Page 93 of Hello Quarterback

She giggled as she brushed back my hair. “Don't tell Gage that.”

I stepped away from her, taking some deep breaths and wiping at my eyes. “I’ve been through heartbreak before, but I don’t want to do it again.” My heart felt so heavy in my chest, knowing what was to come. Sleepless nights. Checking my phone to see if he’d messaged me, only to find nothing new. Watching him at games and knowing I would never have him again. Not in the way I wanted.

Farrah said, “I know. It’s going to be hard, but we’ll get through this together.” She squeezed my hand. “I have frosting and wine on the coffee table, and there's ice cream in the freezer. What would you like?”

“All of it,” I said.

“You start a movie,” she said. “Your pick.”

“Something gory,” I replied. Something to show some of the emotional bloodshed I felt inside.

She chuckled at my half-hearted joke. “Is there anything else?”

I smiled, for half a second, grateful that even if I'd lost Ford, I still had my best friend. I made myself a promise never to lie to her again—she deserved nothing less than my full honesty.

For the next couple hours, we watched a movie I can hardly remember and ate far too much sugar. I didn't check my phone until she stepped into the other room to tell her kids goodnight. And when I did, I saw new messages from Ford on the screen.

Ford: I really am sorry. Please forgive me.

Ford: I do love you.

Ford: I know you deserve better.

I replied with two words.

Mia: I do.

But just because you forgive someone, and just because you love someone, doesn’t mean they still need to have access to hurt you again.

I wokeup with my alarm the next morning, both Farrah and I lying in my massive bed.

“Ughhh,” she groaned. “It’s so early.”

I silenced my alarm and said, “Stay and sleep in. You deserve it.”

She mumbled a thanks, and within seconds, she was softly snoring again.

If my chest didn’t ache and my eyes didn’t sting from so many tears, I might have chuckled. Instead, I got up from the bed and went to my dresser, putting on my yoga clothes. Then I went downstairs, where my driver was already waiting to take me to my private hot yoga class.

An hour later, exhausted and sweating like a glass of lemonade in summertime, I came back to my condo. Farrah was still sleeping as I got ready for the day.

I knew I should have been on top of the world; officially acquiring Andersen Avenue was a major accomplishment. There would be press conferences throughout the week and dozens of interviews to talk about the acquisition. But I couldn’t get awayfrom the sinking feeling in my heart like it might not be enough. Like I wanted more out of my life than only business.

When I arrived at my office, Vanover was waiting with a cup of coffee. I took it from him and stopped in my tracks. There was a fresh flower delivery at my desk.

“Have these removed,” I told Vanover.

He studied me for a moment, hesitating, then smoothed his dark wavy hair. “Well, the thing is...” Then he picked an invisible piece of lint from his lapel.

“What?” I asked.

“I would love to, Mia, but it would signal something to the rest of the company. You've had these flowers in here since you and Ford got together. And if it gets out, then he’ll be?—”

I let out a sigh. “Fine, but order me another bouquet to go with it. Something green.”

“I will,” he said. He studied me for a moment, seeing far too much, and before he could make any astute observations, I asserted, “I'm fine.”

He raised his eyebrows.

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