Jake tapped his good foot impatiently, staring at the pale Boston skyline just outside the windows. They were back in the city, and it was snowing again, but romance was the last thing on his mind. He’d spent the morning getting fresh scans on his knee, and now they were just waiting on the results: sitting out in the quiet waiting room, ignoring the magazines on the table as every hour stretched into an eternity.

The wait was killing him. He’d been here before, too many times. Waiting on tests, and news, and the latest doctor’s report. He’d thought he was finally past it, but here he was, all over again.

Mackenzie’s hand came down gently on his thigh. “It won’t be much longer,” she said, giving him an encouraging smile.

Jake didn’t reply. He’d been so wrapped up in his own thoughts, he’d almost forgotten she was there. He gave her a guilty nod instead. “You want a coffee or something?” he asked, getting up. “They have a cafeteria downstairs—”

“I can go.” Mackenzie bobbed up. “You stay here. Sit.”

“I can walk, you know,” Jake told her, trying not to get annoyed. He could catch her anxious glances out of the corner of his eye, checking if he needed help.

That wasn’t how he wanted her to look at him.

“I know.” Mackenzie’s reply was steady. “But I don’t want you to miss the doctor when they’re ready with your scans.”

“Oh. OK.” Jake sat again and watched Mackenzie head down the hallway. She exchanged a few words and smiles with a nurse by the elevator, then disappeared out of sight.

He was being an ass. He knew that, but somehow, he couldn’t stop his fears and insecurities boiling over in her direction, which only made him feel guilty, as well as scared. He’d thought it would be easier with Mackenzie there by his side, but now, he just wondered what she was thinking, having to spend her day playing babysitter to an ungrateful ass like him. He hated that she’d seen him fall apart like that last night, and although he’d found something close to solace in her arms, now he was staring down his future again, and he knew the outlook wasn’t good.

“Jake, there you are.” Padma joined him with a file under her arm, just as Mackenzie reappeared. He introduced them, and then Padma said, “Why don’t you come into my office?”

Jake started to follow her before he realized Mackenzie was waiting behind. He stopped, and held out his hand to her.

Are you sure? her expression seemed to ask.

He nodded, and Mackenzie quickly fell into step beside him, her hand tucked snugly in his own. Jake couldn’t explain it, but he still felt that pull to have her near, even in the worst of times.

Inside Padma’s office, they sat, and Jake braced himself.

“I’ve taken a look at the scans,” she began. “You took a nasty shock to the tendons. What were you doing?”

Jake guiltily cleared his throat. “Just tossing the ball around,” he said, and Padma fixed him with a look.

“Well, I’m afraid there’ll be no more of that. Not unless you want to do more permanent damage.”

He felt Mackenzie gasp at the words, but he couldn’t feel a thing. He watched, as if from far away, as Padma kept talking them through the end of his career.

“We were able to visualize the injury clearly, here and here.” She pointed to the scans. “The tendons were torn away from the cartilage again. You were very lucky not to sever them completely. You won’t need surgery, but I’m afraid it’s put the recovery back another five, ten months maybe. I’d imagine you’re in a fair amount of pain just walking, so it’s going to be a long road back. You know the drill,” she added. “Rehab, healing, and no stress on that knee of any kind.”

Mackenzie leaned forward, looking stricken. “So he can’t play?”

“No,” Padma said firmly. “No more high-stress activity of any kind. You were lucky this time, but that’s all it was: sheer luck. The connective tissue hardly ever survives a tear the first time around, let alone second. There won’t be a third. Next time you push it, the reconstructive surgery might not even work again.” She took a breath and softened. “I know this must be difficult, Jake, but it’s like I’ve been telling you: your body can only take so much. If this had happened on the field, during a real game . . . you wouldn’t have been walking into my office today, I can tell you that.”

“So I should be grateful?” Jake’s reply came, angry, before he could check himself.

Padma didn’t flinch. “Yes. You should be.” She stared back, empathetic but firm. “Grateful that you even have an option for recovery. I’ve seen guys in your place just starting out, twenty-two, twenty-three, they’ll never step foot on a football field again in their lives. You at least had a long career behind you.”

