“I don’t know what to do, Rach,” I say as I sip my coffee. “Jesse just ran off to go to football. I don’t know how Elijah got a hold of my address. I don’t know if he’s watching me. I don’t… I just don’t know what to do.”

“Calm down,” Rachael says. “Come on, just calm down. We’ll figure it out. Record everything—phone calls, this visit, texts—we might be able to get a restraining order against Elijah.”

My eyes fill with tears. That seems so extreme. “Imagine if I showed up to Christmas dinner on Jesse’s arm this year instead of Elijah’s, and I took out a restraining order. I would tear their family apart, Rachael,” I say, shaking my head. “I can’t do that.”

“Stop blaming yourself. Elijah is the one who cheated. He’s the one who ruined your relationship. He’s the one who’s stalking you, or whatever. He’s the one who punched Jesse, and he’s the one who is in the wrong. Not you.”

I take a deep breath, nodding.

A waitress drops a plate of eggs in front of me and I smile in thanks. I grab my fork and stab at the food, but I can’t eat. I’ve got no appetite.

Rachael notices. She tucks into her food and nods to me. “Eat.”

I sigh, scooping a forkful of scrambled eggs into my mouth and chewing. Food just doesn’t taste good when your whole body feels like a big ball of nerves.

I jump when my phone rings.

“Jesse?” I answer. Rachael’s eyebrows rise. She stops chewing, leaning forward over the table.

“Farrah,” he sounds breathless. “Where are you? Can you come to the Globe’s offices?”

“The newspaper?”

“Yes, yes. Look, we have a bit of a situation, but I think we can fix it.”

“A situation? What do you mean?”

Jesse sighs. I can hear some shuffling behind him, and then he starts talking again. “I didn’t want to explain everything over the phone, but Coach Williams got a call this morning from his contact at the newspaper. They told him they had a story about me, and you, and Elijah. They had pictures—and Farrah, none of it is true. Or it’s skewed. But I think we can make it right. Will you just come here, please?”

“Okay, okay, yes. I’ll come. I’m not too far, I should be there in 15 minutes.”

I hang up the phone and look at Rachael. “I gotta go.”

“You’re not leaving me here on my own after a phone call like that,” she grins. “I’m coming.” She shovels a bit more food in her mouth and then drops some money on the table.

I grin. “Thanks. Let’s go.” Mr. Moose is tied to his leash outside. I unhook him and head towards the Globe offices.

We make it to the offices in just over ten minutes. As soon as we walk in, Jesse comes forward at takes my hand. He glances at Rachael, and his eyebrows go up.

“Hey, Rach,” he says. He looks at my feet. “You brought the dog, too?”

“I was out,” I grin. “I came straight here.”

Jesse shrugs. “Alright.” He nods to the offices at the back of the room. “In here.”

I can see the whites of his eyes and I know he’s nervous. He squeezes my hand and whispers in my ear. “Thanks for coming.”

When we walk in to the office, my eyes widen. “I.. you!” I say. “Are you okay?”

The man behind the desk grins. He stands up and extends his hand. “Thomas Harding,” he says. “And yes, thanks to you, I’m great. I’m alive.”

I blush. He waves at us to sit down. Moose jumps onto my lap and I nod to Coach Williams. I’ve only seen him from afar, and he looks at me with sharp eyes. Now I understand why Jesse left right away when he called. I wouldn’t want to keep a man like that waiting, either.

My eyes swing back to Mr. Harding. I gulp.

“So… Jesse told me there were photos?”

Coach Williams hands me a stack of paper, and my cheeks redden when I see the photos. Jesse explains to me the story that Elijah told, and the anger blooms in my chest.

“What! None of that is true! You have to believe us!” I turn to Mr. Harding, and he nods.

“I do believe you. And I want to help you.”

I open my mouth and then close it again. I nod. “You do?”

“I do. I was kicking myself last night for leaving without learning your name. I called the restaurant this morning, but they wouldn’t tell me who you were. I guess an NFL player’s privacy is more important than a wrinkly old media mogul,” he grins.

“You’re not wrinkly,” I blurt out, and Mr. Harding laughs.

“Well, now that you’re here, I wanted to thank you properly. You saved my life yesterday, and I was able to walk home with my wife like any other night. I can make this go away.” He waves his hand at the photos. “But I want something from you.”

I frown. This doesn’t sound good. What could this man—who’s obviously rich, and powerful, and connected—what could he want from me?

I gulp, and nod. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“I want you to convince this man,” he points to Jesse, “to retire after this season, so he can take his Football School nation-wide.”

“What?” Both Jesse and I speak at the same time. Mr. Harding starts laughing.

He nods. “I heard about the project when I was down in New York. I checked out the facility yesterday, and I think it’s a fantastic idea. I meant to get in touch with you next week to offer you my support, and to propose a partnership.”

My eyes widen and I glance at Jesse. He looks at me, and then at Williams, and finally back at Harding.

“You’re asking me to retire?”

“I’m asking you to expand your company. I think we could build one of these in each major city in the United States. And with your face on them, they would take off. But I’d need your full commitment.”

“We don’t even know how the school will do this year,” Jesse says quietly. “It just opened.”

“It’s fully booked with a waiting list, no?”

Jesse nods. He glances at me again, and I slide my hand over his thigh.

“Think about it.” Harding nods. “I’ll make this story go away as a show of goodwill. I’ll be in touch in a few weeks.”

And with that, we walk out the door. We’re dazed. Even Coach Williams looks shocked, and Moose is quiet. Coach Williams shakes his head when we get outside.

“We’d weather the storm, if this story broke, Jesse,” he says. “I know you’ve been thinking about retiring, but no one should force you into it.”

“He’s not forcing me,” Jesse says. “He’s offering me an opportunity. And plus, if he could make this story go away, it would mean that Farrah’s name didn’t get dragged through the mud.”

My heart skips a beat. Jesse would give up the last years of his career for me? I shake my head.

“Don’t worry about me, Jesse. You need to weigh your options for the future without thinking about me.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “When are you going to understand that thinking about my future without thinking about you is impossible? You are my future, Farrah.”

My knees turn to jelly, and my heart melts in my chest. Jesse catches me in his arms and crushes his lips to mine.

In that moment, in that kiss, I finally understand that he truly loves me.