“You broke him, Sam,” she says softly.“You need to see it.He’s different now, and it’s because of you.”
I swallow hard, feeling my throat get tight.
Maybe I see it, but I still can’t speak.
God, I want to believe that this change is real—that he’s still trying, even when I won’t let him.
But believing means tearing down the wall I built around the part of me that still loves him.I have to risk it all again—my pride, my heart, and the tiny, fragile piece of trust he already shattered once.
And I don’t know if I’ll survive losing him twice.
Chapter 27
Reece
Coachofferedtocomewith me.He said he’d sit beside me and run interference if I needed it, especially if things got messy with my old man.I told him I’d handle it.
Now I’m sitting here wondering if I fucked that up, too.
The house is silent.The TV is muted, displaying a news anchor on the screen.It’s quiet enough to hear every second pass.I’m slumped on the couch, phone in hand, watching the screen, hoping that this time it will light up and she will reply to one of my texts.
I already know it’s a waste of time.
The last ten messages are still there—bubbles lined up in a row, each one a version of me trying and failing to get her back.
The last one said:
Reece: I’m sorry.I miss you.
Three days before that:
Reece: Please talk to me, Red.It’s not what you think.Fuck, Red, please let me explain.
I gave up trying two days ago.
Not because I wanted to, but because I had to.Watching my messages sit there unanswered started feeling worse than being told to fuck off.
I don’t know if she blocked me.My phone still delivers the texts, but there’s no response.It feels final, as if she erased me without ever pressing a button.
It’s not the knowing that kills me.It’s the empty space where she used to be.The silence that stretches endlessly until it settles in my chest and makes a home there.I wake up reaching for my phone.I go to sleep staring at it.Every quiet second reminds me she’s out there choosing to avoid me.
And the cruel part is I’m still fucking in love with her.Nothing shut that off.Not the shame or the regret over what I did.Or the way she looked at me when Jace said the words.
I throw the phone onto the couch cushions and press the heels of my hands into my eyes until sparks flash behind my eyelids.I should be riding the high right now.A scout from Mayfair wants me.I played the best game of my life.Coach has my back.
This is everything I’ve been chasing since I was a kid.
And all I feel is nothing.Nothing at all.
My chest is empty, hollow as hell.There’s no rush or victory lap.Just this dull ache that won’t go away no matter how hard I try to ignore it, because football isn’t the only thing I want anymore.
I want her too.
The front door creaks open and then slams shut so hard it rattles the frame.Heavy boots thud across the floorboards.I smell the alcohol on him before I even lay eyes on him.
My father, carrying a six-pack.
He doesn’t look at me as he drops his keys into the bowl on the bench or when he shrugs out of his jacket, muttering shit under his breath as if the world had personally wronged him on the way home.
