IT’S BEEN a week since I landed at the SeaTac Airport. I’d completed my finals and then hastily booked the first flight home, yearning to put some distance between myself and the whirlwind of mistakes I left behind.
A huge part of me regrets that morning—the way I left West asleep in his bed, our bodies still carrying the warmth of our night together. A heated goodbye kiss that somehow crossed the line into something more . . . something that wasn’t part of my plan.
Yet just because it happened doesn’t mean I had a total change of heart. I still stand by the intentions I laid out from the start. Or, at least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
A newly mended relationship facing nearly three months of separation
. . . it’s a recipe for heartbreak. West needs to focus on his training, and I can focus on my family.
My insecurities shouldn’t be the distraction he has to deal with when he has so much at stake: his performance, the prospect of entering the draft after the season. I couldn’t bear to be the one who screwed it up for him. And I know if we stayed together, he would only be thinking about how to make me happy all summer.
So yes, there will be girls swarming over him throughout our time apart. Cheerleaders, jersey chasers, summer school co-eds, and I’ll be here, hundreds of miles away, wishing to trade places with any one of them.
That’s a large part of the reason I slipped away from our warm bed that morning. Any longer and my defenses might’ve crumbled, and my insecurities would’ve gotten the best of me. Maybe if I were stronger, if I
weren’t so scared, I could handle the months apart without worrying that I’m an unnecessary distraction.
As it stands, he might decide that all this isn’t worth it come September.
Because I messed up too. We had something good, something pure and real, and I pushed him away.
I have no doubt he’s upset with me, probably thinks I’m not worth the trouble. After all, I haven’t heard from him since I left. I don’t know if he passed his courses, if he’s taking summer credits, or if he even knows that I flew home.
For now, we’re miles apart, each in our own worlds. I’ve made my choices, and now I have to live with them. Alone.
Despite understanding that I brought this upon myself, I’ve been moping around the house all week, prompting my parents to worry over my “mood.” It’s touching in a way but also a stark reminder of what it feels like to be constantly under their watchful gaze.
It’s been thirteen days since I’ve heard from West. Thirteen days filled with self-pity, regret, and half-baked apologies that he’ll never hear. However, that doesn’t give my parents the right to invade my space. I’m an adult, capable of making my own decisions.
If I choose to relish in a steaming cup of coffee at eight o’clock at night, alone in complete silence, that’s my prerogative.
Except, according to my dad, it’s not.
My father strolls into the kitchen, a picture of feigned surprise as he spots me, using the clever ploy to cover the concern in his eyes. He guides his four-wheeled walker to my side, flipping its seat open before settling down next to me. “Hey, kiddo, you sure you’re doin’ okay?”
I manage to stretch my lips into a tight-lipped smile, the effort straining my already worn-out resolve. “Yeah, Dad,” I reassure him, “I’m good.”
“Well, you know you don’t have to be,” he reminds me gently, a hint of sadness lingering in his eyes. “Not around me, anyway.”
“I know.” My reply comes out as a mere whisper, my shoulders slumping under the weight of the truth. “And I’m sorry I’ve been so mopey lately. I really did miss you and Ma.”
His response is a heartening grin. “Don’t you worry. We know ya did, kiddo. But we have a little surprise for you out in the living room.”
Confusion knits my brows. “What is it?”
A spark of mischief ignites in his eyes as he suggests, “Why don’t you go on and find out? I’ll catch up.”
I peel myself off the kitchen stool and head down the twisted hallway. The sounds of hushed whispers float my way, slowly growing louder with each step. A familiar feminine voice tinged with a hint of anticipation— that’s definitely my mom. But the next voice sends a jolt of surprise coursing through me—a deep, rich tone that unmistakably belongs to my brother.
I dash into the living room. “Ace!” I shout, tackling him into a forceful hug.
A warm chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Thank God we’re back to this.”
“You’re home!” I stretch onto my toes to ruffle his perfectly styled hair. “You told me you’d be too busy this summer.”
His smirk is all-knowing. “Then Ma called and said you’ve been down in the dumps. Had to make an exception for my little sis.”
A flash of annoyance sweeps over me. “Mom! Can’t you and Dad keep some things to yourself?”
“Sorry, angel,” she murmurs, a soft, almost guilty smile playing on her lips. “I thought we might need some backup.”
Despite my exasperation, I can’t stop my own smile in return. “Nosy.”
She rises from the couch, crossing the room to join my dad, who had slowly entered, the wheels of his walker clicking rhythmically against the threshold. “Well, your nosy father and I are going to sleep early tonight,” she tells me. “Why don’t you spend some time with Mica instead of drinking that awful coffee?”
I cast a glance toward the kitchen, where my coffee still sits, now untouched and forgotten. My dad follows my gaze and chuckles. “I already tossed it.”
I mutter a soft “meddling parents” under my breath, just audible enough for them to hear.
