I try calling Edward a few more times but each time I get his voicemail. He never ignores my calls and at least sends me a text to tell me he got my message or something. I have a really bad feeling about all of this, and it’s pissing me off that I can’t just get answers.
I immediately start searching for the MLS’s list of banned substances and start browsing terms and names and it all sounds so confusing. I can’t even pronounce half this shit. I can’t get anything concrete until I know exactly what was found in his blood stream. I’m baffled because I’ve always thought that steroids make you moody and sometimes more volatile, and Edward has been cool as a cucumber all this time. Nothing is making sense.
As I continue to search for some clue as to what’s going on, I make calls to the Red Bulls corporate offices, identifying myself only as a reporter from the Post. I don’t know what kind of reception I would receive if they knew I was with Edward, since photographs and rumors have already linked us together on several gossip websites and magazines. The reps I speak to don’t give me much information, only that Mr. Masen has tested positive for ATD, an estrogen inhibitor used in anabolic steroids. When I ask for more information, the reps are vague, saying that a press conference scheduled for later in the day to answer any further questions. I am not pleased.
I try once again to get ahold of Edward, texting him.
Edward, please talk to me, text me, something...I’m really worried. -B
I get no response after a half hour and just when I try calling him again, Rose knocks, walking right in without needing any further permission.
“Did you talk to him?”
“No, he won’t answer my calls or texts. I called the team’s corporate office, but of course they’re being as vague as possible until their press conference this afternoon.”
“Yes, three P.M. You should come with me, I’ll need some extra help. By the way, I looked up the lab the team uses for testing, they’re pretty reputable. Their margin of error is virtually non-existent.” Rose eyes me cautiously, I guess trying to gauge my demeanor. “I called Emmett to see if maybe he knew something...”
“And?” I don’t give her an opportunity to finish her sentence.
“He says he’s never seen Edward take anything other than the vitamins the team doctors give all the players. But he also said he could’ve taken something in private, and that not all steroids cause mood swings, so you never know.”
“You never know? Is he serious with this shit, Rose? He’s been friends with him for years, and he can’t vouch for him?” I am mad now. How could Emmett so easily dismiss Edward’s credibility like that?
Maybe he does know something we don’t.
“Calm down, B. We don’t know the facts yet. You haven’t even spoken to Edward yet, so why don’t we take things one step at a time? We’ll find out more later today.”
I notice that I’m a little more revved up than I should be. I need to be as unbiased as I can and not let the news affect me until I have the facts, like Rose says. I realize that I’m a little defensive, almost as if I was the one accused of taking an illegal substance, and not Edward. I’m taking this personally. Why? Am I doubting him? Can it be that he is ingesting something to improve his performance? Did he feel that much pressure to get an MLS deal that he would take something to ensure his success? All this is too much to process, because I’m suddenly feeling like he lied to me, not to his new team.
After Rose departs, I sit there, dumbfounded. I start to think back to my time with Edward. I search my memories for any little action or word that could have set off an alarm that he was taking something. Nothing. I’ve got nothing. In my previous experience with athletes, I could always tell when someone was taking something to enhance their performance. Aside from the obvious physical proof including increased muscle mass and quicker reflexes, there were also emotional indicators-- mood swings, aggression. I have never seen those blatant signs from Edward. His sexual aggression was never anything out of the ordinary, even though he was much more intense than anyone I’ve ever been with.
Just as my thoughts continue to dance around my head, my cell chimes.
Can’t talk right now. Everything’s all fucked up. I miss you. -E
Well that doesn’t help me in the least. I know everything’s fucked up, Edward. Damn it. The curiosity and not knowing anything is killing me right now. Not only because the reporter in me is dying to know exactly what’s going on, but also because this is Edward...my Edward. He just got here. He came here to be with me. Did his desire to be with me cause him to make the wrong choices for himself?
Oh God, what the fuck am I saying? There’s no way I could be the reason for his decisions. We haven’t been together that long, and he was already planning on coming back to the U.S. before he even met me. Silly Bella.
