“No,” I said. “We don’t. But we’re going to try anyway.”
Jim’s gaze shot to me. “You love her?”
“Yes.”
“Enough to stay when things get hard?”
“Yes.”
“What happens if we trade you or if you get offered a better deal somewhere else?”
“Then we figure it out together.”
“That simple?”
“It’s that complicated. But I’m not walking away from her. Not for the team or for my career.” I looked at Haley. “Not for anything.”
Jim’s shoulders sagged.
“I need time,” he finally said. “Both of you need to leave.”
Haley’s breath hitched.
“Dad—”
“Please.” The word came out broken. “I just… I need to think.”
Haley turned and walked to the door. I followed.
We were halfway down the walkway when Jim called out. “Haley.”
She stopped and turned.
He stood in the doorway, backlit by the entryway light.
“I’ve always been proud of you,” he said. “Even when you were invisible.”
Her face crumpled, hope and hurt tangling together.
But he didn’t say anything else. Just closed the door.
I drove home. Haley stared out the window, tears sliding down her face.
Everything I wanted to say felt inadequate. There was nothing I could say that would fix this.
Beau met us at the door with his usual enthusiasm, jumping and spinning and making sounds that suggested we’d abandoned him for years instead of an hour.
Haley picked him up and buried her face in his fur. She started crying again, softer. It gutted me.
I guided her to the bedroom, and we lay down facing each other, Beau wedged between us. I pulled her close, tucking her head under my chin.
Neither of us was hungry. Food felt impossible.
The room darkened as evening turned to night. Beau eventually relocated to his bed in the corner, leaving us alone.
“What if we did all this, and I still lose both of you?” Haley whispered.
I pulled her closer. “I promise you won’t lose me.”
