Hello Quarterback (Hello #8)

54. Mia

54

MIA

For the last couple weeks, Ford had been busy with out-of-town Diamonds games, and I was busy with travel for work. But rumors were starting to swirl that we’d broken up, so it was time for another public appearance.

He would be attending the gala to celebrate the Andersen Avenue acquisition. There would be press there, along with Dallas’s elite social crowd, including Trent Reynolds.

In my career, I’d attended hundreds of events like this. But I was so nervous for tonight, I thought I could crawl out of my skin and under a rock like a hermit crab. Like a woman who was about to see her ex-not-so-fake boyfriend.

My stylist and hair and makeup artists made sure I looked fabulous, but I still felt uncomfortable, wondering what he would think of me. How we would act around each other after everything we’d been through.

When I couldn’t fidget any longer or ask for a new piece of jewelry or different pair of shoes, I went to the elevator to meet Ford in the parking garage.

My heart squeezed tighter at the bell ringing with each floor.

And when I got to the bottom, the fractured pieces of my heart scattered like raindrops at Ford Madigan’s feet.

Like all the times before, he stood at the back of the limo, legs crossed, resting on the car body. He had on a plum suit that perfectly complimented my lilac gown. And his smile, a mix of hesitation and warmth.

“You look... incredible,” he managed.

Another fractured drop of my heart hit the floor as I spun for him. A dance that no longer felt new and exciting but was a painful reminder of all we could have been together.

When I stalled, our eyes met, and I swore I saw moisture in his before he blinked it back and held the door open for me.

I slipped into the back of the limo, settling across from the door. Once he got in and closed the door behind him, we were alone in the car, only soft music breaking the silence.

“It’s good to see you,” he said eventually.

I looked away from the dark city passing by outside the tinted window. “Is it?” Because I was hurting, unsure how I’d make it through the night.

“It is, Mia. I...” He paused, scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “I hate this.”

That caught my attention. I took him in, wondering what was coming next. Torn between hoping he’d call off the charade so I could finally lick my wounds and fearing the same end, meaning I’d never get to see or spend time with him again.

Realizing I was waiting for him to explain, he crossed the limo and sat beside me, taking my hands in his. I had to close my eyes against the pain searing through my chest. I missed him, his touch, so much I dreamed about it.

Everything in my life was going right. But I’d never been more miserable.

“I miss you,” he said. Another stab of pain. Because I missed him too.

I missed our goodnight texts. I missed the way he held me. How he made me feel like my success wasn’t intimidating but something to be admired.

“Do you miss me?” he finally asked.

My throat felt tight as I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak without falling apart.

His features seemed to lift with hope. “I know I messed up, Mia, but I do love you. Can I have another chance? I’ll do anything.”

I glanced down at my hands resting in my lap. There were three rings on my left hand. One on my right. Thousands of dollars on just my fingers. But I would trade all of it to go back to that day and beg Ford to behave differently. I took a slow, steadying breath. “Ford, I love you. With all my heart.” My voice broke, and tears threatened to fall. “But it isn’t as simple as a grand gesture and another chance. You showed me that when your back is against the wall, you’ll push me out of your life and avoid me.”

His gaze lowered. He clearly felt ashamed, and part of me wanted to rescue him from that feeling. But the wiser part of me knew better.

“The only way we could ever have another chance is if you showed me, somehow, that you had truly changed. That you’d grown to a point where you wouldn’t hurt me and push me away when things get hard. Because I wasn’t just with you to be with a famous quarterback—I love you . All of your fame could be gone tomorrow, and I’d still be here.”

His lips quivered as he looked up at me, eyes red from unshed tears. “I’m?—”

The limo slowed and stopped. Within seconds there was a knock on the door before Zeke opened it up. We both cleared our expressions, put on brave faces, as we stepped out of the limo. Appearing as the perfect couple I thought we were.

Cameras flashed around the red carpet into the hotel ballroom, and Ford kept ahold of my hand until we got to the photo staging area. A press backdrop was behind us, alternating the Griffen Industries and Andersen Avenue logos.

We posed together for photos. And for a moment, he pressed his lips to my temple and whispered, “I’ll do whatever it takes. I promise.”