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“Daddy said we come visit you.”
I look over my shoulder and see Dallas jogging toward us. He has a soccer ball tucked under one arm and a pair of dirty cleats on his feet.
“Hey, Mae,” he says.
“Hi.” My heart moves to my throat when he beams at me. “You didn’t have to come down here.”
“I know we didn’t, but we—I—wanted to.” He leans forward and pinches June’s cheek. “Why don’t you go kick the ball for a few minutes, JB? I’m going to talk to Mae Mae, then we’ll play, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.” June kisses my forehead and I set her down, rolling the soccer ball a few feet away. She kicks it, clapping her hands together as she takes off for the goal.
“I didn’t know she liked soccer.” I tilt my chin to look up at Dallas, and he’s already looking at me. “Those cleats are the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I told her you play, and she wanted to watch a million videos. We’ve kicked on the balcony before, but I think she might be obsessed with it now.” He turns his chin and watches his daughter, a soft, reverent smile on his lips. “I tried to find a Maven Wood jersey, but I came up empty handed. I hope Mia is a good runner up.”
My bottom lip quivers, and I take a deep breath. “She can borrow one of mine next time, but Mia is always a good runner up.”
Dallas sits on the grass. His long legs stretch out in front of him, and I join him. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. The apartment felt so empty with you both gone, and I had this idea that I’d come up to the field and kick around for shits and giggles. Except, I got here, and I just couldn’t.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“Failing,” I blurt out. I’ve thought it, but it’s the first time I’ve voiced it since my injury.
“Just because you’re scared to do something doesn’t mean you’re going to fail.”
“I know. It’s just hard to be here and not associate it with who I was before. But when I’m not here, it feels like a piece of me is missing. It’s like my heart is playing tug of war, and I’m doubting myself.”
“I wish I could show you how June and I see you. Then you’d never doubt yourself.”
“How do you see me?” I ask, and I’ve never wanted to hear the answer to a question more in my life.
“You’re the most incredible person in the world.” Dallas lies on his back and crosses his hands over his chest. “You’re fearless and you work hard. You never give up, even when everything is going against you. You’ve got a kind heart, and you care about others. Every day with you, Maven, is a good day. Thebestday, and if I had to pick a woman I hope June grows up to be like, it’d be you.” He turns his cheek and looks up at me. His mouth splits into a grin, and I feel it in every empty part of myself. “It’s okay to be afraid, but I never want you to think you’re not capable. Do you remember how you told me you like messy? You like complicated?”
“Yes,” I say, and I lay down beside him.
“You’re safe with me, too. You’re allowed to mess up. If you fall, you dust yourself off and try again tomorrow. Maybe next time you’ll get a little further. Maybe it’ll take you a month before you even kick a ball again, but guess what? I’ll be out here with you every day until it feelsright.”
Hearing his words feels a lot like flying. Like my feet come out from under me and lift me off the ground. I reach over and touch his cheek, wanting to make sure he’s real. That he’s herewith me, his heart of gold and kindness and understanding in every fiber of his being.
“Where did you get the soccer ball?” I ask, and his eyes trace over my face.
“You’ve never looked in that closet in the hallway?” he teases, and I shake my head.
“No. I always assumed it was stuff you wanted to keep private. It wasn’t mine to snoop through.”
His gaze softens into a grateful look that almost cleaves my heart in two. “I bought it the day after you told me about your injury. We weren’t as close as we are now, but I could see that fire in you. I wanted to have one in the apartment, just in case you wanted to try to play again.”
There’s a split down the center of my chest. I’ve had attention from men before. The handful of people I’ve dated have sent me bursting bouquets. The guy I was with for six months at the end of my sophomore year bought me a bracelet.
This, though, is the first time someone’s done something for me because theywantedto, not because they felt like they had to. A gesture not for him, but for me, an invitation that will never expire.
“You might be the nicest person I’ve ever met,” I whisper. My thumb strokes his cheek, and he sighs. “What did I do to deserve you in my life, Dallas?”
“I ask myself that every day. You’re my best friend, Maven. You know that, right?”
I nod, a bob of my head, because words are too hard to use right now. I hold his gaze, though, so he knows he’s my best friend, too.