But something in the back of my mind is nagging, pulling me from the most possible scenario. You can’t argue with the evidence. The test indicates he took something, and I know it isn’t unusual among athletes at all. There are been several high-profile cases already in the MLB, a couple in the NFL, and the first two cases in the MLS a few years ago. New York Red Bulls Goalkeeper Jon Conway and Defender Jeff Parke were each suspended 10 games after testing positive for using performance enhancing drugs. They were also fined ten percent of their salary. Being banned from ten games is pretty harsh, when there are 30 regular season games. If the allegations are true, Edward would be the third player for the Red Bulls to test positive; not good for press, or reputation.
However, my heart and my intuition are screaming that he’s innocent. Something’s not right. Edward is a good person. He values his family, his friends, and he loves the game. He’s philanthropic, giving to others and the community. Besides all that though, he looks at me straight in the eye- something I can’t say about any of the men from my past. There’s just something in his eyes that’s sincere, and open book. I feel like I can see right through them, I’ve never felt as if he’s hiding anything.
Could it be that I’m just hoping that he’s innocent for my own sake? What if I’m wrong and he is guilty of doing this? If he’s capable of cheating with his own career and the people around him, is he capable of being insincere in our relationship? Could he cheat in other areas of his life? I’d already seen his playboy ways before we got serious, and I knew all the rumors of his supposed party lifestyle. I had seen gossip sites with photos of him with girl after girl. I know very well I can’t judge his lifestyle before me; shit, I was basically his female equivalent no more than three weeks ago. But now things were different- at least to me they were.
His text was doing nothing to quell the insistent thoughts racing through my mind. I was looking at all possible angles, but I really really need to talk to Edward myself before the press conference. It doesn’t look like I’ll get my wish.
Lunch approaches and I can’t even think about eating. Phones ring, people chatter, bodies rush from one side of our floor to the other, as everyone tries to get their shit together for the late edition of the paper. Deadlines always excite me, but now I just want to lock myself in my office and wait until it’s absolutely necessary to get to the press conference.
~*~*~*~EtS~*~*~*~
Cameras are flashing, reporters are shouting questions at the suits and coaches sitting up front as I crane my neck to catch a glimpse of them. Most of the questions are the most obvious ones: What was found in his bloodstream? How much of it was found? Where did he possibly get it from? Is it possible we was using while he was with Arsenal?
We are told that something called ATD was found in small quantities in his blood. According to the coaches and team doctors, it’s an androstatriendione (whatever that means) found in OTC supplements. It can come in both pill, liquid, and topical form. It can also be an ingredient in certain anabolic steroids- a big no-no among professional leagues. There are no physical side effects as associated with other forms of steroids, and is normally taken by natural athletes and body builders as a supplement.
The MLS considers ATD a performance-enhancing substance, and they have the most stringent “Banned Substances” list among any professional sports association. ATD alters the body’s estrogen and testosterone production, therefore enhancing muscle mass and overall athletic performance. Suddenly, the possibility that Edward ingested this stuff weighs heavily on my mind. While I couldn’t see him taking traditional steroids, what about supplements? Maybe it’s something he takes in Europe legally? My voice asks the question before my head can control it.
“Why would Mr. Masen knowingly ingest a banned substance if he was aware of the protocols involved in signing a major contract. Logic says he would know a complete physical would be conducted. It just doesn’t sound as if it were deliberate. Care to explain?”
The room falls silent and all eyes are on me and my stupid mouth. I should’ve told Rose to ask the question. Everyone at this point knows who I am, knows the rumors, has seen the pictures. This could be bad. All I need is for all these people to believe that I can’t be impartial. I can totally stay impartial....right?
Rose’s eyes widen as she silently yells at me. Yes, pretty scary, this Rose.
I swallow hard, glancing at everyone’s faces as one of the team doctors clears his throat. All eyes shift back to him as he gives some bullshit answer about how it’s impossible for the tests to be tainted and that a full investigation would be conducted to remove any possibility of foul play. Not enough information. I need to talk to Edward.
Then they declare their decision in regards to Edward’s contract.
