Chapter 49

49

ZACH

I settled into a routine, spending time throughout the week in meetings and answering emails regarding the youth soccer club I was helping to get up and running. I went into Omaha for one of those meetings and had lunch with my father.

He'd moved back into the city shortly after Drea went off to college. Our relationship was much better than it had been in my youth, though he was still irritated with me for staying away for so long and struggled to understand why I'd walked away from my soccer career. I supposed we'd likely always have some difficulty understanding each other. But at least we'd found ways to be at peace with those differences instead of constantly butting heads.

I spent an afternoon with Drea, checking out the dance studio she'd recently taken over running. It was the same studio where she and Mandy had taken classes. She was hoping to buy the business outright, but the studio owner wasn't quite ready to let go of it entirely, so for now, she'd taken on a managerial role. She showed me around the space, pointing out some of the updates she wanted to make and her long-term vision for the studio once it—hopefully—became her own.

I'd also taken some time getting the house squared away. Dad had been shocked when I told him I'd bought our old house in Astaire. I'd originally planned on buying a condo in the city and making the commute to the new soccer club when necessary. I'd lived in a great condo in San Francisco, and I loved the hustle and bustle of city life. But when I happened upon the real estate listing for our old house in Astaire, I had to have it. As I'd told Drea, it felt like a sign. Almost like a call to come home. I'd only lived in Astaire for a year, but I'd felt the most me there. Especially the summer I became friends with Jason.

I sighed as I released my quad stretch and began to jog along the path. One way or another, my thoughts always seemed to circle back to him. I'd royally fucked up my attempt to smooth things over on Monday, and I'd spent most of the rest of the day sulking on the couch watching episodes of Schitt's Creek . But then I'd woken up Tuesday, determined to stay positive and focus on the things I could control while I figured out how I might try again with Jason.

Drea was right. He deserved someone willing to fight for him. I just had to figure out the next step in this battle.

I continued along the path, enjoying the sunshine on my face and the breeze coming off the lake. My body felt pretty good these days, now that the grind of my professional soccer career was over. There were days I missed it, but mostly, I had no regrets over leaving the career I'd once thought was my dream come true. I'd enjoyed the physicality of it and my teammates, but somewhere along the line, the pressure to compete at the highest level had gotten the best of me. In the end, leaving had left me feeling relief rather than regret, and I knew I'd made the right choice.

I rounded a bend and spotted a runner approaching from a short distance away. My heart rate sped up, and I nearly tripped at the sight of Jason coming toward me. He was shirtless, his broad chest glistening with sweat as his feet pounded the pavement. His eyes were focused on the ground, so I was nearly upon him before he saw me.

Jason's eyes widened with surprise, then shuttered before he turned around and started jogging the other way.

I huffed in frustration, then took off after him, determined not to let this chance to speak to him get away. "Jason, wait."

I caught up to him, sliding into place next to him, though he did his best to ignore my presence. We ran like that for several minutes, with only the sounds of our feet hitting the pavement and the rhythmic inhale and exhale of our breaths between us. Suddenly, Jason stopped, turning on the path to face me. "What? What do you want from me?"

"I just want to talk."

"You did so well with that the last time."

"I know I fucked up. I'm fucking it all up. It's just…hard for me."

"Hard for you ?"

I winced as he spat out the words.

"I'm…sorry. I know I keep saying that, but it's true. And it's hard for me because it's…you. The stakes are higher."

"Stakes? What stakes? Stakes implies there's something to win or lose. Newsflash. You already lost me."

His words were like tiny shards of glass embedding themselves in my skin, cutting me to ribbons. I'd never imagined in a million years that Jason—quite possibly the kindest person I'd ever met—could be so cruel.

He started to walk away but turned back. "What are you even doing here in Astaire anyway? I heard you moved into your old house?—"

"News travels fast," I muttered.

"You can't have come back here just for me. And if you did, you're wasting your time."

I took a breath, pushing past the angry words and the hurt in order to answer his question. "I'm starting a youth soccer club. Or rather, an offshoot of the one I was a part of as a kid in Omaha. It's going to serve Astaire, Brinkley, and the surrounding area. There were a lot of talented kids on our high school team who would have been even better if they'd had the benefit of a club program in the area. I've been thinking about something like it for a long time, so I wrote up a proposal, reached out to a couple of my old coaches, and we worked out a deal."

I watched him carefully as I spoke, trying to gauge his reaction. This project meant a lot to me, and I hadn't been exaggerating when I said I'd been thinking about it for a long time. In truth, it was the most passionate I'd felt about anything since I'd left.

Some of the irritation left his face and he studied me for a moment before saying, "That's…that's actually pretty cool."

"Thanks," I said, my voice soft.

"So you're really back then? Like, for good?"

"I'm here to stay." I took a cautious step closer. "I know you're mad at me. And hurt. And you have every right to be. But I'm not going anywhere. And I want to make things right between us."

"I can't just forget about what happened. I can't snap my fingers and make all the pain go away. You hurt me, Zach. More than I ever thought it was possible to hurt. And there's still so much I don't understand." He swiped at the sweat dripping down the side of his face, wiping his hand on his shorts in an agitated motion. "What if I can't forgive you? What then?"

I swallowed hard. "Then I'll have to figure out how to accept it. I'm not trying to make your life harder by being here. I just…I missed this place. I missed you ."

He stepped back as if I'd struck him. Shit . I was losing what little ground I'd gained. I could see in his eyes that he was pulling away.

"I missed you too. But you're nine years too late."

And with that, he jogged away, leaving me standing on the path.