Page 295 of Cross Check

He stares at the living room where we curled up next to each other on the couch. His eyes move to the recliner where we had sex, the night I climbed on top of him and he laughed into the curve of my neck when the chair tipped us back and nearly sent us flying to the floor. The fireplace he’d light so the room would be warm and cozy when I got home.

“I guess. We had a good run, didn’t we?” he asks.

“The best run.” My throat is scratchy. It takes all of my self-control to not let the tears break free. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Except I would change everything.

I’d be more careful. I’d take a job somewhere else. We’d move to Europe where he’d play in a different league that didn’t care that we were together, and we could be happy.

But we’re not.

“I wouldn’t either.” There’s a long pause. I let myself look at him in the silence, categorizing the beard he’s started to grow and how his hair is longer before. Tiny pieces stick out from under the bill of his hat, and I want to tuck them behind his ears. “No one is ever going to be as good to me as you were, Lia.”

I can’t fight it anymore. A tear escapes and rolls down my cheek, but Grant is there. There’s a hand on the back of my neck, a thumb wiping away the evidence of my pain. Smudged paint on a canvas. Spilled wine the color of blood while my heart feels like it’s being ripped out of my chest.

“Don’t cry,” he whispers, resting his forehead against mine. When I blink, I find tears on his own cheeks. It’s so typical of him to take care of me before he takes care of himself. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you. For being selfish and putting myself above you. Above us.”

“Don’t ever apologize for going after what you want, baby. I’m so proud of you, Lia. And I’ll be fine. I promise I’ll be fine, but I have to tell you something, because we’ve only ever been honest with each other. It’s the last secret of the day I’ll ever bother you with.”

“What?” I whisper. The word splinters into a thousand pieces, each one a memory I’ll have to forget.

Last.

Bother.

This is it.

“I’m never going to stop loving you. I’m going to wait for you in the off chance you ever want to pick me again when the time comes. You’re it for me, and I’m never going to love anyone else. Not when they won’t hold a candle to how I feel about you. You’re the greatest gift I’ve ever been given, and I’d do it all again. Even this part.”

That should make me happy, but in a way, it makes me feel worse.

He’s going to be miserable because of me, and that’s a responsibility I never wanted to have.

I sniff, wanting to respond but not knowing what to say. Before I can gather my thoughts, my phone is chiming in my pocket. Grant’s is blaring too, and we separate to look at the devices.

Is it another article? More pictures? I can’t take another gut punch from the media, but a message from Emmy sits in the center of my screen.

Six words bring my heart to a screeching halt.

Bylaw passed. Go get your man.

“Oh my god,” I whisper.

“Holy shit,” he whispers in return, and our gazes jerk to meet each other. “Did you just—the bylaw.”

“The bylaw.”

“It passed.”

“That means…” I lick my lips. “What does that mean?”

“Let me make a call,” Grant says, and he steps away to press his phone to his ear.

I wait. Somehow five minutes feels longer than the four weeks I just suffered through. My heart is in my throat. I can’t stop pacing, a million scenarios running through my mind.

We can be together.