Eight games. Eight wins.
I’d earned my perfect season and I expected to be relieved and overcome with joy. Not that I wasn’t joyful, in fact, I was elated. On some level, it felt less than perfect—incomplete. Before kickoff, I looked up into the stands expecting to see Hannah in her usual spot. My heart fell when my eyes met a face that I didn’t recognize.
When I rushed off the field, I did catch a glimpse of her standing with the cheerleaders talking to Addie.
Instead of celebrating with the coaching staff and community, I found myself standing in my kitchen pouring a glass of bourbon.
“That was an incredible game,” my brother, Chase, said from the living room. He’d driven up earlier that afternoon to cheer on the team.
I could hear the television playing the highlight reel and commenting about our perfect season. The Westmore Lions were predicted to be state champions.
“State champions, man,” he called out. “Every channel is saying that you’re going to win it all. They’re predicting that you’ll be awarded Coach of the Year.”
“That would be something,” I commented before taking a drink.
Chase joined me in the kitchen. “Okay, what has got you in this mood?”
I shrugged. “What’s with your mood?”
He laughed leaning forward to study my face. “Your eye is twitching. Do you need to eat a banana?”
A bitter laugh rumbled in my chest. “Doubtful.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s a woman,” I declared flatly.
His brows shot up. “You met someone?”
“Hannah, yeah, she lost her husband and one son in a tragedy. We talked, and the two of us clicked like puzzle pieces that snapped into place without too much thought.”
“So this Hannah, she’s the real deal, huh? And you’re not just two broken souls bonding over your grief?”
I nodded, pressing a palm to my eye. “No, not at all and that’s what’s got me twitchy.”
“Are we going to a good place or bad place?” he asked pointedly.
“When she ended it, she said we were just a fling, which I can assure you is not how I felt in the least.”
He shoved a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “Ouch, I’m sorry.”
Staring into the glass, I let out a deep sigh. “She’s the mother of one of my players and she’s incredible. I don’t know, I can’t explain the connection. If I’m being completely honest, I really don’t think that she wanted to end things. There were some complications.”
“Like what kinds of complications?” he asked, before taking a long pull from his beer.
“Well, for starters, the whole part about her being the mother of one of my students is a complication. There’s a morals clause in my contract, but it doesn’t directly imply that I can’t have a relationship with a parent—shades of grey.”
“Shades of grey,” he repeated.
“Yeah, like it’s frowned upon, but not expressly written in the contract.”
“And that didn’t stop you, huh?”
I side-eyed him. “No, it didn’t stop me.”
“Do you love her?”
“We didn’t get that far,” I swallowed down a sip of bourbon. “Yeah, I might.”
His eyes popped wide. “Well, that’s something.”
“Yeah, and I like her kid too—Luke. He’s smart, he’s got a quick wit and he proved himself to be a damn fine player this year.”
Chase turned to face me. “So what exactly is the problem?”
I explained the whole rumors thing and Luke being teased in the locker room. “You think I’m stupid, right?”
He smiled, “Nah, definitely not. She loves her kid. She might love you, but she had to make a choice. When it came down to it, it was her kid or you.”
“Yeah, genius, she pretty much told me that.”
“Hmm, well, here’s the way I see it, if you think you might love this woman, why don’t you look for another job? You and I both know that you don’t need the money.”
“Maybe loving someone doesn’t mean I quit my job,” I asserted. “No, no, I don’t need the money, but I do love being a teacher and a coach. I built this program from bare bones to a perfect season in two years. I don’t want to abandon these kids.”
Chase slapped my shoulder. “Then you are pretty much what I call—fucked.”
I am fucked.