I hope one day Iâll be able to forgive myself for hurting him. I hope I look back and realize this was the best decision for both me and Preston because right now, I want to pull him into my arms and tell him I didnât mean anything Iâve said.
From the moment I left Margoâs house, the comments on my video have been at the forefront of my mind. I think some of their points have been in the back of my mind from the moment I decided to come back to Manhattan with Preston and follow along with him this season.
Deep down, I knew I was falling back into a cycle I wanted to break. I kept telling myself that I had this career and that perhaps I could find myself while still being with him. But Preston deserves to have all of me, and I deserve to find myself before I end up losing myself in someone else.
I hate that I let the trolls get to me, but some of them had a point. The timing for Preston and me isnât right at the moment, no matter how much it hurts to admit that to myself.
âIâm sorry,â I tell him, wrapping my fingers in the fabric of his T-shirt.
âCan you at least tell me what changed your mind?â I hate the way his voice breaks. I know he doesnât like to be vulnerable. He takes a deep breath, his cobalt eyes searching my face for answers. âThis morning, everything seemed so perfect. What changed that?â
I swallow, not knowing how to answer him. So instead, I go with the truth, wondering if itâll sound silly when I say it out loud. âI was looking at comments on my most recent post, and there was comment after comment of people saying you could do better than mâ ââ
âI donât give a fuck what any of them think. Please donât tell me youâre ending this between us because of that. Because of them.â He practically spits the last word, making me second-guess even bringing up what got me thinking deeper into our relationship.
âNo, itâs not that. I want to find myself in this world and on my own terms. But Iâm not ready to have people dissect my life the way they are. If I keep going the way that I am, I feel like Iâll lose more of myself every day, and you donât deserve that. I donât deserve that.â
He winces, his eyes closing for a minute as he lets out a long breath. I hate how stiff his muscles are under my hands, that not even the press of my skin against his is comforting him.
I never wanted to hurt him, but itâs better to walk away now than down the road when weâre even deeper in this. It isnât a secret that I started my journey by openly sharing it with the world. I was opening myself up to scrutiny, but the opinions that came from me posting on social media are nothing in comparison to the attention Iâve received since the public caught wind of me dating Preston.
People follow us everywhere, always screaming their opinions at us anytime we go out in public, and I thought I was tough enough to swim in this fishbowl with him with the constant attention he gets, but the reality is, Iâm not.
I hope to one day be, but that time isnât now.
âI wish I could change your mind,â he mutters, his voice emotionless. âI wish you werenât just letting this end between us. Not when I feel like things are just beginning. Not when I really thought things were perfect.â
His words feel like a punch to the gut. Everything would be perfect if I felt like I was in a place where I was ready. I want that with him, but not until I feel better about where Iâm at in my life.
I let out a shaky breath, trying to regain my composure. âIâd never ask you to wait for me. I want you to live your life, but maybe the universe will work out for us and the timing will be right. Maybe weâll find each other again when Iâm happier with the path my life has taken, and youâve won that Super Bowl you so deserve.â
He doesnât say anything. All he does is stare at me. His jaw flexes as his eyes scan my face. I want to know whatâs going through his headâor maybe I donât. Iâm already trying to stay strong by doing what I think is the right thing and putting a pause on things between us.
Although the past couple of months have been nothing short of amazing, I donât want to do long distance, only for us to end up getting torn apart. I donât want to grow to resent him because I didnât get to follow my own dreams.
At least now, maybe if things are right, weâll find each other again.
Weâve both never been in a relationship, and I donât want us to start on an unsteady foundation. He deserves to be all in for his season. When people interview him, I want them to ask about his success in the season and not about his relationship status. Especially when itâs clear that more and more people are wanting to know about us.
If he loses a game or throws a bad pass, I donât want my name to be the reason it happened. Heâs gone his whole career focusing on the sport; I want to give him that last year of doing it without me there as a potential distraction.
âIf I focus on football and give you the time you need, will you promise me that weâll revisit this? That this isnât over between us?â
The right thing to do would be to tell him he doesnât have to give me the time I need. I donât want him to think Iâm asking him to wait for me, but Iâve already said it once. If heâs sure that weâre meant to be and that weâll find our way back together after this, I donât have it in me to change his mind.
I nod, reaching up to cup his cheek in my hand. He was running late to practice this morning because I wouldnât let him leave our bed. Because of that, he didnât shave, so now that itâs almost dinner, stubble dusts both his cheeks. It scrapes the palm of my hand, and I try to memorize the feel of it.
âIf weâre meant to be, weâll find our way back to each other,â I get out, tears falling down my face.