“In light of the recent events regarding Mr. Edward Masen’s positive drug test results, it is the decision of the Red Bulls management team that he be placed on probation, and suspended from the first five regular-season games. He will also be fined 10 percent of his salary. His official contract will be marked as tentative, dependent on the resolution of the pending investigation. Mr. Masen’s agent and legal team are working with the MLS Player’s Union, and have filed an appeal. Within ten days of receiving the appeal, the League will hold a hearing where the player and/or his designee are in attendance. The League will then issue a written decision.”
This sucks. The conference is adjourned and I quickly gather my things to leave when Rose grabs my arm...rather forcefully. Yes, this Rose is definitely scary.
“What the hell was that about, Bella?” Ooh, she’s using my name and not ‘B’. Can’t be good. “Are you high? What were you thinking asking these people questions? That’s my job! Aside from that, people know who you are! Don’t you think it’s a little suspect that you’re alluding that you think he’s innocent?”
“Yes, I’m aware of that....Look, I’m sorry...I wasn’t thinking. I don’t know what came over me.” I try to smooth things over.
“I know exactly what came over you. You’re too close to this, B. Don’t get involved. Let me handle this. You don’t want anyone questioning your credibility. And it might hurt Edward in the long run.”
I know she’s right. If anyone sees me snooping around for answers, it might seem like I’m trying to get inside information to help Edward. That could be damaging to both Edward’s and my career. I have to take a step back.
But it doesn’t mean I won’t snoop...I’ll just do it quietly...all stealth-like. I will get to the bottom of this.
~*~*~*~EtS~*~*~*~
On my way home from work, my cell chimes again. It’s Edward.
Can I come by your place, say in about an hour? I need to see you. -E
Shit. I don’t like the sound of that. I try to lighten up the mood.
Sure. I’ll be here. I’ll feed you. -B
Ok. -E
Wow. I basically opened the door for him to throw back some lewd joke about wanting to eat me, and nothing. Things must be pretty shitty.
After changing into some pajama pants and a tank top, I start dinner. I figure simple is better, so I whip up some pasta and chicken. I may not be the seasoned chef Edward seems to be, but I can get around just fine around the kitchen. I open a bottle of wine and serve myself a glass. Lord knows this might be a difficult evening.
By the time my doorbell rings, dinner is ready and the table is set. I open the door to a truly disturbing sight. Edward stands disheveled, in a wrinkled shirt and jeans. His hair more of a mess than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes are prominent, making his face look hollow. The expression in his eyes is tired and stale, the green not as deep. This is not good. He’s shifting his weight from one leg to the other, head down as he takes fleeting glimpses at me, almost embarrassed. What has he done?
“Hi.” It’s almost a whisper on his lips.
“Hey, come in.” I reach out to take his hand in mine as I lead him into the living room. I turn to kiss him, and his mouth is hesitant at first. I wonder if he thinks I’m upset at him. I’m insistent as I lick his bottom lip and he finally relaxes as our tongues meet. His arms wrap tightly around my waist, bringing me close to him as possible. I can feel the desperation and fear radiating off of him as he clings to me as if I’m a flotation device. When he breaks our kiss, exhaling deeply into my neck, I know not all is well. My arms around his neck hold him close to me, my fingers massage his scalp, hoping to soothe him from whatever kind of a shit day he’s most definitely had. Many unresolved questions are looming in my brain but they can wait. He needs me now.
“It’s all fucked,” he whispers against my skin. My body reacts to his breath on my skin and I’m very inappropriately aroused. I really want to take him to my bedroom and have my way with him, but my brain screams at me to pull myself together, since he really is seriously fucked right now.
“Shh. Everything will be ok.” It’s all I can say really. I don’t want to accuse him, and I don’t want to question him because he seems like he’s in no mood, so saying ‘everything will be ok’ is harmless enough...I think.
He breaks away from me and smiles weakly, but it never reaches his eyes. There’s no Smirk, there’s no coy grin, just a sad half-ass smile. I lead him over to the dining room table and pour him a glass of wine. He raises his hand as if to halt my actions.
