Page 37 of The Promises We Break

He nods.

“Coach Raymer,this is my wife, Ember,” I introduce them as we walk into his office.

She holds her hand out to him as he stands, rounds his desk, then pulls her into a fatherly hug.

I try not to take it personally, but when we first met, I walked into his office, he gave me a strangers handshake, and told me to “sit”.

Ember’s smile is wide and absolutely stunning as she thanks him for having her here.

“So, you are the magical creature that tamed Burnsy here, huh?” He pulls her chair out for her to sit.

She glances at me, attempting to hide both a smile and a scowl.

“I suppose I did, sir.”

“Oh, enough with the ‘sir’ stuff. Please call me John.” My jaw slacks a bit at how easy going he is, and I can’t help but chime in here.

“John...?” I clarify out loud. If someone asked me what his first name is, it would take me a moment to remember because everyone knows him as Coach or Coach Raymer.

“No, not you. She can call me John. You call me Coach.” Great. My coach likes my wife better than he likes me.

They fall into conversation easily about random topics, and I just sit back and observe. I can’t help but notice how she just... fits. I know a part of her is playing the part for me, but she is so likable, it’s effortless for people to fall in love with her.

She’s completely engaged in conversation with him, her hands are animated, and she’s laughing. God, she’s beautiful.

The more she smiles, the more the invisible band around my chest tightens with unknown anxiety. Our time is so limited. After this meeting, she’ll probably never see Coach—John, internal eye roll—again. She’ll work and find a place, and we’ll end up going our separate ways. At least, that’s how she probably envisions it.

Then later, I’ll have to tell my team we’re separated, and Coach Raymer will be incredibly disappointed in me. How come she has to be so damn likable?

We’ve had one day together, technically an overnight, and I already know I want more.

“I truly believe behind every good man is a great woman. That’s clear here, isn’t it, Burnsy?” he asks, turning to me, still smiling from an Ember high.

She looks over at me and mouths,Burnsy, with an adorable face.

“Absolutely, Coach. She is truly my better half,” I reply, staring straight back at her.

I want to keep going. I want to say, I can’t imagine my life without her. Can’t imagine another day without her smile, her laugh, the sound of her voice or the touch of her skin. I never want to know what it feels like to go one day without talking to her. Instead, I smile at her and lean over the armrest of our chairs, kissing her on the temple, because I’ll use any excuse to touch her.

Her body leans into me, naturally. Like she’s finally letting loose and relaxing a little.

“I’ve been married for over thirty years. My wife made me the man I am today. Marriage is a partnership that too many young people take for granted and walk away from at the first hurdle.” He is shuffling a few papers around his desk, grabbing a couple of pens out of their holder and pressing into the top, exposing the ink point.

“Giving up on your marriage is like giving up on your team, a commitment you devoted to yourself and others. When someone decides to take back vows, destroy promises and break bonds they’ve made, well, let’s just say, I question the loyalty and values of someone who is coward enough to divorce.”

Luckily, Coach is engrossed in the paperwork on his desk because Ember’s eyes turn to the size of serving dishes as my mouth becomes its own sinkhole.

Jesus. I mean, that’s pretty fucking judgmental. What if someone cheats? Or, like Seamus’s parents, his mother was abused by her husband. That excuse for a human being drank himself half to death every night, and the nights he wasn’t too far gone, he was strong enough, and sober enough, to beat her.

I agree, divorce is used too heavily these days, but there are reasons for a divorce.

Ember falls completely silent, turns her head just slightly in my direction, and peers at me through her periphery. I smile, even though I’m not sure she can actually see it. So, I reachover, grab her hand, and bring the knuckles that she was rubbing nervously against my lips, grazing a kiss over the peaks.

“Both our parents are great examples for us, Coach.” I leave it at that in hopes it will end his current rant.

Fortunately, it does, and he slides the paperwork he was just shuffling around directly in front of us. He grabs two pens, laying one on either side of the paperwork, one for us each, which already feels like a separation I hate.

I grab mine and place it back in his pen holder. Then I grab hers and hold out for her to take from my palm. “Ladies first.”

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