Page 110 of Love, Literature, and the Linebacker

“I get that,” she says gently. “But you didn’t get where you are by accident, Dylan. You’re right on the edge of the life you’ve been working toward.”

I nod, because she’s right. She usually is.

“I just don’t want this to be the moment everything starts slipping away,” I admit. “My family hasn’t felt this normal, if I can even call it that, in a long time.”

She smiles softly, her fingers brushing the edge of the towel at my waist. “Then don’t treat going back like losing this,” she says. “This still exists when we leave Dallas.”

I lean down and kiss her, slow and grateful. She always knows how to calm me without making me feel small.

***

I stand in the driveway a little longer than necessary, watching Lucy and Gemma buckle into the car. Gemma’s practically vibrating with excitement, already talking a mile a minute about the food bank. Lucy turns in her seat and gives me one last smile before Gemma pulls away.

I wave until the car disappears down the street.

Then, I head back inside, that familiar pull settling in again. We’ll only be apart a few hours, but real distance might be waiting for us down the road. And that’s not something I can ignore any longer.

I find Mom in the kitchen, rinsing dishes, humming softly. She looks up when she hears me.

“Gemma’s so excited she’s spending the morning with Lucy,” she says lightly.

“Yeah,” I reply. “Lucy seemed excited, too.”

Mom studies me for a moment, then dries her hands on a towel. “You’re really serious about her, aren’t you?”

I don’t hesitate. “Yeah. I am.”

She smiles, but there’s thoughtfulness behind it now. “That’s good, Dylan. I can see how much she means to you. But I need to ask. Are you already making decisions around a future that hasn’t happened yet?”

“I’m trying to prepare.”

“No, you’re trying to control it.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Your father mentioned that you’ve been worrying about what happens after graduation.”

I shift my weight, suddenly feeling like I’m being examined. “I’ve just been thinking… if I end up across the country, and she’s still back home, that’s a lot to ask of both of us.”

“I’m not telling you to choose football over Lucy,” Mom says. “I’m telling you not to make a permanent decision because you’re afraid of a temporary distance.”

I look away.

“You deserve a life that has room for both,” she continues. “But you have to let the opportunities arrive before you decide what they cost.”

“Whatever happens, I’m not treating her like an afterthought.”

Her expression softens. “Wanting a future with someone doesn’t mean sacrificing your own. You deserve both, Dylan.”

I nod, even though the knot in my chest doesn’t loosen.

“I just want to do this right.”

She squeezes my arm once, reassuring. “Love Lucy. Pursue football. When a real decision arrives, make it with her instead of making it for both of you now.”

When she turns back to the sink, I stay where I am, staring at the counter.

I know she’s right.