Page 12

She bites her lip before she says, “I don’t know if that’s true.”

“What are you saying, then—that you want to give up without even trying? We’re not quitters. You and I, we’re forever. You promised that to me just like I promised that to you.”

Quinn’s blue eyes, glassy with tears, hold mine. My heart beats faster than it did on the treadmill, and I know without a doubt that this moment is one of the worst moments of my life. I can’t let our relationship end over something I know I can fix, that I want to fix.

I’m about to drop to my knees and beg, to tell her I’ll do whatever it is I need to do to fix this, when she pulls two pieces of paper out of her pocket and unfolds them. My heart stops completely, brain thinking the worst. But like I told Quinn, we’re not quitters. She wouldn’t quit without at least trying to mend what I stupidly didn’t see was broken.

She hands them to me, and I take them, having to keep the muscles of my arm taut so I don’t tremble like a child facing their bogeyman. Her eyes remain heavy on me as I read them.

I furrow my brow. “Plane tickets to Palm Springs?”

Quinn nods, eyes clear now, some of the confidence back in her shoulders.

“Yes, for tomorrow. We’ll land in Palm Springs, and then we’ll go to Joshua Tree.”

“Okay, so you want to go on a vacation?” My shoulders relax at the idea. We haven’t been on a vacation together in…at least two years. I usually use the offseason to train.

She pulls out another paper from her other pocket, and I take it. The top of the paper has a logo on it of two rings with a flame under it.

“‘Reignite,’” I read aloud. “‘Couples intimacy retreat.’” My heart picks back up, and my palms sweat. “An intimacy retreat?” I ask her.

“Yes. It’s a week long, and I’ve already signed us up.”

I have mixed emotions over this—happiness because her doing this means she wasn’t ready to give up on us, that there was a part of her that knew I’d want to fix us, too, but also anger, because an intimacy retreat implies my wife isn’t satisfied with me. Not just with our relationship, but with all of me.

Words I know won’t be kind try to escape my throat. I want to ask why we can’t just work on this ourselves, why we need to go to some retreat where woo-woo quacks will tell me how to please my wife. I already know how to please my wife.

Quinn fidgets on her feet. “Noah—say something.”

I grip the papers tight in my hand. I said I would do anything for her, for our relationship, and I will, even if I don’t understand how this is the answer to our problems and it’s the last place I want to go.

Did I mention I also hate the heat?

I dip my chin with my final answer. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

The smile on her lips this time isn’t sad, it’s hopeful.

“Really?”

“I told you, Sunshine.” I transfer all the papers to one hand and cup her cheek, relief filling me when she melts into its warmth. “We’re not quitters. We promised each other forever, for better or worse, and I want to make this right for both of us.”

“Okay.” She exhales, her shoulders easing.

“Okay.” I press my lips to her forehead and breathe in her fresh apple-and-rose scent to calm me.

“I guess we should pack,” she says after a long moment.

I pull back and tuck a strand of her almost-dry pink hair behind her ear. “California, here we come.”

Chapter five

Beck

“Ashcroft is going to be thinking about that one for a long time. He’s scored that goal hundreds of times in his life.”

“There you are!”

I force myself not to jump in surprise at the feminine voice and lock my phone screen so the game replay stops. I clear my throat and smile. “Here I am.”