Page 109 of Not Just a Trick Play

She gives a brief nod. “Nothing’s wrong. Not really…” she mutters, trailing off. Her shoes seem to have taken all her attention.

“Tell me,” I urge, my tone laced with exasperation. Why the hesitancy? What’s so terrible that she can’t spit it out?

Her head whips up, her eyes fiery. “Tell you what? That Ben and Margo approached Gran and asked her if she’d turn over management of the inn to them?” She takes a deep breath.

“I don’t see the problem,” I say, even as my heart sinks further.

Lines crease her forehead as she faces me. “I don’t have a job. I don’t have a home,” she explains, a slight tremor in her voice. Before I can reach for her, comfort her, she continues, “I could take over the inn if I go back…to England.”

Wait. What? Shock roots me to the spot. I blink, trying to process her words, as if they are hitting me in slow motion.England?She’s talking aboutleaving?

“You’re not serious?” I splutter, my heartbeat thudding in my ears, loud and disorienting.

She doesn’t answer, and the silence is a vortex pulling me down. Suddenly, it’s as if an ocean’s already opened up between us.

I scramble, struggling to find the magic words that could bind her to the life she was starting to build here. With me. “But what about your dream of living in New York? What about all your plans?”

“Everything’s a disaster.”

So, she’s walking away? Just like that?

“And what about us?”

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

AMELIA

Us?My eyes dart to Jake, his expression a mirror of pure shock. His face. God, his face. It’s everything, and suddenly air refuses to fill my lungs.

My shoulders slump. I have no idea what to say, what to do. All I know is that things are falling apart, and I can’t seem to keep my head on straight. Am I seriously considering going back to England?

Otherwise, what? Stay? Here? With Jake? And brace myself for a never-ending loop of chaos?

Every move he makes will impact me. Every move I make will be magnified. My life will be under perpetual scrutiny, each word and action picked to pieces.

The very idea chills me to the core. It’ll be like living in a fishbowl. How can I cope with being so exposed when all I’ve ever known is the background?

And even if I did stay—what would I do? The tours are a bust. Even if I found other work, I’d be staying just for Jake. And when I’m not able to handle everything? When our relationship disintegrates? What then? I’ll be stranded with no plan B, having gambled it all away on a man. Again.

Deciding to return home isn’t a retreat; it’s self-preservation. It’s not whether the tours fail or succeed, it’s about stepping in where I’m needed, looking after the family business. That’s what adults do, right? And saving the inn from Ben’s grubby grasping fingers—well, that’s an added bonus.

I look at Jake again.

My gut wrenches at the thought of leaving him behind. How can I go if it means being without him? Maybe we could try long-distance? Just until I sort things out. But returning to England requires making a commitment over there, too. I can’t ask him to wait indefinitely when no end is in sight. That wouldn’t be fair. To him. To me.

Ending things with Jake now is the kindest course of action to avoid further complications. To prevent myself from being swallowed whole by a sea of what-ifs and potential regrets, standing too close to the fire when everything eventually burns down.

“Jake…this is how it will be. Every win you have. Every loss. They’ll come looking for me. My job’s out in the open. I’ll always be in their sights. “

His jaw tightens. “I can make sure that doesn’t happen. We’ll get you security. Something.”

“I don’t see how that changes things. You’re still going to be playing football. The press will continue to be an issue.”

Jake stares at me, getting visibly more upset. “So basically, you’re saying I’m too much work.”

My eyes snap to meet his. “I didnotsay that.”

“You kind of did. Should we break up then? So you can go back to your mediocre life to run your tours in peace?”

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