Iâm trying my best not to cry and make this worse than it already is, but I canât help it. Heâs everything I want in a boyfriend and partner. Iâm just not who I want to be yet, and I donât want to lose the perfect guy later down the road because I never took the time to love and find myself first.
Preston leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. He keeps his lips there, his arms clinging to my sides with his next words. âI already know weâre meant to be, Emma. I want to give you the time to not only find yourself, but fall in love with who you are too. Iâll wait until youâre ready.â
A loud sob erupts from my chest. I wrap my arms around his middle, clinging to his body and wishing I never had to let go. Iâd spent all afternoon thinking this through. I know Iâm making the right decision. I know I need to spend time with Aunt V and take the time to figure out my next steps. I also know that he deserves to focus on his career one last time without any distractions. I know all of this, but it doesnât make it any easier.
âIâm so sorry, Preston. Everything with you was perfectâis so perfect. I just need some time. Iâm still happy I snuck into the club that night.â
âIâm so happy you did too, Em.â His voice is sad, shattering my already broken heart into a million pieces.
I donât know a lot about love. Iâve never been in love, but as I cling to his warm body, Iâm wondering if I was wrong for worrying about eventually falling in love with him. I think Iâve already fallen. I didnât mean to. I tried to guard my heart and be realistic that the odds were stacked against Preston and me, but my cautiousness was useless.
âI refuse to believe this is the end for us,â Preston says against my hair. âFor the next several months, I will devote myself to nothing but football. I hope youâll do the same and realize that you donât have to have your whole life figured out to be loved. And then, itâll be us together in the end. The rest of the world and their opinions be damned.â
I donât respond. All I do is savor the last few moments of feeling what itâs like to be wrapped in his arms. Iâve become so used to the feel of his body against mine, to his scent, even to the familiar beat of his heart. We may not have known each other the longest, but weâve spent every day together for months. I know him better than I ever thought, and itâs killing me having to let him go.
âGoodbye, Preston.â My words come out muffled because of my face being pressed to his chest. His arms tighten around me with the farewell, as if heâs trying to prolong the inevitable just a little bit longer.
I brace my palms against his chest and push off him. Iâm scared if I stay in his arms any longer that Iâll change my mind. Changing my mind wonât help either of us, not in the long run. Not if we actually want this to work between us.
âYou better win that Super Bowl, Rhodes.â I force a smile, wanting him to get that dream more than anything.
His eyes are red, making the cobalt blue color pop. âOnly if youâll celebrate with me after.â
âDeal.â Thereâs a lot of time between now and the Super Bowl in February. Maybe it isnât too far-fetched to think Iâll be in a better place by that time. Iâd love to celebrate his success after he wins it all like I know he will.
Preston tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, letting his fingers linger against my neck. âIâll miss you, Em. You let me know when youâre ready and Iâm yours.â
One last tear falls down my cheek. He watches it fall and land against my T-shirt. He stares at the small wet spot for a moment before he rips his eyes away and looks at my packed bags. âLet me help you get these to the elevator.â
âIâve got it,â I argue, trying to take the bag from him.
âEmma, if youâre going to break my heart, let me at least help you to the door.â
All I can do is nod, not knowing what to even say back to that. I let him lead me to the elevator, holding nothing but my purse as he grabs everything else. He presses the intercom next to the elevator, calling for one of the doormen to help me the rest of the way.
Standing in front of the metal doors, waiting for the elevator to reach our floor, makes everything seem so final. He stands a few feet away from me, his eyes on the ground. He doesnât say anything, and I donât either. I donât know if thereâs really anything else to say.
When the doors open, he hands my bags over to Benson, one of the doormen Iâve grown fond of since we came back to Manhattan. It happens too quickly. I want more time with him even when I know I shouldnât, when Iâm the one that made this decision for us.
Prestonâs eyes find mine, and I feel like the defeated way he looks at me will forever be burned in my mind. âRemember what I said, Em. I meant every word.â
And without any further goodbye, he turns and walks down the hallway to his condo.
I watch him the entire way.
When I turn to face Benson, I know the tears streaming down my face are obvious. I step in the elevator, trying to wipe them away. All my life, Iâve said I just wanted a man to want me and spoil me, and here I am finally getting one, and Iâm walking away from him. But itâs necessary. No matter how much it hurts.
Sadness washes over me as the elevator descends. All I can do is hope that I made the right decision. Putting myself first has never felt so shitty, but at the end of this, I hope Prestonâs right. I hope itâll be us.
If not, Iâll forever be grateful for the summer nights we spent together where he was mine.