“And that’s supposed to be a consolation?” He couldn’t believe this.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you, Jake, because I know this is the last thing you want to hear. But you need to hear it.” Padma’s voice remained steady, even as she spoke his death sentence. “This is the only strike you get. Next time you ignore your doctors, it won’t be such an optimistic result.”

Optimistic.

Jake stared at her numbly. This was the end of his whole career, and she was talking like he should be relieved.

His blood roared in his ears, and he had to grip the arms of his chair to keep steady.

“What about if I follow your rehab instructions to the letter this time?” he started, feeling a desperate panic in his chest. “I go slow and take things step by step, the way you want. Maybe in six months, or a year, I could try playing—”

“I’m sorry, Jake.” Padma cut him off. She shook her head sadly, and to his horror, he saw pity in her eyes. “This shows us exactly what will happen if you try again. Your football career is over now, and your focus needs to be on a steady recovery now. Slow and managed. With time, and work, you’ll be able to get a full range of motion, and live your regular life. But there’s no chance of playing at a professional level. I’m afraid that’s out of the question now.”

He sank back in the chair, the words swimming in his mind. He barely noticed as Padma wrapped things up and gave him his new rehab schedule. She chatted with Mackenzie, showing them to the door, and then he was back in the hallway again, except this time, everything was different.

It was over now.

No distant chances, no planning, no determination to prove them all wrong and heal better than ever. The doctor had been clear, there was no way back this time.

No hope left for him at all.

They were out on the street again before Mackenzie finally spoke. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now.”

Traffic hurtled past, the street wet with melting snow, but Jake didn’t register a thing.

Your football career is over now.

“What do you want to do now?” Mackenzie continued. “We could drive straight back, or go somewhere . . . Talk . . . Whatever you need.”

What he needed was to turn the clock back a year and sidestep that Falcons linebacker. Skip the play, or make the pass a fraction of a second sooner. What-ifs spun suddenly in his mind, and he felt every last one like a punch to the gut. But there was no going back now. No changing one damn thing. That chapter of his life was over, maybe it had been all along, and he was only just realizing it now: the last fool in the room.

“Jake?” Mackenzie’s voice came again. She was still standing there on the sidewalk, looking at him with the same expression Padma had inside.

Pity.

He recoiled from it, hating the worry in her eyes. “I need to take a walk,” he said abruptly. “I need . . . to think.”

“Of course,” Mackenzie said quickly. “We can meet back later, just call me when you’re ready to go home.”

Home.

The word echoed with him as he turned down the street alone. Sweetbriar hadn’t been his home in a decade. He still had an apartment in Miami, filled with all his stuff. A doorman holding packages, a phone full of buddies and dates.

Buddies he hadn’t heard from in months now.

Dates who wanted the thrill of walking in on the arm of a pro player, not some washed up invalid who’d never score another touchdown again.

He tried his best not to give in to the bitterness. Maybe the doctor was right, and he was lucky, but it didn’t feel like good fortune to be limping down the street with the dull echo of pain jolting every step. But it wasn’t the pain that mattered, he’d endured worse. No, the part that cut him open was knowing his days on the field were over for good.

Jake walked in a numb daze. It didn’t feel real. He’d been in denial for so long, ignoring all the words of caution, but now it was hitting him all at once. He was done. Game over. This past year had been bad enough, feeling sidelined and far away from his team, but now he would never get to go back.

Where did he belong now?

The dull pain rang out sharper, and he looked around for a bench. He would have appreciated the irony if it didn’t cut him so damn deep. He’d pushed his body to the limit for too long, and now it was pushing back.

He looked around. He’d been here before, after his last appointment. Jake looked around, recognizing the curve of the bridge and the icy river-walk. It felt so long ago, but it had only been a month or so—before his own foolish mistakes had wrecked any chance at recovery for good.

Before Mackenzie.

Jake shook away the memory of her concern, the care in those wide eyes. He couldn’t think about her now, not with anger and frustration boiling harshly and the sick lurch of defeat like an iron in his chest.

