Page 67 of Fumbled Into Love

Does she find me funny?

Am I overbearing?

When I walk into a room, does her chest tighten in excitement the way mine does when I see her?

We lay in silence on the couch, and I softly rub her stomach to banish her cramps.

“Why did your engagement end?” Her question is so soft, so low, I could pretend I missed it, but instead, I sigh, leaning my chin on the top of her head.

It’s time I told someone, and there’s no one I trust more than Nathalie.

“I found her in bed with my teammate, and her engagement ring still on her finger.”

I don’t mince my words the way I expected. Instead, the words are steady and calm, opposite to the rushing of my blood and the beating of my pulse in my ears.

Nathalie sucks in a breath, and her hand peels mine away from her abdomen to interlace our fingers.

“Her name was Savannah.” The words come easily now. It’s easier to confess in this position, where she can’t see how badly it fucked me up. “We were high school sweethearts, and when I committed to Texas, she followed me. I proposed our junior year. Saved up for the fancy ring I knew she hoped for and planned a perfect proposal for months.”

My breath is shaky, but with every word, a weight is lifted from my chest, as if telling Nathalie this secret, its grip on my life loosens.

“I almost threw up. I wassonervous. I knew we wouldn’t get married until we graduated—until I was in the NFL—but I wanted her to know I was all in and committed to her and the future I could picture for us.”

Her free hand runs down my thigh in a reaffirming touch, and I sink into the comfort she’s offering.

“I gave her everything I could offer.”

And it wasn’t enough.

I wasn’t enough for her.

There’s the truth of why I don’t date. I gave her every ounce of love I could offer her, and it wasn’t enough.

I won’t survive the pain of learning it’s not enough for someone else, too.

“Sometimes people don’t understand the value of what they have because they aren’t worthy of it. She wasn’t worthy of you, not the other way around.”

Tears prick my eyes, and as I hold her in my arms, I know, with no uncertainty, I am irrevocably fucked. No matter how or when this ends—because it will—I’ll have to go on knowing someone is going to meet Nathalie, uncover everything she is and offers, and realize she’s a priceless treasure. They’ll recognize that and guard it with their life.

“You are incredibly wise. Are you related to Gandalf?” I ask, breaking the tension.

“I think I would be a dwarf. They’re hardy, loyal, and love shiny things. I think that pretty much sums me up.”

She laughs, and the sound settles the maelstrom of emotions in my chest.

“Shiny things?”

Nathalie pops out of my lap.

“My rock collection! I have so many pretty ones. Want to see?”

She could show me a gray wall, but if she did it with that smile, I could look at that wall forever.

CHAPTER 16

“I’d never turn you off again if you were a song”

If You Were A Song – Abbey Cone

---