The Romantic Pact

by Quinn, Meghan

Sighing, she turns toward me. “What do you want me to say, Crew? It doesn’t really matter because you’re taking off anyway.”

  “I would stay.”

  “Until when? Until your next chapter in life?” She shrugs. “I’d rather you leave now.”

  “You could come with me,” I say, trying one more time.

  “Living in a big city, being the doting girlfriend at fundraisers? You know that’s not me.”

  “That’s a stereotype. You don’t have to fall in line with the other wives and girlfriends of professional athletes. You can be who you want to be.”

  “And you out of anyone should know that this”—she gestures to the barn—“this is who I am. And I’m going to soak it up for as long as I can.”

  I bite down on the side of my cheek, trying not to lose my cool. “So, I guess this is goodbye, then.”

  “I guess so.” Her eyes find mine, and for a second, I swear I see a touch of vulnerability, but then it’s quickly shielded when she says, “Safe flight.”

  I slowly nod. Yup, that’s the best I’m going to get out of her. “Thanks.” I swallow back the pain that pushes forward like a freight truck. “Bye, Hazel.”

  I push past the barn door and jog back to the car, where Dad is waiting for me. I hop in the passenger seat and fasten my seatbelt.

  “Ready to go?” Dad asks with trepidation.

  “Yup,” I answer, staring out the window toward the barn, where I know she is, with my heart in her hands.

  “You okay?” Dad asks as we make our way down the country road toward town.

  “Fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine.”

  “Are you going to spend this entire ride badgering me?”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, I am, so might as well start talking or else it’s going to be a painful drive to the airport.”

  Sighing, I say, “I love her, Dad.”

  “You love Hazel?” Dad chuckles lightly, as If he’s known all along.

  “Yeah, I do. And I told her, and she didn’t say it back. I don’t even think she accepted my feelings.” I lean my head against the headrest. “I think I’ve always loved her, but this trip with her, it solidified my feelings. I love her, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know what to do about it? If you love the girl, you be with her.”

  “She doesn’t want to, Dad,” I say, my voice cracking. “She doesn’t want the life that I’m going to have. She was quite clear about that.”

  “And what kind of life do you want?”

  “What do you mean? We’ve talked about this since I was young. To play football. Make something of myself.”

  “Is that what you want?” Dad asks, his voice full of concern.

  “Of course,” I answer without thinking about it. “There isn’t another option for me.”

  “There are always other options. You just need to look for them. Sometimes they aren’t right in front of you, waiting to be grabbed. Sometimes we have to be creative when it comes to carving out our own path in life. And with that comes sacrifices, as well.”

  “What are you saying? Do you not want me to go to the combine and become a professional football player?”

  “I’m not going to tell you what you should do with your life. That decision is on you, and you alone. But I’ll tell you this. When I reconnected with your mom, I realized that nothing made me happier than being with her. Nothing. Not my career, not my dreams, not my goals. Everything that mattered to me, that brought me true happiness, was with your mom. At the time, we were living on opposite sides of the country, and in order for me to be with her, I had to make some sacrifices. I moved to California to be with her. I left my comfort to be with her. And it was weird at first, I felt lost at times, but I could always come back to my initial decision. Being with your mom was the best decision I ever made, even if it meant giving up other things.” He turns onto the highway and heads toward the airport. “If you learn anything from Pops’s passing, it’s that life is short and you have one chance at it, so make the most of it.”

  “So, what do I do? Give up everything I’ve worked toward as an athlete for someone who doesn’t love me?”

  “You really think she doesn’t love you?” Dad asks with disbelief. “Come on, Crew, you’re smarter than that. She’s infatuated with you. We’ve known that for a long time, and then when we saw you two interacting in Germany on FaceTime, in the pictures—there was a spark in both your eyes. Your mom and I were surprised to see you two distance each other when you returned. We half expected you to tell us you were in a relationship.”

