Our fairytale—like my heart—is crushed.
And somehow, like when I was a child, I need to pick up the pieces and put myself back together. No one else is going to do it for me.
I have to lean on myself.
But this time, I’m not four years old and utterly alone. This time, I have people in my corner.
I text Rosita from the car.
As soon as I step out with my bags, she’s running toward me. Two minutes later, we’re inside my apartment and tears are coming down my face.
“Sit down, honey, and tell me what’s going on with you.” She takes a seat on my couch and pats the empty space next to her.
As soon as I sit down, I’m crying on her shoulder.
I tell her about the deal Dylan and I made. I talk about our romantic nights in Arizona, about his house in Malibu, and then how he ended things so abruptly. Without giving too much detail, I fill her in on how he blames himself for a previous breakup. And I tell her I love him so much it hurts.
“Why does it have to hurt?” she asks me.
“I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “I truly don’t know. But Dylan made that choice. I opened up my heart to him, and he decided I wasn’t worth it.”
“I think he got scared,” she says as she hands me a pack of tissues from her purse. “Scared of losing you for good, and after what happened in his past, he thinks he’s protecting you.”
“And I feel like the door was slammed in my face all over again. It’s like I’m still lost in this one moment. The moment when I lost my mother. I just relived the pain once more.” I wipe my eyes with the tissue.
“Sounds like this is quite different.” Rosita narrows her gaze at me.
I look away.
“Sounds like the two of you found something people spend a lifetime searching for. I don’t blame you for being upset, honey. But I wouldn’t give up on this boy just yet. He thinks he’s doing this to watch out for you. And I don’t doubt it broke his heart as well.”
I sigh heavily and lean my head on her shoulder. “I know. But I couldn’t stop him.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Dylan
I wait until Jasalie disappears from my driveway, and then I barely make it inside the front door before I drop to my knees.
The tears fall harder than I can remember crying in years. I don’t typically lose control of my emotions. Part of being an MVP quarterback is staying calm in all situations. Part of being a good public figure is never letting your feelings show.
But right here, right now, in the private confines of my home, I fucking lose my shit.
I bawl like a baby at what I just did. I curse loudly as I stand up and hurl my sweatshirt through the foyer, followed by the football lying on the ground. It narrowly misses the window, but I don’t stop there. Not until I’ve torn apart the entire living room, and tossed couch cushions and pillows and anything in my path, do I collapse onto the chair in exhaustion.
Then I rewind in my mind what just happened in here, less than an hour ago, when I broke up with the love of my life.
What you’re really saying is that I’m not worth the risk.
That fucking crushed me.
Jasalie’s expression was filled with pain when she said those words, and I felt it, too. My father never thought I was worth the risk, and I know she suffered far worse in her own childhood. To think I cut her that deeply destroys me.
But the way she said it was so calm, the way a league scout would announce that his team had decided not to draft me. Except I was drafted high in the first round, and I wasn’t disappointed with any part of that day. Draft day was the fulfillment of my dreams.
I’ve always prided myself on being able to accomplish whatever goal I set out to achieve. But my dream of turning this affair with Jasalie into something permanent? That hasn’t worked out so well. I screwed up in the worst way possible—I ended things with the only person who makes me feel whole. And it’s all because I put her in the line of fire with the weekend photo ops in Tucson. Yes, I did that for my charity, not for some selfish motivation. But using her like that, even if it was a mutual pact, was the greatest mistake I ever made. I made her vulnerable to the public, and that’s something I can never forgive myself for.
I’ve lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And fighting for her isn’t an option right now. I can’t give her what she deserves—a life that’s safe and secure—and so I can’t have her at all.
