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I sat backon my couch, staring at the screen, feeling the finality of that message.
Mia had done it. She’d convinced the board and reached her goal. Pride roared through my chest, beating out my own selfish disappointment. No matter what was going on with us, she kept succeeding. Just another testament to the woman she was.
I opened my phone to call her and tell her congratulations, but just before I hit send, I realized I couldn’t. We’d yet to discuss what had happened. So I opened our text thread, my heart aching at the last messages we sent each other.
She was saying how excited she was to meet my family.
I couldn’t handle texting her again, breaking this time capsule of when things were good for us.
So I put my phone down, knowing I’d see her tomorrow at the game and still having no idea what I would say.
I knewI’d need to sit out this week's game, but that knowledge hadn’t lessened the blow of pacing on the sidelines all four hours of the game. I had never been more upset or disgusted with myself in my years as a professional football player.
It was worse than losing the Super Bowl.
Especially glancing back to the Griffen Industries’ box and knowing Mia was at the game. I couldn’t see her—she never drew close to the window—but I could feel her presence just as surely as I could feel the itch of my healing skin.
It seemed like the game dragged for five days instead of hours. The only consolation of the day was a win on the scoreboard, even if it was narrow. How I was still standing, I didn’t know. I just barely made it back to the locker-room hallway where I always met my family after games. This time, my heart felt as heavy as my situation as I approached them. They were all here, from my dad to my brothers, sisters-in-law, and nieces and nephew.
When I got close enough, Dad gave me a hug, then Emily came up to me. “Did I stand on the sidelines good enough for you?” I half-heartedly teased.
She hugged me in response.
I had to swallow down the lump in my throat to keep from crying as my niece held me in her arms. A hug was exactly what I needed.
I was blinking back tears as I thanked everyone for coming and gave them big hugs goodbye.
But as they made their way out of the building, I realized there would be no more stalling.
It was time to see Mia.
I slowly made my way on crutches to the Griffen Industries’ suite. Each step felt like a mile when I knew she was at the end.
I wanted to see her, but at the same time, I knew it would be a painful reminder of what I lost.
Was I strong enough?
Only walking inside would be my answer. I took a deep breath, standing outside the door. Mia’s voice was warm as she said goodbye to someone I didn’t recognize. With them out the door, I stepped inside the suite to find her alone, looking over the football field while two workers cleaned up the space, removing drinks and snacks.
I closed the door behind me, and the sound drew her attention.
Our gazes collided, caught, before her eyes tracked down to my foot, kept in a black boot just as an extra precaution.
But instead of speaking to me, she addressed the suite attendants. “May we have a moment?”
Within seconds, the people working the room were gone. It was just the two of us.
“How long are you out for?” she asked.
My heart ached. So many things between us, so much to say. And this is what we were left with. “I'm hoping my doctor will clear me to practice next week,” I managed. “We’ll see.”
“Oh.” An awkward silence as she picked up a few stray beer cans and carried them to the trash can. Just another little way she was incredible. I wanted to tell her that. But I was frozen, leaning on my crutches.
How had I gone from telling her that I loved her to not knowing how to even stand around her? I regripped the crutches, wishing I could just hold on to her, apologize for everything that I’d done. That it would be enough.
“You acquired the Andersen sisters?” I said, if only to stay in her presence a little bit longer.
She nodded. “That's why I left early. Thomas changed the meeting date, and I had to present to the board on Monday morning... We're finalizing paperwork tomorrow.”