Page 81 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

I stare at her.

She presses on. “He’s not going to play football forever. He’s got maybe ten years left. That’s ten years to figure out the next chapter. To build something together. To addto your family.”

I blink rapidly, my chest tight.

She gives me a small, sad smile. “But if you let your fear decide for you, you’re going to lose him before you ever give yourself a chance tohavehim.”

Something cracks inside me. I know she’s right. I wrap my arms around myself, exhaling slowly.

Maggie leans in. “What do you want?”

I close my eyes.

I see Jake. I see Ellie laughing with him. I see us in Maine, on the porch of that ridiculous house, drinking coffee while Ellie plays in the yard. I see holidays and lazy Sundays and a life I never thought I could have.

I see love.

And for the first time in a long time, I open my eyes and I let myself in the future. It’s a world where I’m not just existing in a void but thinking about what my life could be. But it means I have to be vulnerable. And I don’t know if I’m capable of that.

By the time I get home that evening, my stomach is in knots.

Jake watched Ellie and I avoided going home until he left.

Ellie is on the couch, watching cartoons with her stuffed lion tucked under her arm. She looks up when I walk in, her little face hesitant, like she’s still unsure if everything is okay.

My heart aches.

I walk over and kneel in front of her. “Hey, Peanut.”

She blinks at me. “Hey.”

I reach out, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Did you have a good time with Jake?”

“Of course. He’s leaving soon. He said he’ll Facetime, and I can come to one of his games.”

She frowns.

I take a breath. “Do you think you’d like to visit Maine?”

Her eyes widen. “I don’t know. Isn’t that where Jake lives?”

I nod. “We’ll visit one day.”

“Can we go tomorrow?”

It’s so like a child to have no concept of time.

“No. We’ll plan a visit. Maybe we can see him the next time we visit Grandma and Grandpa.”

“We don’t see them much,” she replies as she turns her focus back to the TV.

25

JAKE

Packingmy bags should feel like closure, but instead, every zip of my suitcase feels like a nail in a coffin. I am leaving. Leaving the town, leaving Sam, leaving Ellie. The life I built here, the life I want with them—it isn’t enough to keep me from going. But God, I want it to be.

I have to see them one last time.

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