Page 68 of Your Love

My admiration for her courage and resilience only grows stronger. “That’s incredible, Paisley,” I tell her sincerely. “What else have you been up to? Are you involved in any sports? Any boyfriends you need to tell me about?” I lift an eyebrow in question.

She shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “No sports for me,” she says. “I prefer to focus on my art. But yes, I do have a boyfriend. He actually plays for the Mavericks, and coincidentally, my brother happens to be his coach. Sometimes, I think my brother puts extra pressure on him because of that.”

I lean back and burst into laughter, my hands cupping my stomach. “The image of your brother coaching your boyfriend is almost too much to handle. I never even knew Landry was coaching,” I confess.

“He picked it up after his playing days were over and hasn’t stopped since.”

It takes me a moment to process this information. “Wait, he doesn’t play anymore? Did he get injured or something?”

Paisley’s expression turns solemn as she responds, “You mean he never told you?”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Told me what?”

With a heavy sigh, she begins to explain, “That summer when you had your accident, and Landry went back to Texas for a few weeks—well, he got replaced on the team and never earned his spot back.”

Nausea twists in my stomach. “I had no idea.” Images flash through my mind—asking him if it was okay for him to stay, his promise to stay forever if I needed him to—and I feel sick with guilt.

“It’s okay,” Paisley says. “He was never meant to be a professional player anyway. Coaching is where his heart truly lies. You can’t take that on yourself.”

I press my lips together, trying to hold back tears. “Easier said than done,” I croak out. My eyes drift towards the field in front of us, watching the gentle sway of the grass in the breeze. “I saw him yesterday.”

Paisley’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “How did that go?”

My shoulders slump. “He hates me,” I admit, my voice barely audible. “And I don’t blame him.”

Paisley places her hand over mine. “He doesn’t hate you.”

“It’s not just about our relationship,” I confess. “I walked away from my best friend.”

“You had to do what was best for yourself,” Paisley reassures me. I’m not sure where she gets her wisdom from at seventeen years old. I wish I had been more like her at that age.

“I know, but I still messed up.”

“Do you want to try and make things right?” she asks softly.

My heart aches with longing for that to be possible. “More than anything,” I reply. “But I don’t fit into his life anymore. He has a girlfriend now, and I don’t want to make things difficult.”

Paisley’s voice is solemn as she speaks. “That’s part of the reason I came by,” she says, her eyes fixed on mine. “He doesn’t just have a girlfriend anymore. He has a fiancée.”

My heart lurches. “What? Since when?”

“It’s a very recent development,” Paisley reveals. “Very rushed and very recent.” She releases a deep breath. “ Look, Lauren isn’t the worst person I’ve ever met, but I also don’t think she’s the right person for Landry. She’s too controlling. I think he’s been lulled into a sense of comfort with her, but deep down, I know they shouldn’t get married.”

“Have you told him how you feel?”

Paisley shifts in her seat. “Not in so many words. But I truly believe it would be a mistake for him to marry her when it’s clear that he belongs with you.”

Her words hit me like a sharp blade piercing through my heart. A small part of me still holds onto hope, but reality quickly sets in. “It’s too late, Paisley. Too much time has passed. We don’t have a future anymore. If he’s getting married to someone else, I have to accept that.”

Paisley’s expression softens as she speaks again. “But what if it’s not too late? What if there’s still a chance for you two?”

Before I can respond, she drops another bombshell. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone this, but Landry and Lauren are eloping. They’re getting married in Hawaii on Saturday.”

My mouth goes dry as I process this new information, my mind whirling with thoughts and doubts. Paisley reads my expression like an open book. “I know you’re not okay with this,” she says gently.

I try to remain composed as I speak my words, though my voice wavers with emotion. “It doesn’t matter if I’m okay with it or not,” I tell her, fighting back tears. “I made a choice, and now he’s made a choice. It doesn’t matter what I think.”

She leans in closely, her eyes imploring me to reconsider. “But what if it does?” she presses. “What if your thoughts and feelings do matter? It’s clear that you still care about my brother, and I know he feels the same for you.”