“You’re not gentle with me,” he noted one rainy Tuesday, grunting through a set of squats.
The breaking point was the Spring Game. It was his first live action since the injury. He played beautifully—three touchdowns, no interceptions. After the game, surrounded by cameras, a sideline reporter asked, “Who was your biggest inspiration during recovery?”
He leaned down—slowly, because his knee still ached—and kissed me. It was clumsy, desperate, and tasted like the cheap coffee from the press box. It was the most real thing I’d ever felt. HDSidelined- The QB and Me
The team lost in the final seconds. The backup threw a pick-six. The stadium emptied in a mournful sigh. I was packing up the medical kit when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“You’re not fragile,” I replied. “You’re just spoiled.” “You’re not gentle with me,” he noted one
He looked at the camera. He smiled his golden smile. “God. My family. And all the fans who never gave up on me.”
For the first week, the world rallied. Get-well banners. Protein shakes. His girlfriend, a sorority president named Chanel, posted a tearful TikTok. But by week two, the texts stopped. By week three, Chanel was seen at a frat party with the backup quarterback. He played beautifully—three touchdowns, no interceptions
Chanel cornered me in the bathroom after a game. “You know he’s just using you for sympathy, right?” she hissed. “Once he’s healed, you’ll be back to fetching ice.”