22. Jake
22
JAKE
The house smells like lavender and something sweet—maybe the vanilla candles Sam always lights when she’s trying to relax. It’s warm, too, the kind of warmth that doesn’t just come from a heater—but from the love of people inside. Samantha’s in the kitchen, barefoot, moving in that methodical way she does, everything precise, structured. She’s always in control. Meanwhile, Ellie’s sprawled on the floor with her markers and a stack of paper, her little brow furrowed in concentration as she colored in her coloring book.
My spot is on the couch, stretched out, one arm behind my head, watching them both. Watching the scene around me, the one that I never expected to be part of, moves me and now I don’t know if I can walk away from it.
I should be relieved when my phone buzzes. I already know what the call is about before I even answer. It’s the one I’ve been waiting for, the one I’ve been working toward since the injury. But as I sit up and swipe to answer, a pit settles in my stomach.
“Yeah?” I keep my voice low, getting up and moving toward the window .
“Jake, your scan is fine and you’re in the clear.” The doctor’s voice is full of satisfaction. “You have made a full recovery and you’re back for the fall lineup.”
I exhale slowly, gripping the back of the couch as I stare out into the darkness beyond the glass. There it is. The open door. The chance to reclaim everything I lost.
And yet, my gut twists.
“You still there?”
“Yeah,” I say, but it doesn’t even sound like my voice.
“You good? I figured you’d be celebrating.”
“I am,” I say automatically, but I can’t even convince myself.
I should be relieved. I should be ecstatic.
Instead, I glance over my shoulder. Ellie’s still coloring, her little mouth moving as she hums some song. Samantha is wiping down the counters, tucking away the last remnants of dinner. Neither of them are looking at me. My chest tightens.
“Jake, you worked your ass off for this,” my doctor reminds me. “You deserve to be back out there.”
I know. I do.
I showed up at appointments and went to physical therapy as directed, but that was the easy part. The mental anguish was hell.
But when I glance back, I see Samantha hesitating at the sink, her posture just a little too still.
Shit.
“Thanks for calling,” I say and my voice lowers.
I hang up before he can say anything else.
And just like that, the weight of my future comes crashing down on me when I hear Ellie sniffle. It’s the sound she makes when she’s trying to be brave and not cry like the night she cut her finger.
I turn.
She’s hugging the lion cub stuffed animal I won for her at the fair, gripping it so tight her little fingers are turning white. Her eyes were wide, glassy, and locked onto me with a kind of devastation I wasn’t prepared for.
She looks at Sam, then back at me. “You’re leaving,” she whispers.
I freeze.
Samantha’s already moving, crouching down next to Ellie, her hands gentle on her shoulders. “Baby, no, you don’t know that?—”
“But I do!” Ellie chokes out. “I heard it. He said he’s going back. That’s what he wants, right?” Her tiny voice cracks. “He’s leaving us.”
I take a step forward, but Ellie shrinks back, hugging the stuffed lion to her chest like it’s the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
“Will you forget about us?” she asks, barely above a whisper.
Jesus.
Her question was like a punch to the ribs.
Samantha closes her eyes briefly, like she’s bracing herself, then pulls Ellie into her arms. “Sweetheart, we don’t know what’s happening yet.”
Ellie’s shoulders shake. “You don’t know,” she sobs, muffled against Sam’s shirt, “but he does.”
And that’s the part that guts me.
Because she’s not wrong.
I watch Samantha run her fingers through Ellie’s curls, trying to soothe her, but I can see it in her eyes—she’s unsure too. She doesn’t know what I’ll do.
I don’t even know what I’ll do.
I crouch down, leveling myself with them. “Ellie,” I start, keeping my voice as gentle as I can, “come here, kiddo. ”
She shakes her head, burrowing deeper into Samantha.
I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. “I’m not going anywhere tonight,” I say instead. “I’m still here. With you.”
Ellie doesn’t answer, just grips the lion cub tighter.
I glance at Samantha, but she doesn’t look at me. Her fingers move absently over Ellie’s back, comforting, steady.
I swallow hard.
Can I trust her to bend for me? To change the rigid life she’s built here for something unknown? Because I know what I want. I want this . But what if she can’t choose it?
What if I stay, and she lets me in—only to realize later that she regrets it?
Wouldn’t it be easier to leave now?
I step outside. I need air, space, anything to clear my head. I walk to the edge of the porch, staring out at the night sky, and pull out my phone again. My fingers hover over the screen for a long moment before I finally tap the contact.
“Yeah?” The real estate agent answers on the second ring.
“I’ll take it,” I say.
There’s a pause. “The house in Maine?”
“Yeah.”
The words feel like a lifeline. Something solid.
“You’re sure? It’s a big investment.”
I glance back at the house with Sam and Ellie and through the window, I see Ellie curled up on the couch now, the stuffed lion still clutched in her arms. Sam is sitting beside her, legs folded, rubbing slow circles on Ellie’s back.
“Yeah,” I say again. “I’m sure.”
As I hang up, my chest feels just a little lighter.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Samantha’s voice, low and urgent.
“You saw what?”
Ellie’s little feet slap against the hardwood floor as she hurries into the room, clutching a tablet. Her eyes are wide again, but not from tears this time.
“You bought a house,” Sam says breathlessly. “In Maine?”
I blink. “What?”
“It’s on the news,” she insists, shoving the screen at me. “See?”
And there it is. A real estate article with the headline in bold: Former Pro Athlete Buys Stunning Country Estate in Maine. There’s a photo of the house—huge, sprawling, with wraparound porches and a massive lanai overlooking acres of land.
Sam’s eyes dart between me and the screen. “Why?” she asks softly.
Her expression is unreadable. Guarded. I don’t know if she’s ready for this so I take a deep breath.
And then I look at Ellie, at the hope flickering behind her confusion.
“For us,” I say.
The way her little face lights up?
Priceless.
I think I’m ready to take the next step.