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It was our first day out of the bubble. Our first real obstacle and it was already a shitstorm.
I walked into the bathroom and shut the door before turning on the faucet in the bathtub.
I needed space.
I tied my hair up and slipped into the water, letting myself cry all the tears until there was nothing left.
This day had been an eye-opener regarding my future.
For the first time in my adult life, I was doubting myself. Wondering if anyone was genuinely considering hiring me based on my writing skills.
How would Lincoln look at me if I didn’t have anything of my own to be proud of? If my entire life was wrapped up solely around him.
That was not how relationships were supposed to work. There was supposed to be balance.
I may not be the GOAT of the NFL, but I was proud of the work that I did out in the field. Of the interviews that I’d conducted over the years and the way I could use my words to present people to the world in the best light.
But would anyone even consider that when they looked at me now? Once word got out that I was dating Lincoln Hendrix? Hell, Lou Colson didn’t even know we were a couple. Just the fact that Lincoln had awarded me with the story of a lifetime had been the reason he’d shown any interest in me.
It was never about me or my writing ability.
They wanted Lincoln.
This was all new to me, and my head was spinning.
I knew if I stayed here right now that Lincoln would try to fix this for me.
But just like he needed time to figure out where he wanted to play all those months ago, I needed to figure out my future, too.
I dried off and got dressed, throwing my clothes into my bag and dragging my suitcase out.
Lincoln was just closing the front door, and he held up a bag of food from our favorite restaurant in the city.
But I wasn’t in the mood to eat or to celebrate.
His gaze moved to my suitcase. “The first sign of trouble, and you’re already running?”
“I’m not running, Lincoln. I’m going home. I need to think. I need to see how this works. I need to know where I fit.”
“You fit right fucking here,” he said, his hand pounding on his chest. “If you don’t know that, then you don’t know me the way that I thought you did.”
I cleared my throat and tipped up my chin. “I know you. I know you’ll just try to fix this and tell me everything will be fine. But I need to figure out my stuff, and I can’t do that when I’m with you.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because I love you. And I want to make you happy. But I need to make sure I don’t smother myself in the process. Can you just give me this time?”
“It doesn’t sound like I have a choice.” He wrapped his arms around me. “But you don’t need to leave. I fly out tomorrow. This is your home.”
“I need to think, Lincoln. I do that best at home, sitting on the shore.” I pushed up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
It felt like goodbye.
But neither of us was willing to say those words.
thirty
Lincoln
