The smell of the hospital sickens me. I walk down the hallway to the elevator and take it up to the 3rd floor. I texted DJ prior asking him which room Blake is in. As I get off the elevator to the 3rd floor I look for room 302. As I stand outside the room I hear laughter inside. I knock. It goes quiet and I hear scattered whispers of "she's here", "it's her, bro." What a bunch of weirdos. "Ahem, come in." I hear Blake say. I walk in the room and see some of his teammates and friends by his bedside. "Hey." I say with a slight smile. "Hey." He says back. "I just wanted to come see how you were doing." I tell him. "We're going to go bro. We'll be back tomorrow." DJ says. "Alright, bro. Later" they leave the room.
"Ahem, yeah, I'm good. Messed my leg up pretty good. I'm out for the season. I don't really care about that right now though, the morphine just kicked in, so." He jokes.
"Morphine is good. Morphine is good." I nod as I joke back. He laughs.
"So, how have you been?" He asks.
"Good, I guess. I got back to the states a month ago. I just flew in yesterday, though."
"Cool. I'm glad you made it home safe."
"Yeah. Thanks. So, I heard you were seeing someone." I ask him about his supposed budding relationship with a model.
"It's nothing serious. We're just talking right now." He smiles. His smile says it all. It kills me a little inside. I'm too late. I'm to blame for that. This is the price I have to pay now as I sit here and watch the love of my life gush over another woman. It stings, like salt to a wound.
"So, I don't have to worry about DJ secretly keeping tabs on me anymore?" I joke.
"Nah, nah. No more of that." He snickers. "How about you? Who are you seeing?" He asks.
"No one. I'm just going to focus on me. I'm not in a rush to be in a relationship." I tell him.
A nurse comes in the room. "Well, it's good to know you're doing well and in good spirits in light of all this." I gesture to his wrapped leg. "I'll leave you to recover. It was nice talking to you. See you around." I get up from the seat and give him a hug.
"Later, Aaliyah." He says as I leave the room.
I walk down the hallway. This is the worst feeling aside from losing a friend. It hurts not seeing him trying to win me over anymore. It hurts to see him moving on. As selfish as that sounds, it's the truth. All I can do now is move on too.
Two weeks later...
I hear a knock at my door, interrupting my 5th consecutive episode of How to Get Away With Murder. I get up from the couch to answer the door. Blake stands there on my doorstep. Well, leans on his crutches to be specific. "Hey, what are you doing here?" I ask confused. "I--" he struggles with his crutches. "Ohh, shit, I'm sorry. Come in, have a seat." I invite him in. He sits down on my couch. "What's up?" I ask.
"I wanted to come see you."
"Okay, is there something I can help you with? Or?"
"To be honest, Aaliyah. After you left that hospital room that day I could not stop thinking about you. I just felt like, why waste an opportunity? I was mad at myself after you left. I couldn't believe I just let you walk away, with out trying to at least give it another shot. One last shot. So, here I am. If this is my last chance to love you, if I only got one shot to win you then call me Jordan fourth quarter in '92."
