Page 132 of The Keeper

Carina’s lips parted. This was the first time I’d admitted it out loud, and I didn’t need to clarify that the love I felt for her was different than the one I felt for my friends. The way her entire face softened told me she knew exactly what I meant.

The confession had been on my mind since my mother asked me about it a month ago. I hadn’t planned on saying it today, not even indirectly. I’d wanted to wait for the right moment, but sometimes, the universe had a way of giving you what you desired in entirely unexpected ways. Because what better moment was there than this one, sitting in the same booth where I’d asked Carina to stay all those months ago? We hadn’t been dating yet, but even then, I’d known she was the one. I just hadn’t been ready to admit it.

“I’m glad,” Carina said softly. “Because I wouldn’t want to live apart from the person I love either.”

The moment settled around us like a warm embrace. Natural and easy, the way it’d always felt between us.

For years, I thought that moving back to Michigan after I retired was a given. It made sense—it was where I grew up, and I could be close to my parents while Evie was in college and building her own life.

But when the chance to make that a reality landed in my inbox, it’d filled me with dread instead of relief. I couldn’t imagine leaving London yet. This was where my life was. As for my parents…maybe one day, they’d change their minds about moving here. If not, we’d figure it out. That was a problem for an older and hopefully wiser Noah. For now, I was happy to stay exactly where I was with the woman I loved.

The moment dissolved when Evie returned to the table, her face filled with curiosity. “What are you talking about? Why do you look so serious?” she asked. She carried a giant bowl of vanilla ice cream buried beneath what looked like every topping the parlor offered.

I eyed the bowl. She was going to have a hell of a sugar rush later, but it was the end of summer, and she had beaten me in our race earlier. I let it slide.

“We were talking about my Blackcastle renewal,” I said.

She climbed into the seat next to me. “Are you transferring?”

“No, nothing like that. But I was thinking about maybe quitting football,” I said, opting to tell her the truth. She’d proved she could handle serious conversations, and I’d wanted to discuss the possibility with her before I made a concrete decision anyway.

Evie’s forehead wrinkled. “Why? You love football.” Her eyes widened, tiny bursts of panic flickering through them. “Is it your shoulder? Is it because you can’t play anymore?”

“My shoulder’s fine,” I assured her. It’d fully healed in time for the start of the season this week. “I was thinking about quitting because I wanted to spend more time at home.”

“To do what?” She appeared genuinely baffled.

“To, uh, work on my hobbies and spend more time with you.” I didn’t want to put my decision all on her. That would make her feel guilty. But I also hadn’t thought through what retirement would really look like.

“But you don’t have any hobbies besides football,” Evie said.

Carina snorted out a laugh. I glared at her, but she just grinned, her eyes bright with amusement. “I told your dad he needs to find more interests outside sports,” she said. “We’re working on it.”

“Oh, okay.” Evie dug into her ice cream. “We already spend a lot of time together though. I don’t think you need to quit football for that.”

I tried not to look hurt. “You don’t want to spend more time with me?” That was a plot twist I hadn’t been expecting.

“I do! But I read that it’s very important for parents and children to have separate and full lives,” she explained. “We already have a lot of fun, and you love football. You don’t need to give it up for me.”

I stared at her, slightly speechless.

One, where was she reading this stuff? Probably in the same corners of the internet where Briana found her articles, which always happened to support the girls’ very specific arguments, like why puppies were better than humans (true) and frequent sleepover parties were crucial for a child’s social development (debatable).

Two, had I been so focused on the idea of retiring and becoming a better father that I’d missed the fact Evie didn’t want me to quit?

“What about when I have to travel for away matches?” I asked. “Or when I have to miss important events because of football? Doesn’t that bother you?”

“It does, but it’s part of your job,” Evie admitted. “You’re there for the really important stuff, like my birthday and Christmas. And you’re not gone that much. Like, Briana’s mom has to work late all the time, especially when she has a big trial. Stacey’s dad is a consultant, and she sees him maybe once a week. He’s always traveling, and he doesn’t even bring her back good presents.”

“Oh,” I managed.

I felt like an idiot. This conversation hadn’t gone the way I’d expected at all, but I guess it was good we’d had it before I retired based on an assumption. I’d learned not to assume so much anymore, but Evie’s lack of grievance still threw me for a loop. So many years spent beating myself up for not being there for every little moment, and it turned out she hadn’t counted the moments I missed—only the ones I’d been there for.

My mind spun as the implication of her words sunk in. Now that she’d given me her blessing to stay at Blackcastle, would I still want to retire? The World Cup made me realize I wasn’t ready to give up on football entirely yet, so maybe I had a few more years left on the pitch after all.

Across the table, Carina watched me, her expression questioning. I was about to talk the implications through with her when my phone buzzed with another new text. I almost ignored it. Then I read it, and I had to do a double take.

I snatched my phone up and read the message a third time, sure I was seeing things. The text remained exactly the same.