Page 78 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

Tears well in her eyes. “I don’t know how to do this,” she whispers.

I breathe out harshly. “Yeah, well, neither do I. But you don’t see me running away. I feel like I’ve been in this relationship by myself. I want to move ahead and you’re content with the status quo. Don’t you want more?”

We stare at each other, both of us hurting, both of us wanting something that feels just out of reach.

She takes a breath, shaky and uneven. “I just—I need time.”

I close my eyes for a second, nodding.

I don’t want to give her time.

I want her to come with me.

But I can’t make her choose me or my life. I’m gutted. I should have known she wasn't ready for what we had. She’s been dragging her heels and honestly, I’m tiredof arguing for something I want when it’s clear to me that she doesn’t want the same thing

I look at her one more time before stepping back. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

She nods.

I exhale, walk upstairs, and quickly pack my bag.

And I pray like hell that when she does decide, she chooses me and us. I have a job to do and I’ll miss her and Ellie like hell. But these are the big decisions in life that define us and if she can’t own up to how she feels, then we’re doomed anyway. I’m too old to invest in a dead-end relationship.

24

SAMANTHA

We watchJake walk to my bedroom to collect his things, and then we watch him walk away. I’m relieved he’s spending his last night in my inn. If he drove to the airport now I don’t know what I’d do. I’m not ready for him but I’m not ready for what he wants.

Ellie is so still I’m worried. It’s as if my worst nightmare is unfolding and I can’t do anything to make her feel better.

We stumble through dinner without Jake. She’s not her talkative self and I can’t blame her. And this is why I’ve not been in a relationship with a man since I became Ellie’s guardian. There are no words to comfort her but I try.

“Jake loves you, Ellie. He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. I’m sure he’ll stay in touch.”

“It’s not the same.” She picks at the spaghetti noodles on her plate. She’s a maven at strewing it around her to make it look like she ate.

“Eat a few bites. We’ll watch a show before bedtime.”

She takes a few bites and leaves the table. I hope in time we can return to our life before Jake. It won’t be easy. Now, I have another reason to avoid clam bakes on the beach. Why did ourtime together have to be so perfect? Why did I take him to the strawberry patch? It’s as if every inch of this town is a reminder that he was here and that we had fun.

But life isn’t comprised of just fun. I have to make decisions about what’s best for Ellie and me.

After I get Ellie to sleep I turn in for the night. I watch an old movie and fall into a fitful sleep. What would be so difficult about moving to Maine? Am I making the right decision?

The morning starts with a tightness in my chest that I can’t shake.

I wake up early—before the alarm, and before the sun is fully up. I check on Ellie and she stirs in her bed.

The day has just begun and already my mind is racing. I tell myself everything will be fine. I’ll just get an early start today. I’ll keep my mind and body busy.

Because busy means I don’t have to think or feel–no problem, I can do this. I’ve survived on this methodology for years.

So why am I finding it so difficult? I can’t get Jake out of my mind.

I get Ellie up and I go through the motion of breakfast. But it’s not the same. I make pancakes as I know she expected Jake to make them today but he’s not going to be here. The pancakes are flat as my mood. Ellie’s somber face reflects her disposition.

She probably blames me—again, and perhaps she’s right.

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