  I sarcastically laugh. “That was the plan.”

  “Really?” Dad asks in surprise. “What happened?”

  “My head is what happened.” I rub my hand over my brow. “Pops’s last letter fucked with my head, and all I kept thinking about was what makes me happy. Hazel makes me happy, and I kept thinking of how it could all work, how we could make our relationship last. I wanted to give it good thought, to come up with a plan, and I felt like I was getting distracted. I kept getting swept up in, uh . . .” I bite my cheek, not sure how to say this.

  “The physical?” Dad asks, and I feel my cheeks blush.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  He chuckles next to me and pats me on the shoulder. “Happens to all of us. Trust me.”

  “Well, I thought I needed to distance myself in that respect so I could think of a way to solve our problem, and then I got lost in my head too much.” I groan. “It’s all fucked up. I felt like she wanted me to give her a definitive answer and I don’t have one. And it doesn’t seem as if she’s willing to wait, either. I just . . . fuck, Dad, I just need a second to think.”

  “Then think. Take this time in California while you’re training to think. Hazel isn’t going anywhere. She loves you. Always has, always will. That won’t change. But she does deserve an answer. If you’re going to play football, then make that commitment and try to find a way to fit her into the plan. If you want to stay at the farm and take it over with her, then make that commitment.”

  “You think that’s an option?” I ask. “What the hell would I do with the farm? I’ve no idea how to run a farm.”

  “You don’t need to know how to run a farm. Your girl already knows how to do that. What you’d be is her partner.”

  “Why can’t we just sell and she can take that money and come with me wherever I’m drafted? That seems like the easiest option.”

  “Is that what you think Hazel deserves? Your easiest option? Doesn’t she deserve to thrive, to do what she’s absolutely brilliant at? Something she has worked at for years and years as well?”

  I sigh. God, that makes me sound like a total prick. I’m not that person. I’m not.

  “Sometimes, easy isn’t the option, because you realize it’s the hard that will bring you joy and happiness.” He pats me on the leg and then, as if to end the conversation, he turns up the radio and allows Journey to serenade us for the rest of the trip to the airport.

  Chapter Seventeen

  HAZEL

  “Oh, Jesus, I didn’t see you there,” I say when I walk into the main part of the barn and find Marley standing next to Midnight, petting him.

  “Sorry, I called out for you. I assumed you weren’t in here.”

  I quickly wipe under my eyes, hoping she can’t tell that I just spent the last half hour crying. “Sorry, was straightening up in the back.” I swipe my hand under my nose and sniffle. Pull it together, Hazel.

  Marley tilts her head to the side, studying me. “Are you okay, Hazel?”

  Damn it.

  Damn it all to hell.

  Don’t ever ask someone if they’re upset when they clearly are, because all it’s going to do is bring on the tears.

  “Fine,” I manage to squeak out before turning away. “Just, uh, just need to clean up some more. Can you put Midnight in her stall?”

  “Sorry, I can’t.”

  I pause in m
y retreat.

  “I’ve more important things to do, like talk to you.” Marley steps up behind me and places her hand on my shoulder. “Talk with me, Hazel.”

  I can’t hold them back, not when Marley is treating me like the mom I always wished I had. A sob escapes.

  “Shit, I’m sorry.” I wipe under my eyes again. “Just overwhelmed.”

  “With Crew leaving?”

  “No.” I shake my head, even though that’s a lie. Of course I’m upset about him leaving. He . . . he loves me, and I’ve no idea what to do with that information, because I love him too, hopelessly and desperately, but at this point, I don’t think it’s enough.

  “That’s funny, because Porter called me on his way home from the airport and told me all about his conversation with Crew.”

  My stomach plummets as another wave of tears threatens to fall.

  Marley turns me around so I’m facing her, and she lifts my chin ever so slightly to catch my watery eyes.

  “Do you know what my husband said to me?” She talks with such calm reassurance that her voice soothes me, even if just temporarily. “He said that Crew loves you, and that he told you that.”

