Fair enough. Noble even. But it still doesn’t explain her actions.
“Okay. So you could’ve easily withdrawn from the interview process or declined the position. You didn’t have to throw the broadcast.”
“You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”
Tears shine in her eyes and the sight of them splinters my heart. The urge to go to her, to take her in my arms, strikes hard and fast, but I force myself to remain still.
“When I set foot on that stage, it solidified my decision. I looked in to the camera and I just knew. It wasn’t right for me.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “I watched your broadcast. I saw the passion and energy you brought to the set, and I didn’t feel that.”
And there it is.
“So you decided to throw me a bone? Give me a little extra help?”
“It wasn’t like that,” she says, voice rising an octave. “I’m not used to confiding in other people. Not about the big stuff.” She takes a step toward me and then catches herself. “I’m still figuring out how this all works, but I should have realized how my actions would look from the outside. How they would affect you.”
I want to believe her. Want to believe her actions had nothing to do with pity and everything to do with choosing her own path.
But how can I be sure?
How can you be sure of anything?
I can’t. That’s the problem.
A chant floats down the tunnel and it takes me a second to recognize my own name.
“Parker! Parker! Parker!”
Sutton’s eyes go round and she tilts her head, listening intently. “Are they calling your name?”
“Sounds like it.”
Fuck. I’m not ready. I need more time. Time to figure this out. Time to sort out my thoughts. Just…time.
But the universe is a dick, and time is the one thing in short supply right now.
The Wildcat appears at the mouth of the tunnel, giving an exaggerated wave that I’m pretty sure meansGet your ass in gear.
“It sounds like you’re needed on the field.” Sutton smiles, but it’s a washed-out imitation of the real thing, lacking her usual warmth and mischief. “I guess you should go.”
I should. I really fucking should. I have obligations to my team. To the fans. To myself.
“Yeah.” I nod, and it’s a struggle to force the words past my lips. “I guess so.”
Sutton hands me my helmet and our fingers brush, a final jolt of electricity passing between us. Then I do the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
I walk away from the woman I love.
48
SUTTON
Devin stalks toward the field,his cleatstap tap tappingon the cement. There’s no “Goodbye.” No “Let’s talk later.” Not even an “I’ll text you.”
I watch him go, willing him to turn around, and as he disappears through the tunnel, my heart breaks all over again.
We’re done. We’re really done.
I knew it might end this way. Tried to prepare for the worst. But can you really prepare to have your heart ripped out?