“No, thank you. I really shouldn’t. Not while there’s all this shit going on. They might decide to get me re-tested. I can’t have anything in my bloodstream that would raise suspicion.”
“What the hell happened, Edward?” I finally ask, not being able to stay out of reporter mode. “At the press conference they said you tested positive for that ATD stuff.”
“It’s an organic supplement. Lots of athletes use it for body-building and performance enhancement. It’s really not that big of a deal,” he says almost dismissively.
Oh dear. Could it be true? It sounds like he’s defending himself. I decide to press him for more info while we eat.
“What, do you take it like a vitamin, or injected or what?”
“Usually it’s mixed into a drink, even water...It’s totally tasteless.”
It’s sounding more and more like he actually did it, but it just doesn’t seem like him. Then again, maybe this is just another side of him I wasn’t aware of.
We eat the rest of our meal in relative silence, only commenting here and there about how good the food is. Finally, we sit on the sofa as I pull up a playlist on the iPod and relax. My hand is caressing the back of his neck, fingers finding their way through his hair while his head leans on back of the sofa. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing purposefully, trying to calm himself down. The muscles in his body are tense, but he looks like he could dissolve into a puddle from exhaustion.
His arms reach out for me and place me on his lap, his nose skimming my jaw to my ear.
“Fuck. I needed this. Everything is all fucked up, Bella. I don’t know what the hell happened. Felix is on it, and I should be able to appeal this, but what if this permanently fucks everything up? I was really hoping all the bullshit would’ve been left in London, and I could just focus on making it here and be with you, and just...fucking be. All we’ve been talking about is how we should just be, and it’s all fucked up.” He sounds like a little boy, all whiney and rambling. If he really did do this, I need to get to the bottom of his reasons for doing it. If he knew he’d be fucked if found out, why would he even entertain the idea?”
“It’s ok, baby. I’m sure Felix will get you out of this. It’s not unusual for athletes to have deal with this stuff. What sucks is that stupid fine and the game suspension. I’ve never seen another sports entity take such a strict stance on a first-time offender.” I decide to go in for the kill and ask the question plaguing me.
“Edward, why would you do it? You had to have known they’d test you.”
His movements still and his breathing stops. His muscles tense under my fingers and he leans away to stare wide-eyed, almost in shock.
“What do you mean ‘why would I do it?’ I didn’t.” His brow creases and he looks at me, his eyes darkening. I continue as if he hadn’t spoken.
“I mean, I can understand why you would do it, I guess. You’re under a lot of pressure, you wanted to make sure you’d get drafted, but you should’ve known, Edward...”
He quickly lets go of me, and I’m forced to get off of him as he stands. I sit on the sofa, confused, as he paces in front of me, his hands grabbing and pulling at his hair. No wonder it’s a mess.
“You honestly believe I’d knowingly take that shit? Bella, who the fuck do you think I am?” He’s raising his voice and I feel this evening taking a nosedive. I respond mechanically.
“Um, well, Edward, I don’t know what to think right now because I don’t have all the information. I mean, honestly, I haven’t known you long enough to know one-hundred percent.” I am being honest, but the answer feels robotic, and I am instantly regretful I even opened my mouth.
“Wow. Could you take off the reporter hat for just a minute, Bella, and think about what you just said? You don’t KNOW me? What the fuck? I thought we were getting to know each other pretty damn well. I came here...to New York...to be with YOU! Do you honestly think I would jeopardize everything I’ve been working towards with this shit?” He pauses, chuckling incredulously. “You know, maybe I don’t know YOU!” He was really angry now. I’ve never seen him like this.
My voice raises and I suddenly start to spew shit out I can’t control. What the hell is wrong with me?
