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Suddenly, it was no longer about proving a point to my parents. It wasn’t about impressing the people back home. It was about making memories with the people I had met here, the people who had become my new home.
I’d left behind the past, finally started to live in the present, and, for the first time in my life, was hopeful for the future.
A future with the man who stands in front of me—the man who’s now staring at me as if we hadn’t just spent the lastthree months going through the trials and tribulations of our relationship, to throw it all away over a misunderstanding.
“You didn’t, did you?” Warren drags me out of my head, hardly allowing me time to process his words before he speaks again.
My heart sinks with the brutal realization that, at this moment, it doesn’t matter what I say. He doesn’t want to hear it. He’s convinced himself of this narrative, one that perhaps I believed in the beginning but abandoned along the way. Surely, he can see that.
“Of course, I cared, Warren,” I respond quietly while relentlessly shaking my head, as if that alone would convince him of my words. As much as I try to calm myself down, I physically can’t stop. “Just please let me speak. Let me explain.”
“I’ve heard enough.” His voice is direct as he steps away from me. I instinctively take a step forward, desperate to be close to him, to keep him near me. “I think the best thing for you to do right now is go. It’s clear that you weren’t a part of this team. And youneverwill be.”
I freeze in place.
I can’t tell what hurts more. His words stabbing me like a knife in my back, or the way he looks at me as if I’m a complete stranger, as if an hour before, we both weren’t entirely under each other’s spell—entranced, infatuated, inlove.I’d hardly known it was true, but now, feeling my one chance at it slip from my grasp, I’ve never been more certain of anything.
I’ve fallen in love with Warren.
And I’d thought he’d fallen in love with me.
It’s insane how much can happen in the span of 60 minutes.
Tears threaten to pool from my eyes as I look up at him. “You don’t mean that.” My voice starts to crack, and I can hardly keep it above a whisper. A single tear runs down my cheek as I attempt to reach my arms out for him, wanting him to pull mein the way he always does, but instead, he swiftly dodges my embrace by putting his hand up.
I breathe in shakily and meet his eyes. I can’t help but notice the way he, too, pauses, carefully watching the tear run down my cheek until I use the back of my palm to wipe it away. I could’ve sworn I sawmyWarren attempt to break free from whatever version of him this is, but I can hardly blink before his face hardens once again, and he looks away from me.
“Warren.” His name is that of a whimper as it escapes my lips for what feels like the hundredth time in this conversation. “Please…”
He assesses me—just like he did the day we first met. I mean, we’re standing inches away from that exact spot. That first day, where we stood on either side of the gate. He’d been unknowing of anything about me, but to me, his presence had already consumed every part of my being before we’d even said hello.
“You should go.” His voice is quiet, too, as he reaches for his keys in his hand, unlocking his car door. “Your work here is done.”
“Warren!” I’m not quick enough to stop him as he opens his car door and steps inside. “Warren, stop!” I plead against the glass, tapping on the window and clutching onto the door handle he’s since locked as he starts the car.
With one last glance at me through the window, he shifts the car into drive, and through my blurred vision, he’s out of the parking lot, out of sight, and out of reach before I even know it.
I feel my legs go limp underneath me as I stand in the parking lot alone, the cool wind whipping against me—but nothing could possibly sting as much as the way Warren had looked at me as if he wanted nothing to do with me again.
Was this the last conversation I would ever have with him?
I feel sick at the thought of it.
“Delaney?” A confused voice from behind prompts me to whip my head over my shoulder in surprise, clutching my stomach as I attempt to steady my sobs.
It’s the boys. The team. It's Wilks who’s the first to free himself from the group that stands at the front gates, seemingly having just watched everything unfold.
“Are you alright?” His face is full of concern as he watches me shaking in place.
“I…” I assess each of their faces. Some are that of worry, most are mainly confusion, but beneath it all, I can’t help but assume that each one of them hates me for what I’ve done. “I’m so sorry…” I pace my way through the parking lot, attempting to brush past them, but Wilks stops me in my tracks, placing his hands delicately on either side of my shoulders to steady me in place.
“Delaney!” He peers down at me with concern in his gentle brown eyes. “Stop, it’s alright. Talk to us. What just happened with Coach?”
I can hardly maintain eye contact with him, nor can I think of a response to any of his questions. All I can think to do is reach for the bracelet on my wrist, my hands trembling so heavily that I can barely pull it off. “Here!” I finally yank it free, resting it in my palm and squeezing it tightly—as if clutching it will transport me back to that night in London with Warren. “Take it.” I have to peel my grasp back as I finally drop it into Wilks’ hand.
“What’s this?” The confusion is all over his face as the tears continue to stream down my own, and at this moment, I’m reminded of one of the first thoughts I had the night I first walked up to this stadium:
“Crawley is a small town that becomes a big part of your heart.”
