by Melody Grace
He was leaving.
Of course, he was leaving all over again.
What had made her think it was any different this time?
Except, it was different. Back then, they’d been kids. As much as she’d pined for him, it wasn’t anything real. He’d had no idea how she felt, and even if he did, she would never in a million years have expected to change their future plans for each other.
But now?
Now, she knew the taste of his kisses, and the way his face changed when she took him over the edge. Now, they’d whispered through the night and woken curled in each other’s arms when morning came.
Now she loved him, with all her heart.
And he was leaving her.
Mackenzie gasped for air, trying so hard to hold back the tears, but she couldn’t stop them from silently running down her cheeks.
She’d through this was real, that he felt something for her, more than just a passing distraction. From the moment he’d kissed her that night in the gazebo, she’d tried so hard to play it safe, but she couldn’t help it. Then, and now, Jake Sullivan was the only one she’d ever wanted.
The only man to see her, really see her for everything that she was. Encourage her, and laugh with her, good days and bad.
And love her, the way she always dreamed.
Except, he hadn’t. Not really. Mackenzie thought back over the past months with a sickening sense of dread. What had he said, really? No promises, that was for sure; no sweet talk of the future, or plans for them to keep in mind. He’d taken her to bed in a whirl of passion and pleasure, but he’d never sworn to be there in the morning, now, or in the days to come.
She’d fallen for him so fast, she hadn’t stopped to realize that he was standing still in place, as far out of reach as he’d ever been.
The door swung open, and a couple of women entered in a clatter of high heels and chatter. Mackenzie turned away, hiding her face until they’d touched up their lipstick and gossiped about their lunch dates, and strutted back out into the restaurant.
She sucked in a desperate breath, and then another. She had to pull it together, until she was back in Sweetbriar Cove, at least. Then, maybe, she could collapse into the aching tears that gripped her chest, but for now, she still had to make it through the rest of lunch.
She could do this. It was just Jake.
Her Jake.
Mackenzie took a quick look in the mirror, swiping away the smear of mascara under her eyes. She fixed a smile on her face and forced herself back out of the door and over to their table. The group had swelled now: two more athletes, and a couple of shiny-haired girlfriends, spilling out of the booth and onto an adjoining table. Jake was the center of attention, and it was clear how much he was enjoying it: leaning back with a broad smile on his face, laughing right along with everyone.
He looked like his old self again, and despite everything, Mackenzie was glad. He deserved this, another chance to be happy again in his old world, and even though it cut straight through her to see she wasn’t a part of the equation, she knew anything was better than seeing him in pain.
“Hey babe,” Jake beckoned to her, making space beside him. “Do you want something to eat? We’ve got everything here. Or I can order for you?”
“No, it’s fine.” Mackenzie tried to smile. “I’m not hungry.”
“Then have a drink.” He thrust a champagne flute at her, as everyone at the table raised their glasses in another toast.
“To Jake!” Bob declared.
“LA, all the way!”
* * *
Lunch lasted half the afternoon, and somehow, Mackenzie managed to keep smiling the whole time, even as her heart was slowly breaking. At last, Bob and Rich called for the check, and they all clustered out on the street, flagging down cabs and saying their goodbyes.
“See you soon, man.” The guys slapped Jake’s back, and he grinned.
“Can’t wait.”
Mackenzie slid into the back of a cab and directed him to the hospital, where they’d left Jake’s car. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it was only a few hours. Was it really just this morning she’d woken in his arms and felt like they could face anything—together?
Jake climbed in beside her. “Great guys, huh?” he said, already scrolling through his phone. “Apparently, I’m going to need all kinds of social media accounts, they like their on-air talent to have a profile, you know? And I talked to my agent, he says I might not even lose my endorsements, not if I get enough screen time.”
“Is that what you want?” Mackenzie asked, as the city streets blurred outside the windows. “To be on TV?”
“I mean, it wasn’t the plan, but you heard what they said, I can be right there for all the big games, doing locker-room interviews. It’ll be like I never left.”
Jake was amped up, his excitement clear. Her heart beat a slow, broken beat.
“So when do you leave?”
He didn’t notice the ache in her voice. “Soon. The network wants me out there next week for screen tests and contracts, you know. If things go well, I could even be doing the Super Bowl coverage. Giving DeJay a run for his money,” he grinned, and Mackenzie swallowed back her pain.
“That’s great.”
Jake’s expression wavered, as if he knew something was wrong. But he didn’t ask, he just looked back at his phone again, and the rest of their short ride passed in silence. They drew up beside his car.
“Thanks.” Jake paid the driver and climbed out. He had his keys in his hand, but Mackenzie headed for the driver’s side all the same. “You were celebrating,” she said. “I can drive.”
“It’s OK, I’m good.”
She shook her head. She needed the distraction, something to focus on, because she knew two hours in the passenger seat would be unbearable. “You shouldn’t stress your knee, remember?”
Jake tossed the keys over. “Good point. Commentating isn’t the same as playing, but I’m still going to have to be careful, all that standing around in the studio.”
