Page 83 of Resisting the Running Back

“Thanks, Millby.”

“Anytime, Summers. You know that.”

“I do.” I tip my chin up and press my lips to his.

“Do you need to talk about it?”

I twist my lips and shrug. “I don’t know. I need to process, I guess.”

“Then let’s process, let’s eat, and let’s go for a walk tonight and talk. Sound okay?”

I press my lips together and nod. “Sounds good.”

When we return to the table, the food has arrived. Everyone is quiet as they dig in, and I’m debating whether they’re quiet because of the situation or because the food is here.

I’ve lost most of my appetite, but I force myself to eat some of the salmon. It’s delicious, and I guess what I’ve heard about the food on these cruises is true—it’s top-tier.

When our server comes by, I think about ordering a piña colada, but instead I settle on a dark and stormy—stronger to dull the nerves faster.

It feels like a lifetime passes before dessert arrives, and my mother excuses herself early. I don’t know where she goes, and frankly, I’m not sure I care right at this moment in time.

Everyone is involved in their own little side conversations over dessert. My dad is to my right, and I lean over toward him as he digs into his key lime pie. “So when is all this happening?”

He clears his throat. “It’s in progress. We’ve filed all the paperwork, and it should be finalized in the next month or so.”

“What made you decide to give it all up?”

He tilts his head, and I swear I see a little sympathy in his eyes. “Truthfully? It was you, sweetheart.”

My brows push together. “Me?”

He nods. “You up and moved to San Diego in the middle of the school year to be with the person you love, and it just felt so…” He trails off, and I wait for him to fill in the word. “Brave. And now we find out you’re giving your dreams a shot, doing this writing thing you felt like you had to keep from us. I’m sorry you felt that way.”

“You know how Mom is,” I mutter, and I don’t want this to turn into a me and him against her thing, but part of me feels like that’s just the way it’s always been.

And a bigger part of me is starting to realize that’s the reason that likely fueled this whole thing between them.

“I do,” he confirms, and then he goes a step further to confirm the rest of my hunch. “And I got to a point where it just felt like we were too different to stay on the path we were going down. We grew apart, and it’s as simple and as difficult as that. As you get older, you get more and more set in your ways, and rather than growing in the same direction…well, we didn’t.”

We’re both quiet as we take a bite of our pie, and then he adds, “Every marriage is a little different. Some can go the distance, and others can’t. So I don’t want you to think you’re doomed to failure.”

I nod, and I glance over at Miller as I think about how well my dad knows me.

I wonder what my dad would think about knowing the entire reason we’re even engaged was due to an elaborate lie to Mom.

I’m about to admit the truth when he says, “But it’s you and Miller. You have a strong foundation of friendship. You’ll figure things out.”

I hope he’s right, but since I’m not even sure if we’re actually going to go through with this, I guess there’s no way of knowing.

But I do think that’s something we need to talk about—maybe tonight on our walk.

CHAPTER 38: Miller Banks

Private Cabana

After dinner, we head to the promenade to walk the loop that circles the outer edge of the entire ship. Her hand is clutching mine. The air is cooler at night without the hot daytime sun beating down on us, but it feels balmy and comfortable.

“How are you feeling about everything?” I ask.

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