  My lip trembles, my hands shake, and I clasp them together to keep them from being too obvious.

  “And Porter said he was confused because he thought that you loved Crew, as well. To my surprise, I said I could have sworn you felt the same way. Are we both wrong?”

  A new batch of tears rolls down my cheeks.

  “You don’t need to answer. I can see it in your eyes. I feel it in your tears. You love him, but you don’t know how to make that love work, right?”

  I slowly nod.

  “I can understand that. It took Porter and me some work to make things right between us, some sacrifices, but it was the best decision I ever made. Putting in the time, the energy, into our love, because I’ve lived such a wonderfully happy life so far.” She cups my cheek. “I’m not going to give you a lesson on loving my son, because I’m sure he can’t be an easy one to love, but I’ll tell you this. He’s grown into a beautifully loyal man, and if he says he’s going to try to figure things out, please, trust him. Okay?”

  There’s something about the way Marley’s talking to me, not just as a protective mother, but as a sincere confidant in my life who would give me solid advice, just like Pops would. The tone of her voice, her body language, her eye contact . . . it makes me believe what she’s saying is true.

  I find myself nodding. “Okay.”

  “It might take time, but you two will figure it out. I know you will. Do you know how I know?”

  I shake my head, my voice lost.

  Marley reaches into her back pocket and pulls out her phone. She flips through it a few times and then smiles. “I’m not sure you know this, but Crew was sending us pictures constantly throughout your trip. And this one—this one made my heart stop.”

  She turns her phone toward me and I catch a picture of me, sitting at dinner. I’m laughing, and Crew snapped a picture of it. The picture feels intimate, something a boyfriend would keep for himself. The way I’m looking at him, the way I’m leaning toward the camera . . . It’s all there, my love for Crew captured in one photo.

  “This picture says everything. The joy. The happiness. The love. It’s all there in your eyes. And Crew looks at you the same way. I saw it on FaceTime, and I saw it in other pictures. It’ll work out, Hazel. Everything will work out, but you need to have an open heart. And if Crew contacts you, reaches out, please don’t ignore him. I know it feels like the way to handle this tough time, but more than ever, you guys need each other.” She pulls me into a hug and rubs my back. “We’re here for you if you need anything. Do you understand? You’re family to us.”

  When she pulls away, she grips my shoulders. “You okay?”

  “No.” I sob out a laugh.

  She laughs, as well. “How about we go into the house? Paul made an apple pie and ran to the store for ice cream to go with it. I say we eat it before he gets home.” Marley winks, and it makes me laugh and cry even more. Just like her son, she wraps her arm around my shoulders and guides me out of the barn. “Go ahead and rinse your face. I’ll take care of Midnight and we’ll have some pie.”

  * * *

  “You know, when we invited you over here for New Year’s Eve, I thought you’d at least smile more than once,” Mia says, sitting across from me on her couch.

  “I’m sorry.” I curl into the blanket she let me borrow. “I guess I’m not in a New Year’s Eve kind of mood.”

  “Uh, yeah, you could say that. You started the night off with your depressing news about the farm, followed by Crew’s admission of love to you, and topped it off with Marley’s conversation. It’s been a treat to have you over.”

  I chuckle. “Aren’t you supposed to get everything off your chest before the New Year? I thought that’s what this party was.”

  Party is a loose term. Mia and her husband, Johnny, who’s currently quietly snoring in his recliner, invited me over to play cards and eat food, maybe dabble in some alcohol. I stayed away from the liquor. Given my current state of sadness, I didn’t think it would be smart to dive this depression into a deeper, darker hole.

  “No, it wasn’t supposed to be that kind of party. We were supposed to have fun, and my husband wasn’t supposed to pass out at ten-thirty.”

  I chuckle and rest my arms on my knees, which are pulled in tight. “At least you have him, despite his light snoring.”

