Page 87 of Worth the Shot

He continues, “The girl who loves life. Still a little sassy, but isn’t afraid to show her heart.”

He’s right. I know he’s right. Matt returning out of nowhere brings back old, unresolved ghosts, for sure. The kind I should have worked through months ago. But it also reminds me that I'm not the same person I was when he left. Or even while he was here.

He goes quiet for a second, then says softly, “I never told you this.”

My stomach drops.

“The last conversation I had with your dad…I was asking for his blessing. To marry Emma someday. And after he gave it, he made me promise something.”

Tears threaten, but I swallow them down.

“He asked me to make sure you married a man who loves you the way I love Emma. And to protect you if I ever felt like someone wasn’t right. Make sure that you get everything you deserve and then some.”

A single tear threatens and I swipe it away as soon as it starts to fall. He pulls me into his chest and hugs me, knowing exactly how bad I need it.

“I just don’t want to see you lose sight of what’s in front of you. I’ve shared a locker room with both of those idiots, and they’re not the same kind of people. Not even close. One of them would rip his heart out and hand it to you without hesitation. The other would probably think twice about sharing his cheese-stick with you.”

I laugh, because it’s true. And we both know who’s who.

“Thank you, Shayne,” I whisper through the tears threatening again and he squeezes me once more before he stands. “For everything. Good luck at your game tomorrow.”

“Love you, Laners. Try to get some sleep tonight. Don’t wanna scare everyone half to death on the trauma floor considering they’re already halfway there.”

I laugh weakly through tears, and when he’s gone, the house is silent again. I gather my things, say goodbye to Emma and head home.

The whole drive I stare at the road, but it feels like I’m on autopilot. Because for the entire six minutes, there’s only one question burning a hole in my brain and consuming every thought. The same one that’s been there for months now.

How do you fully give your heart away again after the person you thought would hold it forever leaves it behind?

Then, a familiar face spreads across my CarPlay screen and suddenly, that question hits harder than ever.

My hands tremble over the screen, like my head and my heart are disagreeing on what to do next. I silently curse myself for not changing his contact picture as I stare at his messy, red hair, his goalie mask tucked under one arm and the other wrapped around me.

Nine whole months. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen that photo pop up on my screen. Nine months without a single text, call or signs of life. Nothing but a tagged photo and a broken heart I had no clue what to do with. And right now? I’m starting to think maybe I still don’t.

I hit decline, finally. Even though my heart is screaming to hear his voice like a betrayal—because, hell, that bitch has a mind of her own these days—I know it can’t be like this. So instead, I turn off the ignition, and as soon as I get inside my apartment, I collapse onto the bed and I let myself breathe, even if it's just for a minute.

Shayne was right. The past nine months have been mine, and even though they may have been a little hard and messy, they’ve also been beautiful in ways he’ll never understand. I gather myself, wipe the single tear that’s escaped from my face and straighten. Deep breaths, Delaney. You’re gonna be just fine.

And then, I pick up the picture of my Dad from my nightstand, and I let myself lose it.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Brennan

I’m starting to realize I’ve never been in love before. Not like this. This feels different, bigger, worse. Like the thought of losing her wouldn’t just look like a broken heart, it would break me. Every single part of me.

Something felt off in our last FaceTime call, like she was pulling away from me. Usually we’d talk about things, the way we have been lately. But this time, she just shrugged it off. Said she was tired. Didn’t even seem excited about seeing me after being away for three nights.

We got home from our away game around two in the morning and I couldn’t manage even a few hours of sleep. Now it’s fourteen hours later and I’m standing in my bathroom, towel in hand, debating my third hot shower of the day because at least the heat gives me something to focus on, when my phone rings.

My body moves before my brain can catch up and I dive over the open suitcase on my floor just to see the screen. Disappointment hits hard and fast when I see my sister’s contact photo. Not because I don’t want to talk to her, but because she’s not the one I’m waiting for.

I hit decline, I’ll call her back later when I can have a conversation that doesn’t include me moping until she inevitably makes me tell her what’s wrong. As soon as I go to set my phone down, it starts vibrating again. Katie always calls more than once, no doubt to entice me and make me think she’s got something important to say, and it always works. I don’t even bother to look when I press Accept.

“Why do you always do this?” I manage half a laugh. “I’m confident you don’t have anything important to say that warrants a double call, but let’s hear it.” Except the voice at the other end isn’t Katie’s.

“Brennan?” Her voice is nervous and shaky, and my heart beats a mile a minute at the sound it.