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Abby swallowed, her throat bobbing, but her grip slightly relaxed in his.
“I got my dates for training camp last week. I have to be in Springfield starting on the twenty-second.”
“Huh, really? I thought it started on the sixteenth.”
Scott snorted. “Rookiesreport on the sixteenth.”
“Right, sorry. I knew that. Okay, the twenty-second. How long?”
“Six weeks.”Assuming I don’t get cut. Or traded,remained unspoken.
He didn’t have many superstitions, especially compared to some of the other players he’d seen, but he never put words to a possibility he didn’t want to consider.
If he didn’t measure up to the coach’s expectations, if a trade would grant the team a concession better than his ball skills, if the back-up suddenly exploded with new skills he’d never had before... his stint in Charleston would be over, contract or not. Then he’d have to leave his home, the place he loved, uprooting Dylan and their whole lives, leaving Abby.
He frowned. He wouldn’t allow it to happen.
Stay focused.
“Six weeks. That’s...a long time. I mean, I understood, in a theoretical sense, but I’d neverthoughtabout it.” Abby chewed her lip.
“Well, I mean, training camp is only the first few weeks, but pre-season runs through the end of August, so...”
No matter which way you cut it, the chaos of mid-July until the start of the regular season couldn’t be matched by any other time of year. It wasn’t the most exhausting; that would come around Thanksgiving as injuries stacked up, bye weeks were long past, and the interminable stretch to post-season loomed over teams in contention. Still, twelve to fourteen-hour days, two-a-day practices, scrimmages... He barely had time to eat and sleep during those first, all-important weeks.
“Lauren moves in when I leave for Springfield, then stays until the season starts. I try to get home most days, but, honestly, it’s a lot of late nights and early mornings. Even on my days off, I end up sleeping most of the day...”
“No, it’s fine. I get it. This is your job, and you love it. You have to do what you have to do.” Though she didn’t meet his gaze, the resolute tone in her voice reassured him. “You wouldn’t expect me to skip Gen’s training for you.”
“Gen’s training isn’t six weeks of hell.”
She shrugged. “No, but the point remains.”
“Dylan will go to his mom’s for a week or so early in August. It’s always worked out well that way.”
Another topic they hadn’t discussed, and one he needed to bring up sooner rather than later, but he didn’t think he’d have time before reporting to Springfield.
Scott sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He couldn’t help wishing the honeymoon period had lasted longer, cementing this thing growing between them. Would Abby even want to stick around after she got a first-hand view of the life of an NFL WAG?
God, he hated that term—wives and girlfriends—hated to think about how many of his friends had lost the people they loved to the game. The cost to play was high.
As if she could hear his thoughts, Abby sighed and cocked her head, considering. “Well, Gen and I are pretty self-sufficient. We’ve learned to be. I’ll miss you, but we can text, right?” He nodded. “And maybe call sometimes?” He nodded again. “There we go, then. It’ll be like a long-distance relationship. And if you have time and want me to come by, then we’ll come over, and if not, that’s okay, too. Dylan needs you more than I do.”
“Are you sure? It’s brutal, this process. A lot of girls—women—they can’t handle it. I wouldn’t blame you if...” He trailed off. Why was he convincing her to bail?
Abby gazed at Dylan and Gen, a slight smile playing over her features. “Well, I can’t promise I won’t feel differently on the other side, but six weeks isn’t too long, all things considered. Not as long as med school and residency, anyway. And we have plenty to keep us busy. Unless you...?”
“No, I want this. I want us. But I know how hard it is, and I don’t want to drag you through it if...”
“If I’m not ready. If I’m not all in. And if I’m going to bail later, anyway, it’d be easier if I did it, now.”
His throat went dry, his thoughts echoed in her words, anxious that, in spite of all she’d said, she would change her mind. Her veiled reference to the sacrifices she’d made for her late husband’s career hadn’t escaped his notice, either.
Will’s presence remained a ghost between them.
How do you exorcise an ex-husband?Scott winced. Probably the same way you did an ex-wife, and if Will remained a barrier between them, at least his name was out in the open. Lindsay...
Scott shook his head. He wouldn’t let her mar this moment with Abby. They’d have time to discuss his ex-wife. He’d make time.