Page 51 of The Coach

Lauren rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. “Damn. Maybe you should’ve been a photographer instead of a teacher.”

I lower the camera, studying the screen. The shot is beautiful but simple. Nothing fancy, nothing dramatic. Just a stretch of land I’ve always known—except, for the first time, I’m leaving it behind.

And something about that hits me in a way I can’t explain.

Lauren nudges me, softer this time. “You okay? Just making sure you’re not spiraling.”

I tear my eyes away from the window. “I’m not spiraling. I’mrealizing.”

“Realizing what?”

“That I am not cut out for this.”

Lauren sighs, dramatically clicking off her phone and turning to face me fully. “Okay. Let’s recap.” She holds up a finger. “You’re pregnant.”

“Yes, Lauren, I am aware.”

“Two,” she continues, ignoring my sarcasm, “the father of your child is a ridiculously hot NFL coach?—”

“I appreciate you acknowledging that he’s hot. However, we don’tknowthat he’s the father,” I blurt out. “I mean, statistically, yes, obviously, but we?—”

Lauren’s eyes go wide. “Ivy.”

I sigh, slumping back in my seat. “Okay. Yes. It’s him.”

She nods triumphantly. “Three. The man ghosted you, yes. But what if he didn’t?”

I frown. “Lauren.”

“I’m serious. What if helost your number? What if something happened?”

I fold my arms. “If hewantedto find me, he could have. Riverbend istiny.”

Lauren doesn’t argue, but I see the way her lips press together, like she’s holding something back.

Instead, she glances out the window, squinting. “Damn. Corn fordays.”

"Yeah.” I flick through the shots I took on my camera. “It’s always like this in September. Harvest is coming soon.”

“And you’re still sure you could never live in the city?”

“Isn’t that getting a little ahead of this whole thing?”

“You’re right. Let’s stay focused on the task at hand. Did you…decide what you’re going to write on the sign?”

I roll my eyes playfully. “I know you’re joking. No way am I doing a sign.”

We ride in silence for a while, the train carrying us closer and closer to the place that might change everything.

The landscape starts to shift.

The cornfields thin out, replaced by more roads, more buildings, more industrial parks.

And then—the skyline appears.

It starts as a faint outline, barely visible through the haze. But with every mile, it grows bigger, bolder, more imposing.

Lauren nudges me, grinning. “Here we go. I love this part of the ride.”

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