“You don’t know shit, asshole. She wasn’t just a woman, she was mine.”
“She’s just pussy. Especially if she’s causing you to act like this.”
“It was a mutual breakup, dickwad. She travels for work, just like I do. It’s not the time for us. Does it hurt like hell? Damn right it does. But I needed to let her go so she could be who she is. And if I ever hear you say Amaya is just pussy ever again, I will go to prison for murder.” I glare at Kent and he backs down.
I go back to the treadmill and push myself harder. I run until my lungs are on fire and my legs are cramping so bad, I can hardly walk. I’ll burn her out of my system somehow. If I don’t, I don’t think I’ll survive this.
I don’t want to live in a world where Amaya isn’t mine. I can’t accept that we are over. We will never be truly over. Someday…she’ll come back to me. I’ll be waiting for her, I always will. There will never be another like her, she’s my one, my only.
My big bang.
**
“Where’s Amaya?” Dad asks as I sit my lonely bag down by the door. I’ve been putting off telling them about our breakup.
“We called things off. With my schedule and her travelling, it just didn’t work out.”
Cindy frowns. “I really thought you would have a ring on her finger by now.”
“She’s your big bang, how could you call things off?” My dad shouts at me.
“She’s going to be touring internationally for the next two years. In this last year, we’ve only been able to see each other six times, and maybe talk on the phone once a month, we’re too busy. We’ve been pulling away from each other and it was hurting too much,” I tell them.
“I don’t understand any of this,” Mom says, her voice catching. “You have Gramma’s ring, you were planning to ask her to marry you for months, and instead of doing that you broke up?”
“It wasn’t planned, okay? She was already planning to leave me before I got home from the show. I came home early and found her packing.” I rub at my face. “I don’t blame her. Every time she is off, I can never meet up with her, and whenever I have down time, she can’t meet up with me. What’s the point of being together if we can’t ever be together?” I throw my hands up and go to the kitchen for a beer. Alcohol is the only way I am going to survive this Christmas without her.
I chug a can down and instantly start on another before returning to my family.
Raul clears his throat and nudges Mom. Narrowing my eyes at her, I see that my mom looks guilty.
“What?” I bark at her.
Raul speaks up. “Amaya calls us. We talk to her at least once a week.”
“Okay? And?”
“She’s been worried about you. Mostly in part of jealousy, the magazine’s she’s seen you pose in with beautiful women, the time you went to the Playboy Mansion…”
“So, you’re saying she broke up with me because she thought I was cheating?” What the hell? Amaya knows me better than that, I would never hurt her in that way.
“No, not at all. I’m saying. Yes, she was jealous, but she wasn’t worried about that. She was upset that you found all this time to party with other women but never time for her, to see her shows, to just be there.”
Fuck, I never thought of it that way. It’s also true. I’m more to blame over the end of our relationship than she is. I chose partying with my team, doing things my manager and agent booked me to do, when that whole time I could have been trying to see Amaya instead.
“Just give it some time. You only get one big bang. You know good and well your mother and I never had that. We just dated like any high school couple would. And the next step was marriage. Once you have your big bang you won’t be able to settle for anything less,” Dad tells me.
“Yeah, but two years?”
Dad shrugs. “Never know where life will take you. For now, focus on your game, yourself. And when Amaya finally comes back, fight and never let go. Even if it means sacrifices.”
I glance to the Christmas tree and watch the twinkling lights and imagine Amaya’s face as I propose to her next to it. My grandmother’s diamond sparkling in the lights. That won’t happen now. I should probably give it back to my Grandma, but I can’t bring myself to part with it, yet. I keep thinking that one day I’ll slide it onto her finger. I keep thinking one day we will find our way back.
I head upstairs to my old room. The sound of my parent’s laughter floats up the stairs. I had that and lost it, and I’m not sure I will ever get it back. I pull out my phone and call Amaya.
“Hello,” she shouts over music and chatter.
“Hey, Merry Christmas,” I yell.