Mica nudges me on the shoulder, a playful spark in his eyes. “Come on, Lil. Let’s go out to our swing.”
After hugging our parents good night, Mica and I make our way outside. The back patio is home to a large wooden porch swing, faintly illuminated by the soft glow of the outdoor lights. It might be a simple piece of furniture, but it’s always been one of my favorite places in the world.
I claim the swing before Mica can react, sprawling out on the bench, feet kicked up in an exaggerated display of comfort. He scowls, a playful threat in his voice. “You better scoot your ass over, or I’m gonna crush you.”
“Hey!” I feign indignation. “Aren’t you here to cheer me up?”
His laugh is rich, a sound I’ve missed more than I realized. “That doesn’t mean I can’t threaten you with bodily harm.”
In mock protest, I shift into a seated position. “You’re the ass,” I grumble, bumping my shoulder against his.
Unfazed by my jab, he plops down beside me, stretching his arms out leisurely across the backrest. “Lili, I’m gonna need you to fly out for at least five of my games this year.”
“Five?” I scoff. “You realize that Garrett’s finally letting me cover the Dayton games, right?”
“Are you trying to say that Dayton football is more important than your family?”
“I’m saying my potential career in sports journalism is just as important as you and your career.”
A low whistle escapes his lips. “Damn. How about three games, then?” “Sure.” I huff out a laugh. “We’ll make it happen.”
There’s a noticeable shift in his demeanor. “Are you ever gonna tell me what happened between you and West?”
“I would if it was any of your business.”
His gaze hardens, his protective nature surfacing. “You’re my sister. Everything about you is my business. And if he hurt you, I’ll kill that little fucker.”
Hastily, I attempt to dissolve his worry. “It’s not like that,” I insist. “He just made a careless mistake, and I ended things. He tried to mend it, but I thought it’d be better if we took a break for the summer. That’s all.”
He raises a questioning brow. “What kind of mistake are we talking about here?”
I shake my head, a clear dismissal. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all water under the bridge anyway. We’re not together now, and it’s probably for the best.”
I’m still not entirely sure who I’m trying to fool here. But what I do know is that I wouldn’t have made the decision to leave—to put this physical distance between us—if I didn’t need to.
There’s a reason I choose to spend my summers here instead of staying behind at Dayton. The same reason I always seek solace in the comforts of our childhood home, in the presence of our mom and dad.
“So, you’re the one that ended it?”
I nod, mustering a tight smile. “You know I always look forward to spending my summers here, but I also need to be here, Ace. With family. With our dad, most of all. He’s doing okay for now, but who knows how much longer he’ll be in this condition?”
“And you didn’t think West would wait for you?”
“No, I know he would. I just—I thought it was all too complicated. We’re hundreds of miles apart. And I’ve never been in a serious relationship before, not like the one we had. Long distance just seems really tough, and especially for two people who don’t quite have their shit together.”
“And now that you’re home, spending all this time without him, you still think you made the right decision?”
“I thought so,” I confess, tears stinging at the back of my eyes. “But now, I’m not so sure I can handle it. I just . . . really miss him. I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping us apart, but I let fear take over, and maybe I pushed him away when I shouldn’t have.”
“It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“Maybe.” I nervously twist a curl between my fingers. “But I’m not even going to see him again until September.”
He rubs the scruff on his chin. “If you want to work things out, you don’t have to wait.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t have to wait until September,” he clarifies. “You can fly back to Dayton next weekend.”
“Ace, I don’t—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there.” He places a heavy hand on my shoulder, gaze steady and serious. “I know what you’re about to say—that you don’t have money to spend on a ticket. But you already know what’s mine is yours.”
“You’ll pay for my flight to go visit him?” I choke out, shocked by the suggestion. “My ex-boyfriend?”
“If it makes you happy, I’ll pay for whatever you want. And I know West probably royally screwed things up, but you forgave him. That’s
enough for me to know he’s a good guy. Besides, I kinda liked the kid.” “Are you still trying to suck up to me ’cause you slept with Shan?”
“Jesus, Lili,” he chokes out, clearing his throat before asking, “Is it working?”
Laughter bubbles up from inside me. “Yeah, it’s working.”
“So, what do you think?” he asks, nudging me slightly. “You heading back to Dayton for the weekend?”
The laughter dies down, and I’m left with a comforting silence. My thoughts clear as I mull over his words. “Yeah.” I finally nod. “Yeah, I am.” It feels like an internal barrier just crumbled down. A decision made not out of fear but out of a desire for something more, something real. I’m tired of thinking about what makes the most sense on paper. I’m tired of thinking
about what’s rational and logical.
Because who wants a relationship based on cold, calculating logic? That’s not what drew me to West in the first place. That’s certainly not what kept me up for the last twelve nights, longing for the comfort of his voice, waiting and wishing to hear from him again.
So, it’s time I take matters into my own hands now.