She got behind the wheel and turned the radio on, just loud enough to make talking hard. The miles blurred past, the city streets unfurling to the cool gray tones of the waterfront heading up the Cape, and all the while, she waited for Jake to say something. Anything. About their future, maybe, or why he’d spun his life on a dime and signed up to a whole new career, in less time than it had taken for her coffee to get cold. What it meant for the two of them—or if there was even a two of them in his mind.
But Jake just kept playing with his phone, until finally, they drew up outside her place. Mackenzie turned off the engine.
“Well, this is goodnight, I guess,” she said quietly.
Jake stopped, his hand already on the door handle to get out. “You don’t want me to stay?”
He looked surprised, and she fought to corral her whirlwind emotions. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mackenzie said slowly. “Do you?”
Jake’s expression settled in a stubborn frown. “Is there something you want to say? You’ve been in a mood all afternoon, so clearly something is on your mind.”
Mackenzie felt a pang. She’d seen that expression a dozen times before, and she knew exactly what it meant.
She shook her head. “I’m not going to do this, Jake.”
“Do what?” he asked. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Yes, you do,” Mackenzie said gently. “I know you, remember? I know that you’re feeling guilty right now, only you don’t want to, so you’re getting resentful instead. If you come inside, you’re just going to pick a fight,” she continued, “so you can tell yourself I’m acting crazy and unreasonable, and then you won’t have to feel guilty anymore. You did the exact same thing junior year, remember? We agreed to go to the winter formal together, and then you found out Sophie McAllister wanted you to ask her, so you picked that stupid fight so you could cancel on me and take her instead.”
“You’re mad about some high-school dance?�
�� Jake asked, raising his eyebrows. “That’s ridiculous.”
“No, I’m not. But you already know that.” Mackenzie grabbed her purse and got out of the car. She was halfway to her door when Jake’s voice came from behind her.
“I thought you’d be happy for me.”
She turned. He was standing there on the sidewalk, his arms folded, with that familiar stubborn expression on his face.
“I am happy for you,” Mackenzie replied sadly. It would be a lot easier if she could just feel betrayed, or mad, but she wanted this for him. He deserved it.
“So why are you being like this?”
Her patience finally ran thin. “Why do you think, Jake? I find out that you’re moving all the way across the country, and all you do is pour champagne.”
His jaw clenched. “It’s a great opportunity.”
“I know.”
“And in case you hadn’t noticed, my options are kind of limited these days!” he exclaimed. “What am I supposed to do, now that I can’t play anymore? At least this way I get to still be part of the game, part of a team.”
“In California,” she said quietly.
“Sweetbriar Cove isn’t exactly bursting with professional football teams!” Jake shot back. “I can’t play, I can’t do anything. There’s nothing for me here!”
Mackenzie felt the words like a blow. She reeled back.
“There is something,” she said, aching. He looked away.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, you did.” Mackenzie was blinking back tears now, all her worst fears confirmed. “This was just a temporary thing for you, wasn’t it? A distraction, while you waited to get back to your real life in the spotlight.”
“Mackenzie—”
“No, don’t apologize! I get it.” She wiped her cheeks furiously, hating herself for letting him see her cry. “I should have known from the start, from the way you kept pushing me away. But I wanted you too much, I didn’t stop to think about . . .” Her voice cracked, but she forced herself to keep going.
“. . . About what would happen when you were done.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Jake said, moving closer. “We can do long-distance. You can visit, all the time. And I’ll be traveling, for the games—”
“No.” Mackenzie shook her head so hard her hair rustled around her face. “I’m not going to sit around waiting for you. Wondering where you are, and who you’re with. And then what? Where could it possibly go?”
Jake looked uneasy. “Maybe you could move out there. LA’s a great city. You’d love it: the weather, the bars . . .”
Mackenzie gave a hollow laugh. “This is my home,” she said. “I’ve built a life here, one that I love. My family, and my job, my friends . . . Am I really supposed to give all this up for a man who can’t even look me in the eye and tell me how he feels about me?”
Jake stared at the ground. “I don’t know what to say to you. I mean, we’ve just been dating a few weeks.”
“No, we haven’t,” Mackenzie said, feeling a calm wave of clarity that almost numbed the bitter ache. “This hasn’t been some casual thing, and you know it. I’m in love with you,” she said simply. “I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen.”
Jake’s head snapped up at her words, his eyes filling with emotion, and for a moment, Mackenzie almost thought he was in reach.
Then he took a step back. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, and Mackenzie’s last hope scattered on the cold December wind.
“Sorry,” she repeated numbly. That was all he had to offer her, after she’d laid her heart out for him to take.
“You deserve better than me,” he said, his voice twisting. “See, I’m fucking things up without even trying. I just . . . I have to do this. I’m nothing without football, OK? It’s been my whole life, and now . . . now I can’t just sit around and talk about the glory days, like some washed-up hack.”
“So don’t,” Mackenzie urged him desperately. “You can build a new life, you have brains, and determination, you can figure it out. We could,” she added, “together.”
