Say it. Tell him.
I don’t say it. Instead, I rub my thumb over the satiny smooth skin of his inner wrist. The rapid beat of his pulse makes my chest tighten. His shoulders slump and he looks exhausted. That’s my fault and I hate it. He gently pulls his wrist free and steps up to me. I bow my head and Dacen rests his forehead against mine.
“I miss you too, Ryne. Don’t ever think for a second I don’t.” He strokes my cheek. “But that’s not enough.” I cradle his face with my palms and bring our lips together. If he could just see how much I—
Dacen breaks our kiss and pulls away. I feel naked and exposed and a chill runs along my spine. His hand trails down my chest as he steps back. This time when he walks away, he glances over his shoulder once. There’s a finality in that look that guts me to my fucking core.
I’m left with no other option but to try to move on, to move past this. That sucks, but I’ve had to do it before, with Dad. It was obviously different, but the end result feels much the same.
* * *
Saturday
I’ll get over it.
* * *
Sunday
Over him.
* * *
Monday
It’s fine.
* * *
Tuesday
I’m fine.
* * *
Wednesday
I’m not fine.
45
Ryne
Soccer season finally comes to an end. It was bittersweet playing my last high school soccer game. It’s a little surreal, but at the same time, it felt good to walk off the field with my head held high. We finished the season strong. That’s something to be proud of, though my stomach is a mess of nerves at the moment, thinking about playing at EGSU next fall. It has me almost as worked up as everything with Dacen. I go back and forth between telling myself to suck it up and play, it’s what Dad would want, and then asking myself in practically the same breath what about what I want? Which is more important?
I’m in the garage, slamming around trying to find some of my hunting gear when Nathan approaches.
“You okay, bud?”
I throw down everything in my hands and rest my elbows on the wooden tool bench, then rub the heels of my palms over my eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Fuck—shit, sorry. Ugh, damn it, my bad. I don’t know anymore.”
Nathan chuckles but brings a hand down onto my shoulder. “What’s going on?”
Dacen. Soccer. Life in general.
“I don’t wanna play soccer.” I turn and blurt the words out, surprising myself by finally voicing it out loud. “I don’t want to play in college and I don’t want to try to go pro.” The ugly truth. It feels good to get it out but I can’t look him in the face. Seeing disappointment etched all over it would be a hard blow. It’d be like disappointing my dad. Disappointment by proxy. There’s a few seconds of silence.
“Okay.” He most definitely does not sound upset.Okay? A slightly hysterical laugh bubbles out of my chest and I chance a glance at him. Nathan looks at me curiously. “Mind clueing me in on the joke?” His brow is raised and his lips are tilted up in a small smile.