“I don’t know what you’re capable of, Edward. How am I supposed to know whether you’d do that or not? I’ve known enough people in my life to know that they’re not always what they seem to be. You’ve shown me one part of yourself; how can I say I know every part of you? I have no idea what’s in your head...or what’s in the minds of most men I’ve met. This is precisely the reason I stay away...” I trail off, not able to finish what I am thinking because I’m aware I’m this close to hurting him, and I don’t want to. My thoughts momentarily take me back to Mike; we had a similar argument about me not trusting him. That was before I found him in bed with one of my best friends. I shudder at the memory, and I’m brought back to the present when Edward’s wounded eyes meet mine.
He looks as if he’s been punched in the gut, and abruptly makes for the door. Oh no! He’s leaving...I can’t have that. Shit. What have I done? I immediately try to back track...
“Edward, listen to me please, I’m not explaining myself properly, just give me a chance...”
He stops and speaks over his shoulder. “No, Bella, I think you’ve said exactly what you needed to say.” He turns around, and his glare nearly makes me stumble. “You think you only know one part of me? Bella, I’ve shown you everything I am. I’ve let you into parts of my heart that I’ve never allowed another woman to see.
“You know what’s really going on here? You’re afraid. You’ve always been petrified of letting me really see you. You don’t trust me. Because if you did, you wouldn’t even question my innocence. I think deep down inside, you’re hoping I’m guilty. Because at least then, your theories about all men being liars and cheats still holds true. If I’m a cheater, it’s a hell of a lot easier for you to just throw this all away and close yourself off again.”
My mouth opens and closes like a fish, trying to create words to argue with him, but I can’t. I’m dumbfounded. I know he’s right...about everything. This shit sucks. I feel ill.
When he sees that I make no move to speak, he continues, this time more softly.
“Bella, if you can’t trust me, what are we doing here?” He moves towards me until we’re inches apart. His breath is hot on my face, and I just want to pretend this conversation never happened.
“I’m not him, Bella. I’m not all those men from your past. Yeah, I’ve messed around, but that was before I met you. If you honestly believe I would do something to endanger my chances to be with you and my ability to play the game I love, then maybe you in fact don’t know me. I need you, Bella. I need to know you’re on my side. I can’t do this without you. I came here to be close to you...” He ends it in a whisper, and I feel tears forming in my eyes. I wan’t to believe him. I really do. But something keeps nagging at me not to trust him. I feel terrible. I know better...I know him better than I’d like to admit...
His palm frames my jaw as he kisses me lightly on the forehead before turning to leave. This night definitely is not what I expected.
“I have to go. I guess we’ll talk...whenever,” he says, sounding completely defeated.
Before I regain my capacity of speech enough to tell him to stop...to wait...he’s gone.
“Please...don’t go,” I whisper, staring at the closed door.
The air around me thickens, and I feel physically exhausted. I stand there, immobile, for what seems hours, but in fact probably minutes. What the fuck did I just do? I want to punch myself, yell at myself...something. Instead, I slowly sit on the couch, replaying what was said.
I don’t know what you’re capable of, Edward. How am I supposed to know whether you’d do that or not?
I close my eyes, tears flowing freely down my cheeks.
You’ve shown me one part of yourself, how can I say I know every part of you?
My arms reach around my torso, hugging myself. I can hear his voice echo off the walls.
You think you only know one part of me? Bella, I’ve shown you everything I am.
I shiver, but not from the cold.
I’m not him, Bella. I’m not all those men from your past.
“I know you’re not,” I say to the empty room. I finally break down, the quiet sobs the only sound in my empty apartment. And then it hits me.
“I fucked up. I’m a complete and utter moron! ARGH!” I shout as I throw myself on the sofa, face buried against the throw pillows.
I know Edward didn’t take those supplements. I know he didn’t. Why did I question his innocence? He’s right. He’s fucking right. Believing he was guilty would make it so much easier to pull away from him, branding him a cheater, just like the rest of them.
But he’s not the rest of them. He’s Edward. My Edward. And I certainly do know every part of him now...more than any other person in my life.
He came here to be with me. And I shot him down the moment things got rough.
I’m a douche.
But, the tests still came back positive. That means there’s only one other possibility as to how it happened.
Someone’s fucking with Edward. And I’m going to find out who...I’ll do this for him. I’ll do this for him.
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