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“In that case,” she said, “I owe you an apology, too. I was angry when you told me that you slept with him, angry for what it would do for the team and I didn’t stop to consider that maybe you had serious feelings for the guy. For as long as we’ve been friends, I’ve never seen you actually like someone — a man, that is — in a romantic way, so whatever this is with Simon… well, it’s obviously special. You say you love him, and I know that doesn’t happen, uh, ever, for you. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was angry earlier. Maybe that could’ve stopped me from doing what I did.” She gestured to the circle, meaning ‘telling the entire damn team.’
“You don’t need to be sorry,” I replied, shaking my head. “I was the one in the wrong.”
She said, “Nevertheless, I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?”
“Of course I do. And… do you forgive me?”
She closed the gap between us, pulling me into a big embrace. Oh, I’d missed her hugs. There wasn’t anything quite like them. The girls around me made happy noises, quietly approving of Grace and me making up.
“So,” Grace continued, pulling away from our hug. “What can we do to fix this?”
I sighed. “That’s very sweet of you, but I’m not sure there’s anything to—”
“Don’t be negative, that’s out of character. Just tell me how we can make this better,” she insisted.
Her enthusiasm was very endearing, but the only thing I could say in response was, “Can we just work hard in practice and try our best? What we can do to fix this right now, all that it’s in our power to do, is win championships. That’s what would make me happy, and I know for a fact it’s what would make Simon happy. Okay? How does that sound?”
Every single player nodded in rabid agreement. God, I loved my team.
“All right then,” I said. “Let’s hit the field.”
Smiles abounded as the girls raced to put on their gear, and I was about to join them when my phone buzzed. A text from Simon.
I’m going to do it now. I love you.
And for the first time in a long time, I had a good idea.
Chapter 27
Simon
It had been a long time since I’d put on a suit and tie, but I figured it was bad form to quit your job of just a few weeks wearing a T-shirt and jeans. Call me old-fashioned.
So that was how I wound up in a close-fitting navy blazer and trousers along with a white shirt and gray woolen tie. Looking in the mirror, I thought it was a shame that the only person who would see me in this getup was David. He wasn’t going to much appreciate the tailoring. Oh well.
I wasn’t going to schedule a meeting with David this time, but rather just walk in and hope for the best. My reasoning was that, if I tried to make a meeting, he’d ask what it was about and I didn’t want to discuss it until we were face to face. I made a far more compelling argument in person than via phone. I like to think it was because in person, my charms were irresistible. Not that there was going to be anything to argue about — I was quitting, whether he liked it or not.
Here I was, only a week after my last meeting, about to knock on his door one more time. It occurred to me that what had played out over the last week was quite exactly what I’d been worried about the last time I was at the door. Only now I was no longer worried about discovery — that part of the equation had been thrust upon me. I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was a bit of a relief to not live in fear any longer. Sure, I’d rather keep my job, but the peace of mind was worth something, to not feel like you were constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for a boogeyman to emerge.
My fist rapped on the thick door and I straightened my shoulders.
“Who is it?” a voice called, obviously unhappy to be bothered. Not a great start.
“Simon.”
“Did you make an appointment?” The grizzled voice clearly belonged to David, nobody else had such a distinctive growl from too many years of cheap cigarettes.
“No, sir, bit of a last-minute thing,” I explained, hoping my voice didn’t betray the gravity of the situation.
There was a pause as David seemed to consider this, then he replied, “Well, all right then, come in.”
I swung upon the door and found him right where I’d left him — sitting behind that too-small desk, staring up at me rather petulantly. I wondered absently if he ever left this office or if he’d just been welded to the chair.
