Page 43 of Hometown Halftime

“Hanging in there. She has off today, so I have some free time.”

He nods slowly. “And your siblings?”

“Good. Busy. Exhausting,” I say, smiling. “I try to keep them busy, so they don’t ask too many questions about Dad.”

Knox shifts forward, forearms on his knees. “I bet that’s rough. Proud of you though, taking all this in stride.”

The words land deeper than he knows. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” he says. “I mean it, Riley. I know it’s hard right now, but you’re handling this better than some people my age would.”

I take a steady breath and run a hand through my hair. “I just didn’t see this coming. I thought I’d finish the season. Finish school. Figure out what the hell comes next.”

“And your father pulled the pin on the grenade that blew all that up,” Knox finishes.

I stare at the floor. “Yeah. I love coaching, but some days I see the lights on the field and it just...hurts.”

He lets a few beats pass before he speaks again. “Riley, what you’re doing for your family is a huge sacrifice for you. But don’t lose yourself in it.”

I look up at him then and see something in his eyes I didn’t expect—concern. Not for the assistant coach he recruited, but for me, the kid he coached at sixteen.

“You love football,” he says quietly.

“Yeah.” My voice comes out rougher than I intended. “I do.”

“And you’re good with the team,” he adds. “Coaching suits you more than you realize.”

“I like it,” I admit. “More than I thought I would.”

“But that’s not what you’re destined for.”

I open my mouth, close it, and think before I try again. “I know.”

He nods. “Don’t let go of your dreams because your father made a mess.”

A tightness grips my chest as I feel the frustration and confusion that I haven’t let myself work through yet.

Knox leans back, studying me with patience. “Are you close to finishing your degree?”

“Two semesters,” I mumble.

“Then do it,” he says simply. “Even if it’s slow. Even if it takes time to figure out how to balance everything. You deserve to finish something for yourself. And even in the best cases, the Pros aren’t guaranteed. You need something to fall back on.”

I swallow hard. No one’s said it like that before. Everyone’s been so relieved I came home that no one thought of asking what it cost me.

Knox rests an ankle on his knee. “Listen, Weston. You’ve always carried more than most kids your age. But you don’t have to choose between being a good son and having the life you want.”

Coach Knox never sugar coats anything, it’s something I appreciate about him. But in this weird version of a halftime speech, he’s making me pause and think.

He glances at me. “And about yesterday.”

“Kinsey?”

“Yeah,” he confirms. “She’s okay. Brynn’s with her now.”

Relief hits so fast I blink.

Knox’s gaze sharpens. “You two have become close pretty quickly.”