Jace stood in line at Cubbies, a hip yupster restaurant he was fond of. His mind flashed to his cheating wife, Stacy, and anger surged through him. It’d been one of the things Stacy constantly complained about, his love of Cubbies. He liked to come here whenever he could, and she hated it. Over the course of their two-year marriage, it had actually gotten to a point where he didn’t even ask her to come with him. He would just come here by himself.

Jace had lost some weight since she’d announced she was divorcing him, and his trainer was on him about eating. So here he was. Luckily, the press hadn’t made too much of a fuss about the divorce. Or maybe that wasn’t really lucky, because it just proved how much Jace didn’t matter at the moment.

It was October, and he needed to focus—on the team, on training, on making himself worth the two-million-dollar contract he was getting. Currently, he wasn’t doing very well. In the last game, he’d dropped a touchdown, and some said it had been the reason they lost the game.

As much as he wished he could blame it all on Stacy and her childish ways, he knew that wouldn’t do. He had to find a way to deal with all of this.

When he’d met Stacy at a party after a game two years ago, when he’d first come to the Storm, she’d been completely mesmerized by him. Clearly, now she’d found others to be mesmerized by. It stung, but if he were honest, he’d felt an emptiness between them for a long time.

He stared up at the menu, already planning on ordering his usual: the avocado cheese sandwich with sweet potato fries and a Coke. Yeah, he still drank Coke, so what? Stacy hated that too. She’d gone completely “clean” in her eating the past year, and he always came home to a fridge full of chicken feed. Where was the meat? Where were the cookies? Something? Anything substantial?

He thought of the cookies the neighbor across the street had brought over a couple of days ago. It was silly, but the cookies had felt heaven-sent. He hadn’t had a homemade chocolate chip cookie in as long as he could remember, and he’d felt a twinge of guilt after seeing her on the porch—some blonde angel sent from heaven whose name he didn’t even remember. He’d seen her and her husband every now and then, and when he and Stacy had first moved in, she and her husband had reached out and asked them to dinner. Of course, Jace and Stacy had never reciprocated. Part of it was his work schedule was so crazy; the other part was Stacy didn’t cook. She pretty much lived off of cardboard protein bars, always worried she would gain an ounce. Sure, he appreciated a woman who took care of herself, but c’mon! Stacy had made herself so miserable in regards to food.

He thought of all the missed calls from his mother. He hadn’t spoken to her in person about the divorce yet, which was killing her. He would have to talk to his parents soon. The problem was that they had never liked Stacy anyway. His mother had always said Stacy never liked them, pointing out that she never asked them over or came to family dinners. He had denied it, constantly making excuses for Stacy, but his mother had been right. Stacy didn’t like them. Just thinking about it made shame chew through his gut.

After ordering, he surveyed the crowded tables. There wasn’t a seat in the place. A lot of people liked Cubbies. It was filled with professionals from the university, college students, and a plethora of other people.

Then his eyes found the neighbor from across the street. She was dressed to kill, wearing red-bottomed black heels that more than complimented her nice legs. She looked nothing like she had yesterday in jeans and flip-flops. Her long blond hair was pulled smoothly back. She was pretty. Seeing an empty seat next to her, he walked toward it.

When he reached her table, she stopped mid-chew and looked up at him, holding her sweet potato fry in the air. She blinked. “Hi.”

He plastered on a smile, already regretting this meeting. “Hi.”

“Uh.” She dropped her fry and went white. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I sit?” He gestured to the open seat at her table. “There aren’t any open tables.”

She hesitated.

“You said not to be a stranger the other day, right?” Why did he feel the need to explain himself?

“Uh …” She sucked in air. “No.” She looked befuddled. “Sorry. I mean, I would, but …”

He felt stupid for even asking. “Sorry.”

“Wait.” She pointed to the table right next to her that two people were just clearing out of. “Why don’t you sit there?”

Maybe this was a mistake. “It’s okay,” he said, turning away.

“I mean it,” she said, “I think it’s fine if you sit there.” She gave him a tentative smile and gestured to his lunch, which matched hers. “You obviously have great taste in food.”

Seeing the flustered way she was acting kind of made him smile. Sometimes people got intimidated around him.

Again, she pointed to the chair on the other side of the small aisle at the two-person table. “Sit.”

Unsure if he was doing the right thing, he put his tray down and sat. Situating the food, he glanced at her. She was no longer eating, just watching him.

He felt like he needed to explain. “I really appreciated the cookies the other day, and I didn’t even say thank you. I thought I could say thank you now.”

“You’re welcome.” She gave him a placid smile.

Awkward. He hadn’t really talked to anyone about his divorce and now it felt like he should. “The press has put it out there, but I haven’t told anybody directly about Stacy. Yesterday, when you came over, it was kind of a relief to know you know, and it was nice that you brought cookies. Good cookies.” He picked up his Coke and sucked down a mouthful.

