that he was right but needing to give the honest answer.
He nodded. “I guess it’s gratifying to know that much at least,” he finally said.
She swallowed. For some reason, her throat was tight and hot.
“Then I guess this really is goodbye.” His words came out with a finality that pierced through her ribs, that she didn’t want to hear, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
He snapped the towel again, with more force, frustration on his face. He started to turn away, then turned back and said in a rush, “What if I—”
“No.” It was her turn to hold her hand up. “You’re not giving up football.”
A shadow of a smile crossed his face, and he grunted. “How did you know? And that’s what I’m talking about. Right there. Do you know how rare that is? I mean, you get me. You get all of me.” She wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that. “I don’t want to lose that. I want to fight for that.”
“I’d fight for it too, but I’ve already been there. It’s just heartache. I would hate it, because you wouldn’t have time for me, and you’d be busy, and that would make me feel like I’m not really that important to you, like every single day you’re choosing something else over me.”
“That’s only during the season. I can make time for you. People do it all the time. Half the team is married. Somehow, they make it work.”
“How many of those marriages last?” she asked, not wanting to be negative but knowing she was right.
He looked away. She suspected the failure of most of those marriages was more than just not having time for spouses. She supposed there was probably a lot of temptation, a lot of dissatisfaction, a lot of women who would be willing and eager to comfort a man who was fighting with his wife.
Just guessing, since she really didn’t know.
But a feeling she didn’t like lay like slime in the pit of her stomach. It curled and crawled, and she hated the guilt it produced.
He’s trying so hard, and you’re shutting him down at every turn. Why not take this chance?
It had to be her heart speaking, because her brain was shouting no. She’d been here before, she’d cried rivers, she’d wanted to stalk Alex, chase him, beg him to take her, to choose her, to stand there again, between the two choices, and not turn away from her.
She’d become someone she didn’t like.
She vowed never to do it again.
And yet...
“All right.”
His head snapped up. She hated the hope flashing his eyes, which made her feel even worse.
To see him hurting hurt her.
“Let’s write. Letters. We’ll write to each other. We’ll see if you make time for that. Wouldn’t that be a start?” she asked, humbly, because she wanted to close the distance between them and put her arms around him and give him whatever he wanted, just to see his face clear and his lips smile again. She hated that the pain on his face was from her. Because of her fear, her trying to protect herself from pain.
Hated that.
She liked the hope on it much better, and the way his eyes crinkled and his lips turned up.
“Like old-fashioned snail mail with pencil and paper? That’s your suggestion?” he said with a firmness that made her narrow her eyes.
“Well, yeah. It seems like a compromise. That way, if you don’t have time for me, maybe it won’t hurt quite so bad, and yet we’re still maybe trying to make it work. Right?”
“You’re right. I’ll write to you. How many letters a week do you want?”
She grinned. “How many do you think?” She didn’t want this to be all her.
“I’ll write you when I get your letter. That day. So, you control how often.”
“It’s a deal.”
He threw his towel on the table next to her neatly folded one. “I’m liking this, except, before, when we were saying goodbye, I was hoping for a goodbye kiss. Now, I’m trying to think of another excuse and coming up empty.”
“An excuse?”
“Sure. What can I give as a reason to kiss you?”
“So that’s how you do it in the city? You need a reason?”
“Oh, that’s right. Out here in Mistletoe, you guys just put random strangers in a contest and have them kissing for no reason.”
“That’s right.”
“So maybe we can start practicing for next year’s contest?”
“You get points for being original.” She walked closer, putting her hands on his chest.
“That feels like