Maybe he’s seeing someone. That would explain the sudden threads upgrade and the weird warmth. I’m pretty sure Mack’s been a grumpy single man since I got married.
“What?” I say with a sigh. That tone tells me I’m probably not going to like what he says, but he’s going to say it anyway.
Nice to know some things haven’t changed where Mack is concerned.
“We’ve been friends, what? Like ten, twelve years, right?” he says, not looking at me. I shrug.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“So like, I’ve kind of watched you play this game for a long time,” he says, shifting his gaze to the driveway.
“What game?” I ask.
“Life,” he says softly. “I’ve been watching you for years. You play your ass off, there’s no doubt about that, but your problem is every time you get close to the goal, you choke.”
I turn to look at him with a surprised expression. “Excuse me?” I say, anxiety swelling within me.
“What I mean is…” He sucks in a breath, silently cursing as he runs a hand through his hair.
“Fuck, this isn’t easy for me, man—” he says, and I cross my arms. I’m not sure what he’s trying to say or do, exactly. But I remain quiet, because it looks like he needs to say something.Though I’m not sure I want to hear it if he keeps insulting me in the process.
“You’ve been getting pummeled for a while, and I think… you just decided to sit on the bench and stop playing. Altogether.”
“Are you saying I gave up?” I ask, feeling strangely on the spot. “On my marriage, on my—” I sigh. “Because I know I—”
Mack purses his lips. “No, you didn’t give up. You were just afraid you’d never make the goal, so you benched yourself.” He lets out a deep sigh. “Thing is, Austen, you keep forgetting one very important thing.”
I scoff, shaking my head. The birds chirp and the sun is shining and it’s a beautiful day.
“What’s that?” I turn to face him.
Mack smirks. “You’re a fucking wide receiver, man. You weremadefor the long shot.”
I have to chuckle a bit at his metaphor.
“This isn’t college anymore, Mack.”
“No, you’re right, it’s not. This is the fucking championship game, man. The big leagues. It’s comeback time.”
I let out a laugh, and then it gets quiet. Neither of us say anything, just sit for a moment, unmoving, until he nudges my shoulder softly.
“Take the shot.” His voice is serious. More serious than I’ve ever heard him.
My eyes instantly want to well with tears because the sincerity in his voice is more than I can handle right now.
His words settle on me, and I feel their weight.Take the shot. Go after what you want.
Go after him.
“What if I miss?” I ask, feeling my chest tighten.
“You won’t,” he says. “Just get off the fucking bench and play the game.”
Before I can respond, he gets up, stretching his arms over his head.
“Better get back in there before he gets into too much trouble,” he says with a grin, and I can’t help but smile.
“Yeah, right.”
