“You had a good time tonight,” he said.
“I did. Did you?”
“Yes.” He nodded, then added, “Well, except for your sister-in-law stepping on my foot a dozen times during the Cupid Shuffle. If I can’t run the forty during my tryouts, it’s probably because she broke my little toe.”
“Oh no,” Taylor laughed. “I noticed you wincing a few times tonight. You should have told me. I would have rescued you.”
His amusement faded, a somber, pensive expression taking its place.
“No,” he said, the sudden rasp in his voice sending pinpricks of unease down Taylor’s spine. “That’s um . . . that’s not why I was wincing. And it’s not why I won’t be able to run the forty-yard dash.”
She frowned, her anxiety ratcheting up even more as he took her by the hand and led her to the sofa.
“You’re scaring me,” Taylor said.
“Don’t be,” he said. “There’s nothing for you to be scared about. Me, on the other hand . . . yeah, I’m a little scared.”
“Would you please stop with the vague bullshit and tell me what’s going on!” She glanced toward her parents’ bedroom, then lowered her voice. “Tell me,” she said.
He rested his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands together. Releasing a deep breath, he finally said, “A few weeks ago, I felt something in my knee.”
Her stomach dropped. “Something like what?”
“It started as a pinch, but the ache has gradually progressed.” He tapped his fingers against his lips, then looked over at her. “I’m scared my knee won’t hold up.”
“How long has this been happening?”
“Since Mount Bonnell,” he said. “Maybe a little before.”
“Jamar,” she said in a fierce, accusatory whisper. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You know why, Taylor. Because you would have stopped the training.”
“Of course I would have stopped. I’ve read nearly everything there is to read about your injury; I know how devastating it would be if you suffered another blow to your knee. There would be no coming back from that kind of damage, Jamar.”
“I know,” he said. “I just have so much riding on this.”
The agony in his voice tore at her heart, but this could not be up for debate.
“It’s not worth it. Nothing is worth you permanently injuring yourself. Youhaveto know this.” Taylor cupped his jaw in her hands. “I’m so sorry this is happening, because I know how hard you’ve worked. But you can’t do this to yourself.”
She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his. In a pained whisper, she asked, “Do you think Silas would want you to put your body in jeopardy because of him?”
“It’s not just about Silas,” he said. “I told you, it’s about me leaving on my own terms.”
“So if you make it through that tryout and onto a team, what makes you think you wouldn’t get carted off the field in the very first game? That’s the risk you’re willing to take?”
His eyes fell shut, the corded muscles in his neck constricting as he swallowed. His anguish was a tangible thing in the room.
Taylor squeezed his hand, her soul aching for him. She wished more than anything that she could fix this, but some things just weren’t meant to be. This was one of them. She had to get him to see that his health was more important than playing football again.
But before she could conjure up a new argument, he said, “I’ll call Micah in the morning, before we leave for the airport. If I can’t get through a line dance, I sure as hell won’t get through any team’s training camp.”
The relief that crashed through her took her breath away. She should feel guilty, knowing how hard this was for him. But all she could feel was the tension ebbing from her body.
Still holding his hand, she rested her head against his shoulder. There were no words, no platitudes she could utter that would make this better for him. All she could offer was her presence and hope that it would be enough.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
