Page 87 of Beyond the Game


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Cameron: I can’t handle this. I can’t handle you not being in my life.

Cameron: How am I supposed to work there, knowing you’re not mine?

Cameron: The sun’s rising, and the last time I was up to watch that, you were in my arms.

Cameron: I know you were in there. That’s okay. I’m going to fix this. I’m going to make it right, and then I’m coming to get you. I let you walk away from me once, Paisley Monroe. I will not make that same mistake twice. This isn’t over.

Cameron: We are not over.

My hands shake as I read through his messages. He’s hurting. I’m hurting, but there isn’t another way. This is the only way to save his career and keep him close to his mom. He’s not thinking about other teams and how they will see us being together. Once he has some time to think about this, he’ll understand this truly is the only way.

It’s going to take time for the pain to lessen. I’m not sure it will ever go away. No, I know it won’t, but I’m hoping that with time it will get easier to hide it. I’m hoping it will be easier to pretend I didn’t shatter both of our hearts for the greater good.

This day is dragging. Cameron hasn’t texted me again, and that causes me relief and more pain. I’m well aware I’m an emotional basket case. It’s going to take some time. When my phone rings, I jump and fumble to check the screen. My shoulders fall when I see my mom’s face smiling back at me.

“Hey, Mom,” I answer.

“Hey, kid. I just wanted to thank you for picking Peyton up for me yesterday.”

“Anytime.” What I don’t say is me doing her a favor ripped my heart to shreds.

“What’s wrong?”

Great. Her mom-dar is on. I may as well pull the plug and get this conversation over with. “Cameron and I broke up.” I barely get the words out without bursting into tears.

“What? No.”

“Last night.”

“I never would have dreamed he would end things. He was so in love with you.”

The knife twists deeper.

He was so in love with you.

Was.

“I broke it off.”

“What? No way. What’s going on, Paisley?”

“Nothing. It just wasn’t going to work out.”

“I’m not buying that.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t know what else to tell you. It was time.”

“What are you not telling me?” she asks.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“When you’re ready, you know my number. Do you need anything? Ice cream?”

I give her a light chuckle. “No. Willow is here with me. We’ve been watching movies all day.”

“It helps to talk, and I have a hard time believing that the two of you are over. Things will work out.”

“Not this time.”

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