Page 3 of Hometown Touchdown
“I know you did,” she says gently. “You’ve always been the strong one, even when you shouldn’t have to be. But no one’s asking you to hold it together anymore. Not for him. Not for anyone.”
I wipe at my face, but the tears keep falling. “I don’t know what to do. I’m just…so tired, Mom. Tired of fighting for something that was never really mine.”
There’s a pause on the other end. And then, her voice, steady as ever, carrying that familiar undercurrent of love that never wavers.
“Come home.”
I freeze.
Two words. So simple. But they land like a lifeline.
I close my eyes, the ache in my chest giving way to something that almost feels like relief. The idea of Cedar Falls, of pulling into the driveway and seeing the porch light on. Of not pretending I’m okay for just one damn minute. It presses into me with the weight of possibility.
I whisper, “I don’t know if I can, what about my job?”
“You can,” she says softly. “Your job will either work with your move or you find a new one. And you don’t have to do it alone. We’ve got you. I’ve got you. Just…come home, Brynn.”
I take a shaky breath, staring through the windshield at the blurred lines of the parking lot lights, tears still wet on my cheeks. “Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll come home.”
Mom’s voice softens even more, if that’s possible. “When?”
I swallow hard, the weight of the decision settling in my chest. “Two weeks? I need time to…sort through everything. Close this chapter.”
“That’s fine, sweetheart. I’ll make sure your room is ready. We’ll figure it all out when you get here.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, voice cracking on the words. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Always.”
There’s a pause. Then her voice shifts—just slightly smug, just slightly dangerous.
“And just say the word—I’ll set that dress on fire in the backyard. I’ll even invite the neighbors. We’ll make s’mores.”
A breathy laugh escapes me—uneven, tear-soaked. “Please don’t. Haddie Carmichael will catch it on camera and post it on the Cedar Falls Facebook page before the flames even die out.”
“Oh, honey. She’s probably preparing the drone now.”
Despite everything, I smile. It’s small, but it reaches places inside me that were starting to feel numb.
“I’ll see you in two weeks,” I whisper.
“We’ll be here,” she says softly. “Come home safe.”
I end the call and let the phone rest in my lap, my head tilted back against the car seat. Seattle has never felt smaller, or lonelier. The apartment. The canceled venue. The dress that will never be worn. It all feels like a life that doesn’t fit anymore, like a skin I’m ready to shed.
Two weeks. Two weeks, and I’ll be back in Cedar Falls—a town I swore I’d outgrown, but maybe it’s the only place that can make me feel whole again.
Chapter one
Brynn
Cedar Falls
Two Weeks Later
“Sothisiswhatstarting over looks like.”
I blow out a loud, dramatic sigh and collapse onto the carpeted floor of my childhood bedroom, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes, a zipped suitcase, and a mountain of leggings that’s taken the shape of a small landslide. Everything smells vaguely like vanilla and the ghost of teen girl anxiety.