God, he’d been so naïve, planning his return to form, like all it would take was a few extra miles on his run and some time to knit those tendons back together again. He wanted to run, hard, pounding the asphalt along the icy river until his lungs screamed for air, but he knew he would fall down in agony before he’d even taken ten steps.

What was left now?

Jake had been avoiding the question ever since that first, brutal hit. But there was no avoiding it anymore. The future lay in front of him, as cold as the icy river, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t know where to turn. He missed his friends, his teammates, and that sense of belonging that came every practice and game day, no matter what. When he stepped out on that field, he’d always felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He’d never felt anything even close to that, nothing except . . .

Her.

Jake remembered Mackenzie’s embrace last night, holding him so tightly and promising that everything would be OK. For a few hours, at least, he’d believed her.

But how long would that patience last? How long until she realized he had nothing to offer her now, not even the promise of a future back on top?

He couldn’t let that pity linger in her eyes; it would kill him, if the failure didn’t first. She deserved so much more from him. He needed a game plan, and he needed one fast.

Jake got out his phone and dialed.

---

Mackenzie tried not to watch her phone, but she couldn’t focus on anything else. She browsed some stores downtown, trying to distract herself, but in the end, she gave up on trying to wait Jake out. She needed help, and when she found herself a couple of blocks from Eliza’s newspaper office, she took it as a sign. She bought coffees from the cart in the lobby and then called up.

“I’m downstairs,” she said, paying the vendor. “And I have caffeine.”

“Come on up!”

She took the elevator up to Eliza’s floor, and then navigated her way through a rabbit warren of cubicles to a dim spot in the corner, where her friend was squinting at a computer screen. “Sorry to just show up like this,” she said, setting the coffees down. Eliza leaned up from her computer and gave her a quick hug.

“Are you kidding? You’re always a welcome distraction. Just let me finish this email . . .”

Mackenzie looked around as Eliza typed. She’d always thought newsrooms were bustling, busy places, but this one was half-empty, with a grim, quiet air.

“OK, done!” Eliza spun her chair to face her and grabbed one of the coffees. She gulped happily. “God, I needed this. I have five million more things to do before lunch.”

“What’s with all the sad faces?” Mackenzie asked. “Did someone die?”

“Just the independent press,” Eliza sighed. “They announced a takeover yesterday. We got bought out by some trust fund kid who wants to play media mogul. Now everyone’s braced for layoffs.”

“Ouch, I’m sorry.”

Eliza shrugged. “What are you going to do? I’ve been polishing my resume, and sending ‘remember me?’ emails to every editor around. Finger’s crossed I don’t wind up unemployed and living back at my mother’s. Again.”

“Hey, if the worst happens, you can always come crash on my couch.”

“Don’t tease,” Eliza warned with a grin. “I might very well have to take you up on that. Except, three’s a crowd. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your 24/7 sexy party.”

Mackenzie sighed.

“Uh oh.” Eliza’s eyes widened. “That can’t be good.”

Mackenzie bit her lip. “I just came from the hospital, with Jake. He injured his knee again, it’s bad. The doctor says he won’t play again.”

“Oh no,” Eliza said, sympathetic. “How’s he taking it?”

“How do you think?” Mackenzie gave her a rueful look. “I just feel so useless. I know this is a lot for him to handle, and there’s nothing I can say.”

“Just be there for him, I’m sure that’s all he wants.”

“I don’t know if he even wants me around for that,” Mackenzie said, remembering how fast Jake had bolted after the hospital. “Maybe he just needs some time . . . but I can already feel like he’s pulling away from me.”

“Men.” Eliza tsked. “Nothing like a little emotion to make them shut down completely.”

“Hey, Jake isn’t like that,” Mackenzie protested.

“No, you’re right.” Eliza smiled. “That’s just the Neanderthals I’ve been dating. I’m sure Jake will figure it out.”

Mackenzie nodded, hoping she was right. “He’s probably just in shock right now. With a little time, he’ll figure it out.”

“Sure he will,” Eliza said brightly. “And anyways, it’s the holidays soon. That will help distract him, all the fun Starbright events.”

“Maybe.” Mackenzie perked up a little. “And if all else fails, we can just get him drunk on Franny’s spiced apple cider.”

