My End Game

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Chapter Thirty One


“My head is no longer in the game, I think this is what I need to do. Sure, I might regret this decision, but I think I’ll regret it more if I don’t try,” was what I said to my father who’s sitting on the chair next to the hospital bed. I look over to him when he didn’t respond. “Really? a newspaper? Who the hell still reads the newspaper?” I teased and he chuckles at my childishness. “I do, obviously. You don’t need my permission or approval son, you do what you think is best. If that fails, try something else.” As easy as that huh? I guess he approves. My father is always a man of few words which often makes me wonder how he survives socializing or having conversations with his friends and business partners. He doesn’t sugar coat things and doesn’t like beating around the bush. He says what he means and means what he says in the shortest possible way. I guess I'm the one who took after him, while Micah took after our mother.

I looked outside the window thinking about Ireland like I have been doing since the first time I saw her. I was wondering if she knows what happened to me or if she saw me go down like a rag doll that has been tossed. God, I can just imagine how horrified she would be or must’ve been. I wanted to call her or send her a message, but the doctor has ordered no phones or gadgets, reading, or watching TV yet. Why? I’m not sure, but I’m not going to fucking question that. The more I listen to what they want me to do, the sooner I can go home. I don't want to stay here any longer because I hate hospitals, it reminds me of the times before my mother died.

The door to my hospital room opened and I didn’t even check to see who came in. It’s probably the nurse or Micah coming back from fuck knows where. Possibly a date, but I don’t care. He just said he has to go somewhere important. “I brought something from you,” Micah singsonged. I ignored him and continued to look out the window. Seriously, sometimes I really think he needs to have his head checked. He's too cheerful at times, even in awkward and scary situations. It's weird as fuck sometimes. Like, he doesn't know how to get angry or how to feel sad. He's like a damn bluebird. “Oh, come on! I promise, you’re gonna love this one, just look!” He insisted like a sulking child. I swear if he’s trying to pull a prank on me at the current state I'm in, I’ll murder him in front of our father.

I really didn't want to play his game, but I took the bite anyway. I turned my head and shock took over me. “Ireland...” was the only thing I was able to say. “Hi...” She quietly said and my heart jets out of my chest. She stood beside Micah looking like she was afraid to move and I wanted so much to run to her and wrap my arms around her. My dad stood up and placed his hand on my shoulder. He then turned to look at Ireland, smiling from ear to ear which he absolutely doesn’t do. Now, that's freaking weird!

”Padre, esta es la mujer con la que me voy a casar (Father, this is the woman I’m going to marry). Ireland, this is my father.” Ireland moved closer and extended her hand, smiling shyly at my father. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Tresantos.” My father gave her a brief, but warm hug and said, “I’m Miguel, but I’d prefer it if you called me papá (dad).” Warmth spread in my chest like a wildfire. I can’t believe she came back for me.

"We'll just grab something to eat," Micah said wrapping his arms around our father's shoulders. Ireland turned to me and walked over slowly. "How are you?" she asked. "I'm good. I can go home tomorrow I think," I answered. Neither of us knew what we're supposed to do at this point. We're suddenly too shy to physically touch or talk normally. "Well, this is awkward," I sniggered and that did the trick. She threw her arms around my neck and started crying. I held her close whispering calming words to her ear. I let her hold me for as long as she wanted and when she pulled away, she dipped her head in to kiss me. And let me tell you, It was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

We talked for hours about different things. She told me she watched the whole freaking thing, and I cringed at how she described everything from her perspective. She also said she panicked when I didn't move and that Samantha went all fast and furious just to get her to the airport as quickly as possible so they won't miss the only available flight. She mentioned that she had no idea how amazing I was inside the pitch and that made me laugh. I told her that I didn't feel much and that I can't remember what happened. The only thing I remember about it is me running and then jumping as high as I can and the next thing I know I was already in the hospital. She kept asking me if I'm really fine and I kept asking her if she's alright.

We didn't discuss anything serious. I think, for the most part, we avoided talking about the heavy stuff, like our future, though I really do believe we should talk about it asap. I guess we're just enjoying this time to catch up and we've just decided to have "the talk" when we get home.

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