, Sophie”—I clear my throat and move to the doorway—“do you mind speaking with me for a moment?”

She stops in the hallway and pauses before she turns to look back at me. Her eyes flick down to Vivi before rising back to mine.

“Sure. Vivi, why don’t you head up to the checkout counter? I know there is some candy, and then you can wait for your uncle in the lobby.”

Uncle.

So she knows.

Of course she does. She probably did last time, too. Everyone knows about John’s death and Vivi coming to live with me.

“Okay. But just this once. Dancers don’t eat candy,” Vivi says as she turns to go to the lobby.

Sophie chuckles. “Got your hands full there, I see,” she tosses over her shoulder as she looks at me and proceeds down the hall.

“You have no idea,” I mumble behind her as I follow.

“How did she really do in the boot?” she asks as we enter an office. Her office.

“Well, it didn’t deter her.” A small smile escapes me. “She still went to her dance classes. Turns out there’s a lot she could still do, so she was happy.”

“Wow. Most kids rejoice when they get to take time off from their sports. Good for her for sticking with it.”

“She is committed, that’s for sure,” I say proudly.

Laying the iPad down on her desk, she turns to face me. “I was really sorry to hear about the loss of your brother,” she says as she leans against it, and I briefly take in her space. Her glass-topped desk has a computer, a coffee cup, and a few other things placed on it. She has two windows with standard business blinds, a bookshelf covered with books and items, a section of her wall dedicated to mail and art children have made for her, and her degrees. She completed her undergraduate degree at the University of Minnesota Twin Cities, her medical degree from the University of Florida, and completion certificates for orthopedic surgery residency and her pediatric fellowship from the University of South Florida. There are other certificates showing her accolades and whatnots, and I find I’m just so proud that I could burst.

Proud for a woman I don’t really know, but proud all the same.

I’d like to think that I’m a good judge of character, and while I knew she was sweet and funny the night we met, knowing now that she’s gentle and kind as a caregiver to children makes my esteem for her grow even more.

I press my lips together and tell her, “Thanks.”

“I found out way after the fact, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to be there for you,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. It’s defensive. She’s closing herself off.

I hear her words, and they sound sincere, but her body language lets me know how she feels about what happened and that I never reached out.

Guilt swamps me. She didn’t know. She thought I stood her up because I wasn’t interested.

I take in her beautiful face. There’s tension around her mouth and eyes, and I know I did the right thing by asking for a few minutes. “No. I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have reached out to you or at least had Missy or Camille let you know what was going on. I hate that I stood you up,” I say, frowning.

She unfolds her arms and moves behind her desk to sit down. “I didn’t understand at the time, but I do now, and, Jonah, you have nothing to be sorry about.” She looks up at me.

Shaking my head, I push my hands into my pockets and tell her, “That’s not true.”

I want to tell her that I’m sorry for so much more than just not showing up. I’m sorry for making her feel like what happened between us wasn’t important. I’m sorry for hurting her feelings, when next to Vivi, she is the last person I wanted to hurt. And I’m most sorry that I’ve let all this time pass, time that might have created an us.

“I understand,” she says.

My eyes rise to find hers, and I tell her a truth. A truth she deserves to hear. “I was really looking forward to spending that day with you. For what it’s worth, I want you to know that I was coming back. I remember thinking that wild horses couldn’t keep me away, but it turns out that wild cars can.” My heart constricts.

Silence surrounds us as we both stare at each other.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I was looking forward to seeing you, too.” Now she just looks sad.

And I hate it.

Next to her, the iPad dings. She looks down and then back at me. “I have to go. My next patient is ready.”

I nod and take a step back, which puts me in her doorway, and my heart starts banging in my chest.

“Can I see you again?” I ask, fear almost preventing me from asking, but I have to know. No more regrets.

She hesitates and then quietly says, “I’m dating someone.”

Right.

The pressure around my heart releases and deflates. The nerves I’d felt this whole time dissipate as I realize I’ve lost my chance. I knew this outcome was a possibility. I’d just hoped for the alternative. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be with her? She’s funny, smart, and beautiful. The complete package. I look at the ground as I try to keep myself and my composure together, and then back to her.

“I’m happy for you,” I tell her. And I am. I only want the best for her.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“So maybe I’ll see you around?” I give her a smile, trying to lighten the mood, and she smiles back.

“I hope so.”

And that’s my cue to leave.

“Hey, Jonah?” she calls out, and I turn back. “Thank you for the roses.”

I give her a closed-mouth smile and soak in the details of her one more time.

A coach once said, “Regret is the pain of knowing we could have done better.” That’s always stuck with me, and at this moment, he’s right. I have a lot of regret over how things turned out between us, but I don’t have any regrets for asking today. I put myself out there, and I’m glad I did.

Coming out of Sophie’s office, I pass another doctor in the hallway. I give him a nod, and his eyes flare just a bit with recognition before he nods in return. After he passes, I glance back to see him walk into Sophie’s office, and quietly, I hear him ask, “You do know who that was, right?”