“Hey,” I greet Malone as she pulls up to our spot, out near the dock. She’d called me earlier in the day, asking if we could meet.

“Hey,” she answers as she gets out of her car, walking slowly to where I’m sitting on the tailgate of my truck.

Her body language is saying something is wrong; immediately I get a bad feeling in my gut. It’s one of those things where you know someone is about to tell you something you don’t want to hear. My eyes wash over her as she hoists herself up to sit beside me on the tailgate. There’s a heaviness to the air between us, that has nothing to do with the humid July night. There’s something big happening, and I have a feeling I’m the only one here who doesn’t know what that something is. “Do you have something you want to say to me?”

She’s quiet for longer than I like, but eventually in a small voice she says something. I can’t quite hear what it is. “What? Can you repeat that?”

“I got accepted to the University of Georgia.”

I blink once, twice, and then a third time until what she’s said fully sinks in. “What?”

“I got accepted to the University of Georgia, and that’s where I’ll be going to college,” she whispers, her voice shaky as she finishes the sentence.

My life, as I know it comes crashing down at my feet. “You’re not coming with me?”

“I can’t, Slade,” she grabs for my hand, but I pull away, hopping off the tailgate.

“Can’t or won’t?”

She hops off, following me, as I walk around in a circle. “It’s not that easy,” she cries as I turn to face her, walking back to where she stands.

I’m having a hard time reconciling what she’s saying right now, to what she’s been saying for the past year. I committed to them this time last summer, and the plan had always been for us to go together. The thought of going there without her, without having her support is too much for me, and I become a person I’ve never been before. I beg.

“Please come with me!” My voice is cracking as I plead with Malone to follow me to the University of Alabama. “Marry me, we’ll live in the married housing. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. I’ll play long enough for the pros to look at me, then I’ll enter the draft and take care of you, Mal.” I cup her cheeks in the palms of my hands. “I promise after college, you’ll never have to want for anything. I’ll make that happen for you.”

“You don’t know that, Slater. You can’t be sure you’ll even be drafted.” The tears she’s crying fall on my thumbs, gather under the skin there, and sink farther down her face.

“I know I’m gonna be drafted. I work hard, I follow the rules, and I have talent,” I argue with her.

“You have talent in small-town Georgia. Who’s to say you’ll have it at the college level?”

There’s a frosty air taking up residence in my chest and stomach. This woman I love, that I lost my virginity to, that I’ve had in my life for the past three years doesn’t believe in me. She doesn’t believe I have what it takes. “I love you,” I push those words out against my tight throat. “With that love, I believe you can do anything you put your mind to, Mal. To the ends of the earth I would support your dream. You’re not gonna support mine?”

“It’s not that simple,” she pulls away from me. “I have dreams too. I don’t want to go to Alabama,” tears are now freely streaming down her face.

“We talked about this! When I got the scholarship, we discussed it! You agreed,” I accuse her. “Now you’re going back on your word?”

“I’m sorry,” she puts her arms around her stomach, holding the sides of her shirt tightly with her hands.

“You’re sorry?” I feel the rage, the full-on body anger that helps me out on the playing field. “You’re fuckin’ sorry? How long?” My voice cracks, hoarse with the emotion I’m trying to hold within me.

She shakes her head, licking the tears off her lips. “No.”

“How long, Malone?”

“No,” she shakes her head again.

I advance on her, blocking her in with my hands against the truck, as I push her back into it. The scream comes from deep within my body. “Goddamn it, how long have you known you wouldn’t go with me? When did you accept your spot at Georgia? Those don’t just open the fuck up.”

Her voice is a whisper when she speaks again. “I got late admission, someone else dropped and I slipped into their spot. It was confirmed not long ago.”

Not long ago? How long is not long ago? Two weeks, two months? Betrayal tastes bitter as I think about the times we’ve had, even a few weeks ago. It’s not like I’ve been playing at this relationship with her. For me, this has been it, her and me, for life. But her? She’s told me she loved me, figured out living arrangements with me, made love to me, knowing she wasn’t going to stick around. “How can you even look at yourself in the mirror?”

“I wasn’t sure.” Her fingers unhook from her shirt, pushing her dark hair back behind her ears, before she runs her hand under her nose, gathering up the moisture.

My engagement ring, the one I put on her finger on prom night, catches my eye. The diamond is a spec of dirt, but I saved up for months to get it. Grabbing her hand in mine, I yank the ring off her finger. “You fuckin’ bitch. You said yes. You said yes when you knew there was no chance. Go to hell.”

“Slater this isn’t you.”

“It is me.” I crowd against her again. “This is who you turned me into, a damn savage who doesn’t know where his home is anymore. Because for three years that place has been you. Don’t call me, don’t try to get in touch with me. Starting today, sweetheart, you’re dead to me.”

That night, I packed up my truck, left for Tuscaloosa, and never looked back.