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“They released me.”
“When?” she asks through a clenched jaw.
“Before I went to New York.”
“And you didn’t bother to tell me?” she demands.
“I needed to deal with the reality of it myself first.”
“You didn’t think to share that with the woman you’re going to marry?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. Because I can’t marry you, Amelia.” My chest thunders as the words fall from my lips.
“Excuse me? Then what is this?” she asks, holding up her left hand and pointing to the ring I gave her.
A mistake?
I don’t say that.
“I fell in love with you, and it was a whirlwind. But things changed when I gave you that ring, and I realized we rushed into things.”
She turned into someone else. She went from the girl courting the football player to being very comfortable in our relationship, and I think this is the woman I’m set to marry—not the one who worked so hard to pursue me.
And I don’t like this version of her. I can’t spend forever with this woman—with someone who lies and manipulates.
Some guys in the league have reputations. But that’s not me. It’s never been me. I’m not really into long-term relationships, either. Amelia has been my longest. Instead, I just put the focus on football and kind of left it there.
“Rushed into things? We dated for a year before you asked me to marry you!” she protests.
“Right. Six months of which I was focused on the season rather than on our relationship. I’m sorry. I made a mistake when I asked you to marry me.” I realize I’m not being clear enough. I don’t want to be with her at all anymore. “I’m ending this relationship.”
She gasps as her hands fly to her mouth, and then she rushes over to sit beside me on the couch like I asked her to do a few minutes ago. She takes my hand between hers. “Spencer, no! You can’t do that to me! To us! I love you!”
“I know, Amelia. But this isn’t working for me anymore.”
“You’re just overwhelmed because of the release. Your future is unsure, and I get it. Don’t do this. Don’t rush into this kind of decision,” she begs.
“I’m so sorry. I’m not rushing into it. It’s been over a long time, and I’m ready to make a clean break so I can move on,” I say.
She starts to cry, and I knew that would happen. I braced for it.
It’s not going to work this time.
“But we have our whole future planned out. You can’t do this to me,” she wails.
“Sometimes plans change.”
She starts to sob, and I’m not sure what else I can do. “Please, Spencie. Please don’t do this.”
“It’s over.” I stick firmly to my words just as my mom advised me to do when the waterworks started.
Her lip quivers even as she sort of bares her teeth at me. “Fine, then. Get out.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said get out,” she hisses.
Gladly. “I’ll just…I’ll go sit by the firepit for a bit if you want to come talk.” I stand and head out of the office, and even though I’m leaving a woman I care about crying behind me, I can’t help but feel a huge burden lifted as I walk toward the mansion, around back, and toward the firepits.