“Is it lethal?” Eliza asked.

“That’s right,” Mackenzie realized. “This is going to be your first Sweetbriar Christmas. How is that possible?”

“We only ever spent the summers there,” Eliza shrugged. “And you know I run away from town spirit.”

“You say that now, but we’ll get you in the end,” Mackenzie teased. “There’s a spot on the town beautification committee with your name on it.”

“Never!” Eliza joked, but her smile wavered. “To tell the truth, I’m kind of dreading it. The holidays,” she explained. “It’s the first one since my dad passed.”

Mackenzie inhaled. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think.” Eliza’s father had passed away back in spring, before they’d even met. She didn’t talk about it much, but of course, with the holiday coming, it would bring her loss into focus again.

Eliza gave her a rueful look. “It’s OK. Maybe it’s a good thing, having all this Starbright stuff to distract me. I’ll see if my mom and Paige want to come, too. Start a new tradition.” She shook her head, as if putting the thought aside. “Anyway, this is about you and Jake. How long has he been off wandering?”

Mackenzie couldn’t help checking her phone again. “A couple of hours now,” she answered. “I should call him,” she said, feeling uneasy. “I know he wanted space, but I should at least check in and see what his plans are.”

“Good luck.” Eliza gave her a sympathetic smile. “I should get back to work—while I still have a job.”

Mackenzie gave her a hug goodbye and headed back to the lobby. She dialed Jake with trepidation, and was relieved when he answered on the second ring. “Hi,” she said cautiously, “how are you doing?”

“Great!” Jake’s answer was muffled by a sudden burst of music and conversation. “You should . . . Downtown . . . For six.”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you.” Mackenzie covered her ear to try and make out what he was saying.

“I’ll text you,” Jake said, still hard to hear. “Come over and meet everyone!”

He hung up, and Mackenzie slowly lowered the phone. He sounded upbeat, which was something, at least. Her phone vibrated, and then there was a text with a single word.

Deluxe.

Mackenzie quickly searched for it online. It was a restaurant over near Boylston, too far to walk, so she hailed a cab outside and drove over. It was a trendy spot on a street full of expensive boutiques, and as soon as she stepped inside, a hostess moved to block her path

“Yes?” The woman looked her up and down. “Do you have a reservation?”

“I’m meeting someone.” Mackenzie tried not to feel out of place. She’d dressed for comfort that day, in jeans and a sweater, but every other diner looked like they were out for a fancy meal. “Jake Sullivan? He should be . . .” She caught sight of him across the room, in a booth with a group of people. “Oh, he’s right there.” She pointed, and the hostess gave her a skeptical look.

“I’ll go check.”

Her voice was dripping with skepticism. Mackenzie blinked. “Really, I’m not some stalker fan.”

“Wait here.”

Mackenzie sighed, impatiently watching as the woman crossed the room and leaned in to speak to Jake. He looked around, and saw her, then leapt up, waving her over.

Mackenzie gave the hostess a triumphant smile and went to meet him. “Hey! What is this place? I thought they were going to frisk me at the door.”

“Isn’t it great?” Jake replied with a wide grin, before turning to the booth. “Mackenzie, this is JD, and Mickey, and Bob and Rich.”

“Umm, hi.” Mackenzie gave an awkward wave. Two of the guys were built like Jake—broad-shouldered and clearly athletes—while the other two were dressed in casual designer suits, with expensive haircuts and watches to match. They were spilling out of the booth, the table covered in plates of food.

“Great to meet you.” One of the men—Bob, maybe?—enthusiastically shook her hand. “Here, you can squeeze in next to me.”

Mackenzie looked to Jake, confused by this 180-degree change in mood, but he was ordering champagne from the server. “Are we celebrating?” she asked. She wasn’t sure what to make of his broad smiles and laughter, not after the bad news this morning.

“We sure are,” Bob grinned. “Our boy Jake here has finally decided to come on board and join us on the sidelines. You’re looking at the newest member of the ESPN sportscasting team.”

“Straight to the West Coast, baby!” one of the other athletes whooped. “All the way to the top.”