  Mia looks over at her husband affectionately. “He’s a good man. But so is Crew.”

  I groan. “I don’t want to talk about that . . . anymore.”

  “The night is already a flop and we have a few minutes before the New Year. Might as well get anything you need off your chest right now.”

  “I have nothing else to say.”

  “Have you heard from him?”

  I shake my head. “No. And I hate that I’m waiting on it, too. I wish Marley never said what she did, because every hour that goes by that I don’t hear from him, I feel my heart breaking more and more.”

  “Not to be a dick or anything, but weren’t you the one who turned him down? He told you he loved you, and you turned him away. I mean, I wouldn’t be ripe and ready to contact you if I were him.”

  “Yeah, I know. I wouldn’t even know what to say at this point if he did contact me.”

  The TV lights up even brighter, catching my attention, revealing thirty seconds until the New Year. When I was in Germany, I thought about New Year’s Eve and how Crew and I would be together. I thought about how it would be the first time I’d kiss someone on New Year’s. I thought about how I’d wake up the next morning, the new year, in the arms of Crew, holding me tightly. I never considered the alternate reality of being three thousand miles apart again and not talking.

  I never thought I’d be fighting with my emotions every day about losing the farm.

  I never thought love would be this hard.

  I always considered it to be easy. Once you fall in love, things fall in place—but that’s not the case here.

  Everything fell out of place, actually.

  “Ten, nine, eight. Johnny, wake up,” Mia says, shoving her husband’s arm.

  “Huh, what?”

  “The ball is dropping. Three, two, one.” Mia raises her arms toward the ceiling. “Happy New Year’s, you fools.”

  “Ah, Happy New Year, babe,” Johnny says, getting up from his chair and placing a sweet kiss on Mia’s lips. He then looks over at me and says, “Happy New Year, Hazel.”

  I smile, my eyes stinging. “Happy New Year, Johnny.”

  “I’m going to head to bed, babe. Come with me?” He holds his hand out to Mia.

  She glances at me and I wave her on. “I’ll be fine on the couch.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “Yes, it wouldn’t be the first time I sleep here. Go ahead. Have a good night, you guys, and Happy New Year.”

 
Mia gives me a brief hug and then takes off with Johnny to their room. I put our glasses in the sink and then head to the half bath, where I get ready for bed. I have my own toothbrush in the medicine cabinet, because I stay here from time to time, and it’s easier just to keep some items on hand.

  After that, I take some sheets, a blanket, and a pillow out of the hall closet and head to the couch, where I set up my bed. Once situated, I lie on the couch and stare up at the ceiling, tears once again streaming down the sides of my face.

  “I’m so lost,” I whisper, as if Pops is sitting right next to me, listening.

  Just then, my phone beeps with a text message. I wipe my tears and lift my phone to see a message from Crew.

  My breath escapes me as my pulse picks up, thumping so loud that I can barely hear the dull hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

  He texted me.

  He actually texted me.

  Marley’s words ring through my head, reminding me that I need to talk to him, even if it hurts.

  With a deep breath, I open the text message.

  Crew: Happy New Year, Twigs. I know I’m three hours behind, but figured I’d say it anyway.

  More tears. After everything we said to each other, after what I didn’t say, he still messaged me. Maybe he was telling the truth when he said he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Then again, a text message is just that—a text message. It could mean nothing.

  It could also be a stepping stone.

  I need to text him back, even if my mind isn’t quite where it needs to be. I can’t leave him hanging.

  Hazel: Thank you. Happy New Year (early).

  There, simple and to the point.

  But then the little dots indicating he’s writing back appear on the screen and I hold my breath, waiting for his response.

  Crew: I thought about New Year’s while in Germany, thought we’d be spending it together. What happened, Hazel?

  I pick up the collar of my shirt and attempt to dry my eyes before texting back. I’m a complete mess.

  Hazel: We’re both going down different paths in our lives.