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“Smith!” Coach shouts and I perk up, noticing everyone is staring at me. “Did you get that?”
I frown, my gaze swiveling to the empty bleachers surrounding us, like we’re gladiators kneeling within a coliseum. The game will begin in two hours, but my heart isn’t in it. I’ve been drinking my sorrows away the last few months. I don’t think I can do this much longer—letting everyone down, including the bros. I’m not as much of a team player as I once thought. This whole thing was a mistake.
I rise from my kneel and look around at my teammates, some watching me with alarm, others looking at me with frustration. This is for the best. “No,” I mutter and turn on my heel, stalking back toward the locker room. With each step I take, I feel myself becoming lighter, freer.
“What the fuck is he doing?” I hear Brody shout, as if he actually cares.
There’s some laughter behind me, but it doesn’t matter. I’m done.
“Smith!” Coach calls after me, but I ignore him.
“Hunter! Where are you going?” I hear Brody shouting. “You’re going the wrong way! We’re playing soon!”
I’m smiling. I can’t stop smiling and laughter bubbles out of me. I’m going home. I’m going to buy a ticket as soon as I’m out of Soldier Field and I am going to fly back to Rachel. Why didn’t I do this earlier?
“Smith!” Coach continues calling after me.
I raise a hand in farewell, not stopping until I’m in the locker room. I strip off my pads and jersey, throwing them without care inside my locker. I’m done. I don’t need to come back. I don’t even care about my last paycheck. They can keep that. I’m sure everyone is going to be pissed, but I sucked anyway. Now, they have a better chance of winning the game without me holding them back. Laughter bursts from me and I can’t stop smiling. My fingers feel numb as I strip.
“Hunter.”
I turn around and see Adrien standing in the doorway, watching me with wide eyes.
“What are you doing?”
I smile back at him, but I don’t stop dressing. I have a plane to catch. “What does it look like? I’m leaving.”
“Why?” He steps toward me slowly as if he’s worried I’ve finally snapped.
“I’m done, Adrien. This really isn’t for me.”
“What isn’t?”
I stretch out my arms, slowly turning around while gesturing at the locker room, at Soldier Field. “This. I’m not cut out for it.”
“You’ve had an off year.” Adrien sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “You’re new. It was bound to happen.”
I chuckle and continue dressing. “No. It was a terrible season.”
“It was your first season.”
“And I’m leaving.”
Adrien’s frown deepens. “They won’t let you back after this. Are you sure you want to leave? They’ll never forgive you for running away.”
“I’m not running away,” I say while zipping my bag. “I’m finally doing the right thing for me.” I sigh, my shoulders slumping as I allow the last of my NFL dreams to fade away. “I thought this was something I wanted. I found out it’s not.”
Adrien nods. “It’s not for everyone.”
“It’s definitely not for me. I love football, but this”—I shake my head—“this sucks out all the fun. And I’ve lost myself. I can’t stay when I feel so miserable.”
“Okay,” Adrien says simply, still giving me that sad look. “If this is really what you want.”
“It is.” I step toward him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Good luck with the baby. You’ll be an amazing dad.”
Adrien chuckles and shakes his head. “Doubtful, but I’ll try.”
“You will be.” My hand slips from his shoulder and I turn around, my eyes on the doors, ready to go through them without looking back.
