Page 211 of Tangled with the Tight End

“I do. I got up early to help cover a shift at the bakery. Emberleigh called last night. Their part-timer is sick.”

“So you were up before the sun?”

“Can you believe it?”

“Yes. When you’re needed, you make it happen.”

“Pastry and coffee were involved. I didn’t torture myself for nothing.”

For a brief moment, I second-guess everything. Can’t we make this work? I practically choke on the idea of calling it off. But I think of Winona sobbing in her room, of the attacks she endured at the stadium, online, at her own home. Enough is enough. Staying with her would be pure selfishness.

“Want me to come over now?” she asks.

I feel like I’m leading a lamb to slaughter.

“Yeah. Now is as good as anytime.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few.”

She shows up ten minutes later, smiling and pulling me into a hug. I can’t help myself, I bend and place a soft, slow kiss on her lips. I’m greedy for the last bit of what we have with one another. I’m like a traveler on his last day of vacation, picking up shells, scooping sand into a jar, taking photos of every single sight. I want to keep it all even though I’m leaving.

Winona follows me into the house.

“You’re walking well, even after a game.”

“I feel good. Treatment helps.”

“I’m so glad.”

I sit on the couch. Instead of her usual chair, Winona comes and sits next to me.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come over yesterday. I was … tired.”

“Cass told me.”

“Cass … ?” Winona glances down and then lifts her eyes to meet mine. “She told you about what happened at the game?”

“She had assumed you already told me.”

“I didn’t want to sour your first game back. It was fine. I handled it. I wanted to be there to support you no matter what.”

“I know. And I knew it every time I stepped onto the field. I knew where you were in the stands and I played knowing you were watching.”

She smiles.

“But this has gone too far, Winona.”

“It’s okay, Declan.”

“No. It’s not. And I’ve done a lot of thinking. I called Kate too.”

She’s quiet.

“If we call this off, the spotlight will shift off you. Maybe it will take a few days or even a week, but they won’t stalk you. People will lose interest in you. And you won’t have to endure this kind of treatment anymore.”

Her body flinches and her brows draw in. “Are you saying you’re breaking up with me?”

I place my hand over hers.