Page 74 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

“Will you forget about us?” she asks, barely above a whisper.

Jesus.

Her question was like a punch to the ribs.

Samantha closes her eyes briefly, like she’s bracing herself, then pulls Ellie into her arms. “Sweetheart, we don’t know what’s happening yet.”

Ellie’s shoulders shake. “You don’t know,” she sobs, muffled against Sam’s shirt, “but he does.”

And that’s the part that guts me.

Because she’s not wrong.

I watch Samantha run her fingers through Ellie’s curls, trying to soothe her, but I can see it in her eyes—she’s unsure too. She doesn’t know what I’ll do.

I don’t even know what I’ll do.

I crouch down, leveling myself with them. “Ellie,” I start, keeping my voice as gentle as I can, “come here, kiddo.”

She shakes her head, burrowing deeper into Samantha.

I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. “I’m not going anywhere tonight,” I say instead. “I’m still here. With you.”

Ellie doesn’t answer, just grips the lion cub tighter.

I glance at Samantha, but she doesn’t look at me. Her fingers move absently over Ellie’s back, comforting, steady.

I swallow hard.

Can I trust her to bend for me? To change the rigid life she’s built here for something unknown? Because I know what I want. I wantthis. But what if she can’t choose it?

What if I stay, and she lets me in—only to realize later that she regrets it?

Wouldn’t it be easier to leave now?

I step outside. I need air, space, anything to clear my head. I walk to the edge of the porch, staring out at the night sky, and pull out my phone again. My fingers hover over the screen for a long moment before I finally tap the contact.

“Yeah?” The real estate agent answers on the second ring.

“I’ll take it,” I say.

There’s a pause. “The house in Maine?”

“Yeah.”

The words feel like a lifeline. Something solid.

“You’re sure? It’s a big investment.”

I glance back at the house with Sam and Ellie and through the window, I see Ellie curled up on the couch now, the stuffed lion still clutched in her arms. Sam is sitting beside her, legs folded, rubbing slow circles on Ellie’s back.

“Yeah,” I say again. “I’m sure.”

As I hang up, my chest feels just a little lighter.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Samantha’s voice, low and urgent.

“You saw what?”

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