Page 200 of Red Zone
For the last few weeks, I’ve been telling myself ending it was the smart thing to do. That it was better this way—cleaner. Less messy.
But seeing this?
It only drives the point home.
Even if we’d somehow held it together through the end of the season, we never would have survived what came next.
He would have been gone. And I would have been left here, trying to piece myself back together.
Better to rip the bandage off now. Before I got even more attached.
But the ache in my chest when I tuck his press packet into the pile tells me I was already too late for that.
Because no matter how much I try to deny it…
I know.
I am already in love with Carter Hayes.
And letting him go is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Before Dad left my apartment earlier this week after dropping off the letter of recommendation, he made me agree to dinner.So here I sit in the chair opposite my dad’s desk, my hands folded neatly in my lap while he finishes scribbling something on one of the many papers littering his desk.
I know he means well, truly. Thankfully, he’s let up a little bit this week, which I’m hoping means he took our conversation to heart. Deep down, I know he only wants the best for me. But sometimes what someone else thinks is the best doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the right option for you.
There’s still a part of me that is living in an alternate reality, where the application I submitted to the University of Chicago is accepted and that a certain blond quarterback gets drafted to that area, too.
Dad finally sets the pen down, leans back in his chair, and gives me one of those looks—half stern, half soft—that I’ve known my whole life.
“How’re you holding up, kiddo?” he asks.
The question catches me a little off guard, but I shrug.
“I’m fine,” I say automatically.
He snorts. “Sure you are.”
I glance down at my hands, but he doesn’t let me off the hook that easily.
“You’re working too much,” he says. “You look tired, no offense. And you’re carrying something you’re not talking about. I can see it.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he just shakes his head and cuts me off.
“I hear Carter’s been a real grumpy asshole lately. Big ol’ chip on his shoulder. Like he’s mad at the world.”
I blink at that. “You…noticed?”
“Of course I noticed,” he says, leaning forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “That boy trains like he’s got something to prove every damn day. But he looks like he’s missing something.”
I swallow hard, trying to keep my face neutral, but he just studies me for a long moment before letting out a quiet laugh.
“You know,” he says, voice softening. “When I fell in love with your mom, it scared the hell out of me.”
That makes me look up, surprised.
“She was too good for me,” he continues, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “Too smart. Too stubborn. I almost let her walk away a dozen times. But she was it for me. My heart mate. And you don’t get more than one of those in this life, Lyla. If you’re lucky, you find ’em once.”
He leans back, folding his arms over his chest, his eyes steady on mine.
