Chapter 48 Sadie
forty-eight
Sadie
I’m standing in front of my fridge, pretending to think about what I’ll make for dinner, when I’m really going over everything that happened with that parent before practice.
I’d been sure Colson was going to leave before practice even started.
The moment that mother pulled Emma aside, the way her mouth tightened when she mentioned the article, the careful distance she kept from him—I’d braced myself.
I’d watched Colson from the corner of my eye, waiting for the shrink of his shoulders, the defeat to ring out.
When Emma left early, I thought that would be it. I really thought he’d leave.
No part of me thinks he’ll stay here forever. That’s not practical. And I certainly don’t have that good of luck. I know he wants to play for another team, and he’ll have to go wherever that is, but that seems like something to worry about when the time comes.
Today’s event made it feel like his decision is infringing on our time. About to pop the summer bubble. My stomach flips, nervousness pricking at me.
So when Colson stayed—when he finished practice, helped clean up, joked with the kids like nothing had cracked—I felt something dangerously close to relief.
The article didn’t get it right. It never does.
He hadn’t been aggressive. He hadn’t been reckless. He was there taking care of me. Making sure I wasn’t cornered, wasn’t scared, wasn’t alone. And now Colson was going to pay for it.
I could tell he was more reserved, like his mind wandered more than we’re used to, but I couldn’t blame him. No way.
My apartment feels like it’s choking me. I’m up grabbing my keys before I have a chance to recognize the panic. That this is my fault. Nick is my baggage; if it weren’t for him, this wouldn’t be happening.
I close the fridge, grab my keys, and am practically running back out to my car. I drive straight to Colson’s place, my hands tight on the steering wheel, my heart pounding with worry and nerves.
He’s in the driveway when I pull in, lifting a duffel bag from the sidewalk and setting it carefully into the trunk of his BMW, still dented from the first day we met. There’s another bag by his feet.
My stomach drops.
I get out of the car slowly, like if I move too fast I’ll spook him into finishing whatever this is before I can stop it.
“Colson.”
He freezes but doesn’t turn around.
I walk closer, every step heavier than the last. “What’s this?”
He stays quiet long enough that my chest starts to ache. Then he closes the trunk.
“I’m going back to Chicago.”
The words hit hard and clean, like a punch I didn’t see coming.
“What?” I whisper.
“My agent called. The photo is on every significant sports news outlet and it’s making the rounds. I’m going to try and get ahead of it. Or something. I don’t know.”
“You can’t leave,” I say, like the only words my brain can produce.
“It’s better for you. For the kids. You won’t have any other parents afraid to leave their kids with you if I’m back in Illinois.”
I shake my head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. This isn’t fair.”
“I don’t know what world you live in, but mine has never been all that fair,” he replies, short and to the point. He still hasn’t even looked at me. “You saw it today, firsthand.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“It means it’s better if I leave now. Before all the parents band together and tear down the thing you’ve worked your ass off to build,” he cuts in, not harshly but tired. “I can’t cost you this.”
“This?” I gesture wildly. “The rec center? The league? I can handle a nervous parent, Colson.”
“I can’t handle being the reason you have to,” he argues.
My chest tightens painfully. “This is my fault.”
He stiffens. “No.”
“It is,” I insist. “If Nick hadn’t shown up, you wouldn’t have had to step in.”
Colson pauses for a second, his hands resting on his hips. It takes everything in me to not wrap him up with my arms. Kiss him until my words make sense. Until he has to believe that I don’t blame him. That I need him to stay.
He sighs a breath and continues, “Part of this is Nick’s fault. Definitely not yours.”
Hearing Colson say my ex’s name is like lemon juice on a cut you forgot about. It fucking stings.
“You know what? I’d do it again,” he says instantly.
That almost breaks me.
“I know,” I agree softly. “That’s the problem.”
He looks away, jaw clenched. “To be fair, this is what I was worried about. Letting you down. Disappointing you.”
I take a step closer, “You did not let me down. Why are you falling on your sword like this? Running away? Why don’t you fight?”
He hesitates. That scares me more than anything. I wonder if I pushed too far when he keeps quiet.
My voice is bold and strong, it almost surprises me. “You can’t just run every time something gets hard. You of all people know that.”