She nodded. “Right. Sure. Yeah. I mean, why haven’t you told anybody?” Then she put her hand to her mouth like she could shove the words back in. “I shouldn’t have asked that. Tim says I ask too many questions.” She nibbled at her fry, avoiding his gaze.

Her husband’s face flashed through his mind, a memory of him typing in a garage code while holding his bike. “Right, Tim.” Now he did feel like a fool. He touched the edges of the tray. “Look, I should just go.” His words hung in the air, followed by sound of the chair scraping on the cement floor.

“No.” She shook her head and waved a fry at him. “It’s fine. We’re not sitting at the same table. Plus, I’m almost done.”

Staring into her sky blue eyes, he felt guilty. He shouldn’t notice how beautiful she was. Should he? She was married. Still, he stayed, taking a big bite of his sandwich to prove to himself it was fine.

Picking up her drink, she took a sip, and then the side of her mouth quirked up. “Now, I can see we have the same thing to eat, but what are you drinking?”

“Coke,” he said almost proudly.

She grinned. “That’s the best. Cubbies has the best of everything.”

“Right?”

“Plus, it goes with the fries.”

It was stupid, crazy, and completely unreasonable, but he’d just fallen in love again. “Exactly!”

They smiled at each other and then concentrated on their food. It was almost a relief to be sitting at the other table with a little distance between them.

“Sorry about asking to sit,” he said after a few minutes.

“No.” Her tone was sharp. “It’s fine. I was just being—”

“Weird?”

She smiled. “But you’re smart. Hey, as a husband who had a wife cheating on him …”

A pang of sadness washed through him.

Then her face fell. “I cannot believe I just said that. Sorry, shouldn’t have kept talking.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

Trying to be casual, he leaned back in his uncomfortable seat. “Thanks. I appreciate that. You know, I think I’m going to find the courage to go over and face my parents today.” He let out a laugh. “I feel like a little kid again who is about to confess a big secret to his parents.”

Her brow furrowed, and she tentatively took a small bite, half hiding behind her sandwich.

Why was he acting so weird? This was beginning to feel really awkward to him.

Hesitating, she held his eyes then watched as he stuffed a bite into his mouth.

“It’s delicious, right?”

He nodded.

She grinned. “I like to ask people questions right after they take a bite of food. It helps you judge who has manners.”

For a second, he thought she was a little crazy. Then he realized she was teasing him. He let out a light laugh and took a sip of his Coke. It was interesting to him that he’d never known this woman. He lived across the street from her, and he was only now realizing she was kinda funny. It was refreshing actually. To have a conversation with a woman who didn’t want something from him. Other then his mother, most women circled him at PR events like a vultures getting ready to swoop down on a dead carcass.

She took another bite, washing it down with pop and cleared her throat. “I had a business thing at the university today. I was kind of nervous, so I kept telling myself no matter how it ended, I would come here. Then it would still be a good day.”

It took him a bit off guard to realize he hadn’t thought about someone else’s life in a while. Even though he didn’t really know this woman, he found himself interested. “How did the meeting go?” he asked.

“Oh.” She let out a breath. “I blew it. But it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Her shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “They said I don’t have enough qualifications to be a teacher. Their loss, right?” She flashed a smile, but he could tell she was covering up a bit of disappointment.

“Yeah, their loss.” He studied her. “What did you want to teach?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. They asked me to come in and interview because I help companies manage their social media, and they want to help their students gain practical skills to help them make money.”

He frowned. “So why didn’t they hire you?”

She sighed. “They want me to have a doctorate.” She shrugged. “I’m good enough to make money, but not good enough to teach people.”

Letting out a soft snort, he shrugged. “The bureaucracy of it all.”

“Yeah.” A slow smile filled her face. “Hey, I’m good enough at my job to know they’re missing out.”

He laughed. That was refreshing. Stacy was so insecure. He used to have to work to build her up for hours on end. “Nice.”

“At least, that’s how I self-talk myself.”

“What is that?”

“Self-talk?” Her eyes widened. “You’ve never heard of talking to yourself in the way you need it? Some people give themselves affirmations; some people focus on gratitude. I do all of it.” She smiled. “I’m kind of a self-improvement junkie.”

“This is all Greek to me.”

“Oh. You should look up Cooper Harrison. Seriously, he’s a total self-help guru. I attended one of his seminars in Jackson, Wyoming last year.” She snapped her fingers. “That’s what you should do, especially on the heels of what you’re going through. Go to a seminar. Get some strategies and tools for dealing with the crap you’re going through. He’s good friends with Cameron Cruz. I’m surprised you don’t know who he is.”

Cameron Cruz. Irritation wove through him and he thought of the YouTube clip that had pretty much gone viral where Cameron and Hyde were laying into him.

Seeming to read his mind, she frowned too. “Sorry, I saw the clip.”

Rolling his eyes, he let out a breath. “Yeah, I’m not really in the good old boys club at the moment.”

Hesitating, she gave him a quick once-over then waved off the matter and began cleaning up her tray. “Sorry, I just love that stuff. Really. You should do a morning ritual of gratitude. It helps. A ton. The greatest wealth builders in the world do gratitude rituals. It would totally help your game. I know it would.”

