Is he trying to talk me out of it? “Sure, and who knows. Maybe you’ll get an offer from an American team.”
He laughs, but it’s humorless. “Oh there’ve been offers from American teams, but they don’t have the budget or the record of a team I want to play for. I won’t sign with an American team, Marissa.” His eyes cast down to the floor, maybe waiting for me to argue.
“Oh.” It’s probably not the answer he wanted, but it’s all I have. I’d kind of secretively been holding out hope he’d sign for one of the close local teams. I’ve spent a few minutes… okay hours at work researching the different teams he could play for here in the states.
He turns me in his arms so we’re chest to chest. “I have to make sure you’re okay with this, Marissa. It will be a new country with a sport that takes up the majority of a player's time, but I want you at my games. I need someone’s support. Ineedyour support if we do this.”
What he isn’t saying out loud is he’s pretty much asking me to give up everything to follow him around the globe while he makes a shit load of money to kick a ball into a net.
“You must be one hundred percent in with me.” He breaks into my thoughts.
Am I willing to be one hundred percent with Ryland on this? Give up my life here to focus on him? For a few seconds I panic, but it doesn’t last long until I realize I am. It’s probably crazy and there might come a time when I kick myself, but I want to at least give this thing between us a shot. I want to enjoy this burrito in life. I can always find a new job in marketing, but how often will I get the chance to follow my soccer star boyfriend to new places?
When I raise my head and meet his eyes, my answer is as easy as the smile growing on my face. “I’m in, Ryland.”
“For real?” His self-doubt creeps into the question.
“For real. It will be an adjustment for sure, but I’ll give it a shot.” And who knows maybe he’ll end up in Mexico. I could practically jump across the border with a quick flight to San Francisco when I need to.
I promised to never make a decision based on a guy again, but here I am jumping in with both feet. Isn’t that what life is about? What good is love if you can’t follow your heart and see where the journey leads you? Ryland makes me want to throw caution to the wind and follow him to the ends of the earth. It’s time for me to take the plunge and not look back.
A year ago I thought I loved Cody, but now I understand our relationship for what it was. Comfort. This thing… the pit at the base of my stomach that tightens whenever Ryland’s near, is all consuming. It’s not about what our relationship looks like on the outside, but about what we feel on the inside. I want Ryland to be happy, and I want it to be me who makes him happy.
Soccer’s important to him. Ryland’s done a good job of hiding it, but there’s more going on at his place than he realizes. I've seen him watching the highlight reels after games. The notifications he gets on his phone of scores or other soccer news. He pretends he’s walked away from the game, but it’s there, waiting to remind him what he's missing every day.
Sometimes after he checks his phone and he’s reading a highlight, his eyes gloss over. During others his nose scrunches up from reading an article I presume he finds displeasing. I’ve walked in on the phone calls with teammates while they're discussing another player or other team drama. He might not be on the roster for United any longer, but he’ll always be a part of the team.
I’ve never felt such devotion to anything related to marketing in the same way. There are one to two coworkers I may keep in touch with, but I won’t miss much from the office. It may seem like a hard decision for some, but I’m getting the chance to trade in my grey cubical and travel the world with a guy I love. In the end, the decision’s an easy one.
“And I only have a few more years of playing left. Five, maybe ten tops. Then we’ll retire wherever you want.”
“I’ll be okay, Ryland.” I laugh and grab on to a piece of his black shirt. “We’ll come back here and you can coach the kids at the center in your free time. You know, when you aren’t kayaking in the living room.”
He laughs with me over the memory. “The kids have been fun.” He reaches up and rubs his hand over his short hair.
“You’re a good coach. Even Clare says you have a way with the kids.”
He stares out into the expanse of city in front of us lost in thought. A light from the large open window catches his eye, causing him to blink, and I can’t stop myself from squeezing him tighter. I won’t interrupt our moment to ask what he's thinking about, but my own thoughts wander to our future.
Our server — who delivered Trey a steak about an hour ago — picks up the last of our dirty dishes and drink glasses with a reminder the restaurant closes in ten minutes.
The six of us stand and start the walk to the elevator, Aspen not as graceful on her three-inch heels after a long night and four glasses of wine. Two people who should be in our group are still conspicuously missing. Grant and Clare never showed, despite his texts to Finn they were getting one drink and then catching a new cab.
Ryland lets everyone else on the elevator before us and pulls me to the side to wait for the next one. “All right, Marissa, I had fun tonight but it wasn’t everything you promised. You have an appointment with a pair of cuffs.” His smile is wicked and teasing as he stares down at me.
I yawn in a dramatic fashion with a hand over my mouth. “But, Ryland, it’s so late. Aren’t you exhausted?”
The elevator door opens in front of us. “We’ll get you a coffee on the way home.” With our fingers twined together, he pulls me with him into the space. He waits for the doors to close again before he leans down, taking my face in both his hands and kissing me.
I brace myself against the wall expecting more, but he pulls away and we’re standing side by side like a nice normal couple before the doors open on the first floor where everyone else waits for us.