“I’m not running away. I’ve got a career to try and salvage,” he says, a little more of an edge to his voice. Good. It means there’s something to grab and hold on to.
Lifting my hands in fake surrender, I press, “You’re not playing for Chicago. You know you don’t have to go back.”
“That’s where my agent is—” he tries to reason.
“Colson, there are phones. Quit making excuses.” I almost stomp my foot, the rage bubbling in my belly. I want him to hear me. There’s no room for Sunshine Sadie right now.
He looks away, then back to me, his eyes dark blue like stormy waves. “I’m not making excuses.”
“No?” I keep pushing him. Each word has brow furrowed, knitting tighter and tighter.
“No! I’m trying to let you keep your life here, untouched. You were fine before I got here and I’d imagine you’ll be fine when I leave.” Colson’s words are plain but cut like a knife.
“Sounds like another excuse.” I cross my arms over my chest, holding on as if I’m keeping myself together.
“Sadie, I promise that you don’t need me,” he laughs, completely self-deprecating. “I’m the storm cloud. The one that ruins the beach day you’ve been planning for weeks.”
I hate how he’s trying to convince himself that I’m better off without him.
“You don’t need me. See, you’re like the sun. Bright. The perfect summer day that people wish for.” His voice fades; I hate that’s how he sees himself.
Colson shakes his head, eyes on the ground. It seems the small piece of ground I may have gained is slipping from my fingers. I can feel the waves of disappointment rolling off of him. I can’t imagine him leaving like this.
There’s no way. This can’t be it.
I take another step and we’re close enough that I could reach out and touch him. “Fine. If we’re making excuses, can I try?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, it tastes like risk and feels like I’m about to crumble.
His hand cuts through the summer air, telling me, “Go ahead.” He says it like a joke. Like he’s on the verge of annoyance.
Pressing my lips into a thin line, tears prick at my eyes and I look up. The sky is gorgeous. Whispers and puffs of color dance together, shades of pink and pieces of lush orange, as the sun is setting. It feels like a sign.
Wiping my eyes, I plead, “How about this? You can’t run away, because, you see, I’m completely and ridiculously in love with you. You’re wrong—I do need you. And if I’m the sun… that means you’re the sunset. All those gorgeous colors, changing the entire sky, making the wait feel so worth it.”
It feels like time stops and I’m having an out-of-body experience. I feel the words leave my mouth, I hear them, but it’s like I’m watching this play out. Like a movie. My stomach ties a knot so tight I press my hand to it, to see if I can feel it.
Colson looks like he’s frozen in place. The seconds drag, pulling me through gravel without any shoes on.
“What did you just say?” His voice is lighter than I expected.
I take a breath, filling my lungs to try and get the words out. “I said that I love you.” The words tumble and fall on top of each other.
He closes the space between us, his thumbs wiping away rogue tears I didn’t know I’d given up, and then his lips are on mine. I sink into it, let him hold me up, the way he’s done more than once since being here.
When he pulls away, he says, “Sadie, I—”
“You don’t have to say it back. It’s… I needed to tell you the truth and–”
His lips find mine again, interrupting me in the best way. When he pulls away this time, his finger replaces his lips and he says, “Sadie, I love you.”
I kiss him like he’s leaving. I kiss him like he’s staying. Mostly, I kiss him in a way that makes me feel like I can’t get enough.
We break apart and I damn near beg, “Let me help you. I can help you fix this.” I act like my voice isn’t shaking and continue. “Stay. Don’t leave. Please don’t run.”
His forehead presses to mine. He locks his eyes on mine, intentional and true, and it’s a look that could bring me to my knees.
Without breaking eye contact, he reaches into the trunk, grabs the bag and drops it on the driveaway. He shuts the trunk, the sound of it latching making my heart squeeze. I feel like I can catch my breath.
“Okay,” he agrees. “I won’t run.”
“You won’t?”
“How could I when I have my very own human version of sunshine telling me she loves me?” It’s like he’s trying to make a joke, make light of the heavy words we’ve exchanged, but I see right through it.
He grabs a bag, I take the other, and then he grabs my hand. Colson squeezes it once before we walk back to the house.
It feels like my heart might trip over itself. Because under the most beautiful sunset, one I never even planned to see, it feels like my key finally found the lock it fits in.
The truth is clear and promising: I love Colson. And he loves me back.