“Like praying?” he asked, thinking of how he hadn’t prayed since he was a kid.

She shook her head. “Kind of. It can be. It’s extreme focus on the good in your life. It’s talking to God about everything you appreciate, or could appreciate, big or small.”

“Hmm, gratitude.” He didn’t think he had that much to be grateful for at the moment, but he didn’t say that.

She winked at him in encouragement. “You’ll get the hang of it. YouTube Cooper Harrison. I mean it. You can’t go wrong.”

“Okay.” Even as he agreed, he knew he wouldn’t.

“You don’t believe me.” She crossed her arms.

Disgust, mostly toward himself, soured his good mood. “In case you haven’t noticed, my life is kind of in shambles. I haven’t been able to catch a pass, and now my wife left me. Heard she cheated on me. Course she didn’t tell me that.”

“But you still have something to be grateful for.” Quietly, she insisted. “Or maybe you’re more selfish then I thought.”

That stung. He glared at her. He didn’t need her mumbo jumbo. He had enough coaches trying to tell him how to run his life at the moment. “Whatever.”

For a few moments, she didn’t say anything, and he focused on his sandwich. When he worked up the nerve to look at her again, she was frowning at him.

“What?” He felt like a kid whose mother was mad at him.

She shook her head. “Man, you’re spoiled. Look.” She wagged her finger at him. “I didn’t tell you about the nonprofit I work with—Integrate Colorado. I’m part of a team that helps refugees who have come to our city to settle and integrate into our culture.”

Having no idea what this had to do with him and his problems, he gave her a blank stare and took another bite of sandwich. “Okay, why is this important to me?” he asked through the food.

She looked ticked. “Right now, there’s a family who came from Somalia. They had to leave their country because terrorists took over their town, wrecking their home. Two of their children were killed by the Taliban.” Her eyes glistened with tears.

He paused then shrugged. “Look, I give a lot of money to charitable organizations, not to mention how much I pay in taxes.”

Scowling deeper, her lips pinched together. “This family has been in our country for two years, and there are programs that help them get an apartment, but most of these people can hardly pay the rent. Even with both the mother and father working, many end up not having heat. Not having beds to sleep on or furniture. The family I’m helping this week doesn’t have beds for their six children. And do you know what? When I went to talk to the parents, they said they were grateful. Grateful.” She said emphatically, her blue eyes widening passionately. “The kids take turns sleeping in the parents’ bed, and they are grateful to be safe.”

He didn’t know how to respond.

“They are grateful for the oranges and apples they get from the center every week. You would think we were giving them jewels by how happy they are with a simple apple in their hands. The middle son still consumes the apple too fast because he remembers not having food for long periods of time.”

He hadn’t known these families were in Denver. A bit of shame crawled up his throat.

“You sit here, having everything, anything you could possibly want to eat, and are you grateful?”

The question hung in the air. He didn’t know what to say. Most people didn’t talk to him like this. Probably only his mother to be honest.

“Sure, your supermodel wife cheated on you. Sure, you’re in a slump on the field. Sure, you could focus on all the bad. You could. But maybe if you were grateful, for all the little things in your life, those little things could grow to be bigger than all the bad things.”

He didn’t even know this woman’s name, and she was lecturing him about selfishness. Unbelievable. “O-kay.” Their eyes locked.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. Look ...” What was her name? “You don’t understand.”

Frowning, she took another sip. “You don’t know my name, do you?”

How did she decipher that from this conversation? “Whatever.”

With a bitter laugh, she shook her head. “This is unbelievable. Tim and I had you guys over for dinner. We’ve been neighbors for two years.”

“I know Tim. You’re …” He tried to recall it. “Kathy?” Breaking eye contact, he searched for another open table, but there weren’t any.

Glaring at him, she rolled her eyes. “No. Whatever, it’s fine.” She waved a hand in the air. “Obviously, you have yourself to focus on, right?”

It irritated him, the way she acted all superior. Who was she anyway? Nobody. He didn’t respond to her provoking though.

Suddenly, her mouth dropped open like she’d forgotten something. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry.” She rubbed her forehead and coughed. “I can’t believe I just said all that to you.”

It looked like she would bolt, but she didn’t move.

After he stuffed another bite of sandwich in his mouth, he stood. “Look, thanks for the cookies.” He gathered up his dirty napkins.

“Did you know about Stacy?”

The question took him by surprise. He paused. “Not until she handed me the divorce papers.” Now, his hand started to tremble, and he put his tray back down.

Regret crossed her face, and she closed her eyes.

“Did you know?” He watched as she winced, and his hands shook harder. “You did.”

She released a tortured breath. “I’m sorry. I sit in the front of the house and work. I saw some things. Cars. Men.”

His mouth felt dry. “You should have told me.” What kind of sideshow had that looked like from her vantage point? “Never mind,” he said, knocking his chair over as he pushed away from the table. The food felt like lead in the pit of his gut. “I have to go.”