25. Jake
25
JAKE
Packing my bags should feel like closure, but instead, every zip of my suitcase feels like a nail in a coffin. I am leaving. Leaving the town, leaving Sam, leaving Ellie. The life I built here, the life I want with them—it isn’t enough to keep me from going. But God, I want it to be.
I have to see them one last time.
I swing by the house when Ellie is home from school and she runs up to me, her tiny arms wrapping around my waist like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go. "I made something for you," she whispers, pressing a piece of paper into my hand.
I unfold it carefully, my breath catching in my throat. A crayon drawing—me, Sam, and Ellie, all holding hands, with the words Our Family scribbled above us. My chest aches.
“Ellie...” My voice cracks. I kneel to her level, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “This is perfect. I’ll keep it with me always.”
I pull two jerseys from my bag and hand them to Ellie and Sam. “So you can wear them when you watch my games. That way, I’ll always have you with me.”
Sam holds the jersey in her hands, running her fingers over my number. I see the conflict in her eyes, the war between her heart and her fear. I wish I could promise her it would be easy, but I know better.
When it’s time to go, I hug Ellie tight. “I promise we’ll Facetime all the time, okay? And I’ll visit whenever I can.”
She sniffles, nodding against my shoulder. “Okay,” she croaks.
I turn to Sam, hoping—praying—she’ll tell me she’s coming with me. But the words never come.
With one last look, I walk out the door, feeling like I’m leaving my heart behind.
I walk to my truck, and I’m sure part of it will be with them forever.
Sam and Ellie managed to rehab my heart and they gave me a glimpse of what my future can be with them.
And that makes leaving them next to impossible. But I’ve been gone for weeks and it’s time for me to get back to training. Besides, the longer I stay the more it will hurt.
Today, I ripped the Band-Aid off and as I drove down the highway, my eyes began to mist.
I created so many memories with them. Ellie’s camp and the kids were fun. It kept my mind and body busy. It gave me a schedule when I had none and I felt—needed. Even though I couldn’t play ball with my team, I was important to the counselor and the kids even if I didn’t carry a football in my hand.
I will miss Ellie’s giggles when I flip pancakes. And I’ll miss making coffee for Sam every morning. I’ll miss the creak on the third step up the stairs and I’ll miss the lazy Sundays and cooking on her rusty old grill.