Page 141 of The Defender
After two weeks of frantic prepping and packing, it was here—the day I left London and moved to Chicago.
Things had moved quickly after I accepted the Moores’ offer. They’d set me up at a fully furnished apartment near their house,and they’d hired someone to help me pack up my flat in London. I was only bringing my clothes and other personal items to Chicago; my furniture and other nonessential belongings were in storage.
My three suitcases and carry-on surrounded us as Scarlett, Carina, and I lingered near the check-in kiosks. My dad had a match today, so we’d said goodbye that morning. He’d wanted to leave the match in Greely’s hands and accompany me to the airport, but I’d insisted he be with his players instead. The match was too important, and the fact he’d offered meant more than his actual presence.
I was okay with our goodbye, but my girls? I needed as much time with them as possible.
“We promise we’ll keep you updated on all the hot goss while you’re gone,” Carina said. “It’ll be like you never left.”
“I appreciate that. I do love some good gossip.”
“I know. And if you need a care package with some proper tea and biscuits, we got you. Keep an eye on your mailbox.”
I smiled even as melancholy curled through me.
We were stalling. None of us wanted to be the one to say goodbye first.
My friends had been stunned when I told them about my move, but neither had guilt tripped me into staying. They understood why I made the decision I did, and they were as happy for me as they were heartbroken.
The sentiment was mutual.
I’d never had girlfriends like them. I’d only known Scarlett and Carina for a year and a half, but they’d been more supportive and caring than any of my old friends. They were genuinely excited when I had good news, genuinely sad when I didn’t, and they never judged or secretly tried to compete with me. Besides Vincent, they were the only people I felt truly comfortable with.
They also knew me well enough to guess what was on my mind at the moment.
“He’ll be here,” Scarlett said softly. “He wouldn’t miss seeing you off if Satan himself tried to stop him.”
“It’s okay if he’s not. I don’t expect him to be.” I smiled through the ache in my chest. “We said goodbye this morning.”
Vincent was playing in today’s match. He’d also wanted to call in sick and take me to the airport, but I refused to hear it. Blackcastle had a knockout match today, which meant they needed to win in order to advance in the tournament. I wasn’t going to hamper their chances by taking their captain and best defender off the pitch.
“Oh, honey.” Carina squeezed my arm, her eyes soft.
But eventually, we couldn’t stall anymore. My flight was boarding soon, so I checked my bags, hugged my friends one last time, and made it through security and to my gate with ten minutes to spare.
Instead of milling around and waiting, I ducked into the shop across from my gate. I couldn’t stay still for too long. If I did, my doubts would creep in again, and I’d run out of the airport and back to my flat because that was the easy thing to do.
I had to make it to Chicago first. Then I could sit on the floor and let the significance of what I was doing fully hit me.
But my plans for delaying my eventual breakdown shattered when I passed by the newsstand. Vincent smiled at me from the cover ofSports UKmagazine, his dimple just visible enough to unravel me. His image was so sharp and clear, I felt like I could reach out and feel his warmth beneath my fingertips.
I tried to stop it, but it was impossible. A tide of emotion crashed over me, blurring my vision. A hot tear slipped down my cheek. I wiped it away, but another fell, and another, and soon, they came in waves too thick and fast for me to control.
My ribcage felt too tight for my lungs. I’d talked to Vincent just that morning, and I already missed him like it’d been years.
I had a plan, but what if it failed? What if I had to stay in Chicago forever? We’d promised each other we would make it work long distance, but I’d seen the statistics. Long-distance relationships lasted an average of only four and a half months, and my plan was a Hail Mary anyway.
“I know I look good, but I think that’s the first time one of my pictures has brought someone to tears in public.”
Great. Now I was hearing his voice in a freaking airport shop.
I hiccupped. So much for waiting until Chicago before my breakdown.
A hand brushed my shoulder, warm and so veryreal. “Brooklyn.” His voice was tender. “Turn around.”
My heart leapt in my throat. I whirled around, my pulse pounding when I saw the achingly familiar outline of Vincent’s form. I blinked hard, both to clear the tears and to double-check I wasn’t hallucinating.
No, that was really him, standing in the shop’s narrow aisle dressed in his football kit. He was sweaty and his clothes had grass stains, but I’d never seen a more beautiful sight.