But Jake shook his head. “I don’t want your pity.”
“This isn’t pity!” Mackenzie exclaimed, “I’m telling you that I want this. We could be something real, something incredible. But it’s no use,” she added, deflating as reality slipped back in. “This never meant anything real to you, did it?”
His silence told her everything he needed to know. The truth right there in the empty space between them.
“God, how stupid do I have to be, falling for you all over again?” She shook her head bitterly. “I would do anything for you, but you don’t want me enough to even try.”
“Mac—” Jake’s voice was twisted and raw, but she didn’t want to see the guilt on his face.
“No, don’t.” She forced herself to draw up to her full height and look him straight in the eyes, for what would be the last time. “You go to California. Go where you think you belong.”
She unlocked her door with shaking hands and then slammed it shut behind her. She sank back, sobbing against the wall and slid to the ground. Her heart still ached, hoping against the odds that she’d hear his footsteps coming closer, and his fist pounding on the door. She’d open up, and he’d tell her that he loved her, and they would hold each other tightly and never let go.
But the footsteps never came. His headlights flared, bright through the window, and then she had to sit there on the floor, listening to him drive away.
23
Jake almost went back.
Driving away that night with Mackenzie’s cottage getting farther in the rearview mirror. Packing up his stuff at Cooper’s place. Getting on a flight to California, and watching the snowy curve of the Cape drop out of view. He almost did it, a hundred times.
But what could he say? That he was sorry for hurting her, but he didn’t see another way to make himself worth something again? That he hadn’t realized what guilt truly looked like until he felt the crushing shame of putting that heartache in her eyes?
That he’d loved her all along.
It was too late for that now. He saw it on her face, he’d failed her. She’d given him her heart, and he’d been so caught up in his own stupid pride that he didn’t see what was right in front of him.
She was best thing that had ever happened to him, and he hadn’t even realized it until she was gone.
24
The worst part about living in such a small town was that word of her breakup traveled fast. All Mackenzie had to do was send a heartbroken text to her friends, and by Monday morning, she was getting sympathetic looks from passers-by on the street as she walked to go get breakfast. Was it really so obvious? She’d washed her hair and even put on a clean pair of jeans, after spending the weekend in sweatpants, wrapped up in a numb, heartbroken haze. But clearly, Mackenzie’s half-hearted attempts to hide her pain weren’t working, because the moment she stepped through the door of the bakery, Summer was at her side.
“Hey,” Summer said, her voice warm. “Come sit down. I just baked a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls, and there are two with your name on them.”
“And have a cup of tea,” Franny pitched in from the next table. “Nothing’s so bad with a nice cup of Earl Grey.”
Her phone buzzed with a text. It was her mom. I’m here if you want to talk.
Mackenzie sighed and looked around. “Is there anyone on the Cape who doesn’t know I’ve been dumped?”
Summer winced. “Sorry.”
“Maybe Hank at the market?” Franny suggested. “You know his hearing isn’t what it used to be.”
“Nope,” said Ellie Lucas, who was just leaving with a paper bag of pastries. “I was just in there getting detergent, and they were talking about it. He offered to go whoop Jake’s ass, if that helps.”
Mackenzie sighed. “He’d have to go all the way to California.”
She didn’t want to sit out in the café, with all the tongues w
agging, so she followed Summer into the kitchen in back. Every surface was covered in holiday treats, and for good reason: the Starbright Festival officially kicked off that night, and the whole town had gone celebration-crazy.
Mackenzie leaned against the counter and snaffled a broken piece of gingerbread. She knew it must be delicious, but she couldn’t taste a thing. Maybe she was still in shock: after Jake had left, she’d dragged herself to her potter’s wheel and spent the weekend turning out new stock for the gallery, losing herself in the steady spinning of the clay until she could barely feel anything at all.
“So, how are you feeling?” Summer asked, piping some frosting on a line of star-shaped cookies. “Or is that a dumb question?”
Mackenzie gave a helpless shrug.
“What happened?” Summer shot her an anxious look. “I mean, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. All I heard was that he went to take that job in LA.”
Mackenzie took a deep breath. “That’s pretty much the whole story. I told him I loved him, and he left.” Her voice twisted on the words, and Summer dropped the frosting tub to sweep her into a hug.
“I’m so sorry, babe.”
“Me too.” Mackenzie gulped back the tears. “I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I can’t even hate him, because he didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one diving in the deep end, not waiting a second to see if he felt the same.”
“If he didn’t, then he’s crazy,” Summer said firmly. “Who wouldn’t love you?”
Mackenzie gave a wistful smile. “Pretty much every guy I’ve ever dated.”
Summer didn’t have a reply for that. She held out a cookie. “Well, we love you. And I’m proud of you, you know.”
“For what?” Mackenzie asked, surprised.
“For knowing what you’re worth.” Summer gave her a rueful look. “I’ve been in your shoes, and I know how tempting it is to just take whatever he’s willing to give you—even if that’s not enough.”