The Romantic Pact (Kings of Football)(95)

I pause in my 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.