Page 54 of Hometown Touchdown
“Yeah,” I say, eyes scanning the room. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Because maybe I haven’t racked up a win tonight, but I’ve built something. And for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I have to be the angry guy in order to be respected. I just have to show up, steady. The kind of man these boys might grow into someday.
The kind of man Brynn used to believe I could be. The man I hope she still thinks I can be.
I shake the thought loose and bend to grab my bag. My phone buzzes once, a text from Ty, something about pizza waiting at his place. I tell him I’ll catch up.
But as I walk out under those darkening Friday night skies, I don’t head straight to my truck. I stand at the edge of the field, hands in my jacket pockets, watching the last of the kids filter out. Parents calling names. Cleats thudding on pavement.
The moon is just beginning to rise, and it hits me how much has changed. How muchI’vechanged. And maybe, I’m ready for more than football wins and Friday nights. Maybe I’m ready for a second shot at the life I once wanted.
Chapter twenty-six
Brynn
Thebathroommirrorisunforgiving. I watch myself trace the line of my jaw, wondering if it still holds the same stubborn set it had when I was eighteen, daring the world to knock me down. Today, though, that stubbornness feels fragile—like a whisper under the weight of everything I’m about to face.
Driving to Roanoke to meet Knox stirs a mix of nerves and memories I thought I’d locked away. I tell myself it’s just a meeting, a chance to lay it all on the line, to see if the man I once loved still exists beneath the surface of this small town. But my heart knows it’s more than that. It always is with him.
The past rushes in before I can stop it. Henry’s voice echoes, cold and cruel, cutting through the silence of an afternoon that I still replay in my mind.“You’ll never be a mother.”The words landed like stones in my chest, breaking the fragile hope I’d been nurturing.“I want a woman who can give me a family. This isn’t the future I want.”
I had just come from the doctor’s appointment in which I had received my premature ovarian insufficiency diagnosis. He didn’t ask how I was doing, he just started into the reasons it affected him.
I never felt so alone in someone else’s presence as I did in that moment.
I remember the numbness that came first—the hollow, echoing silence of it all. Like my body kept moving, but something inside me had gone still. There were nights I cried until I couldn't anymore, curled up and wondering if I'd ever feel whole again. But I also remember the slow shift. Not a lightning bolt moment, just little choices. The way I’d stand in front of my mirror back in Seattle, puffy-eyed and trembling, whispering that I wasn’t broken. That it wouldn’t define me. That I was still a strong and sexy woman. That there were other avenues to becoming a mother. And eventually, those whispers grew louder than the sadness. I stopped letting that diagnosis be the only thing I saw when I looked at myself.
It’s not easy to carry those memories into the present, especially tonight, when every heartbeat feels amplified by a mix of fear and something dangerously like hope. I wonder if Knox sees me as I am now—wiser, more guarded, maybe even a little bruised. Or if he’s still haunted by the girl who walked away.
I brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear and catch my reflection again. The woman staring back is not the same one Henry tried to erase. She’s someone who’s fought her way through disappointment and found a flicker of strength shedidn’t know she had. Someone who’s learned that worth isn’t tied to the promises of others, but to the love you hold for yourself.
I tell myself to breathe. To stop doubting. To show up not as the scared girl who lost everything, but as the woman who’s still standing—still ready to take a chance.
Even if it’s just for dinner at a roadside diner with Knox.
I reach for a dress—deep purple, bold enough to be noticed. I’ll probably sick out like a sore thumb walking into a little diner in one of my best dresses. But tonight feels important regardless of the location. It’s not about impressing anyone but me. It’s about saying, without words, that I’m here. That I’m not hiding. That no matter what happens, I’m ready.
And, if it drives Knox crazy, that’s just icing on the cupcake.
I take one last look in the mirror, steadying the flutter in my chest. The past may have shaped me, but it won’t hold me captive. Tonight, I’m stepping into something new—something uncertain, but entirely mine.
And with that thought, I grab my keys and purse, ready to face whatever comes next.
Chapter twenty-seven
Knox
TheroadtoRoanokestretches out like it’s got something to prove—long, winding, and just smug enough to give a guy too much time alone with his thoughts.
I drum my fingers against the steering wheel and glance at the clock on the dash for the fifth time in three minutes. I’m early, which is no surprise. I’ve never been late to anything in my life, but tonight I’ve outdone myself. I’m already halfway there and somehow still convinced I’ll screw this up.
Out loud, to no one but the empty cab, I mutter, “It’s just dinner.”
Right. Just dinner. With the woman I’ve spent the last six years trying not to think about—and failing. The woman who left and took every plan I had for the future right along with her.
My hands tighten around the wheel.
I need to say something tonight. Not just smile like nothing happened. Not just small talk and safe jokes and “how’ve you been?” crap.
