Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
We score the next seven points with little effort. Darrin and Jill manage to put two points on the board, but they never stood a chance.
While I generally enjoy a more competitive game, after last night, it’s fun to relax a little. My friends cheering us on, the warm sun on our faces, and the spirit of the Sugar Days Festival buzzing around us—it’s exactly what my soul needed. And with Jory beside me, I couldn’t ask for anything more.
“We need one more,” Jory says. “You ready?”
“Yup.” I grin, leaning closer. “Darrin is creeping toward the center line. That sideline is wide open.”
“You got it, boss.”
Jill drops the ball and fires a serve my way. It’s shallow, like ninety percent of her serves today. I handle it easily, dropping a lob over the net. Don’t crowd the kitchen, Jill. Darrin poaches it, almost knocking her over, and sends it ripping toward Jory.
He drives it down the sideline, but Darrin somehow gets ahold of it, and the pace changes instantly.
I adjust. But, when I plant my foot to pivot, my sneaker lands in a puddle of water.
I gasp, realizing what’s happening way faster than I can stop it.
Panic bolts through my veins as I try to stay on my feet, but my foot slides. Knee twists. Ankle pops.
And then I’m falling, the court rushing toward me.
I hit the asphalt hard.
“Ah,” I yell, dropping my paddle to the sound of the audience gasping. Fire shoots through my calf and foot just as Jory reaches me.
“Hey,” he says, kneeling beside me. “What happened?”
“Water. I think.” I moan, wanting to hold my ankle but also not wanting to touch it. “Oh, my gosh, this hurts.”
Tears fill my eyes—red hot. They burn my cheeks as they drip onto them.
“Let me look,” Jory says gently.
“Please, don’t touch it.”
I tremble from the pain, looking at the sky and wishing I could redo the last two minutes.
“Babe, it’s really swollen,” Jory says, just as Mira reaches my side. “I think we need to get you to a doctor.”
“Markie, are you okay?” she asks, squatting next to me. “Oh, that doesn’t look good.”
“It hurts so bad—ugh,” I say, hissing a breath. “I can’t walk on it. There’s no way.”
Mira and Jory say something, but I can’t hear them over the roar of blood across my eardrums.
“I’ll talk to George,” Mira says.
I blink back tears as I peer up at Jory. “All of that driving last night for nothing.”
“For nothing?” He shakes his head softly. “It was never about this tournament for me, Markie. It was just about showing up for you.”
He kisses my forehead as a medic arrives to look at my foot.
I groan as the woman tries to move it.
“I know this sucks for you,” Jory says. “I know how important it was to win and to beat Jasper.”
The crowd’s on their feet, watching the EMT check me out. And as I look at them—recognizing friends, old opponents, and Alfie and Mr. Crowder—I realize something else.
It was really never about this tournament for me either.
This tournament was a way for me to cling to a time in my life that was special to me. The last time in my life when I felt fulfilled. It represented a way of life that I missed, a nostalgia for a life I didn’t think I’d have again.
The Jasper part? That was petty. We all have our moments.
The only thing that matters is the man holding my hand, ensuring the EMT doesn’t hurt me, and keeping everyone away from me so I don’t get overwhelmed. The man who drove sixteen hours to take care of his son and me in the same night. The man who defended me when he didn’t have to, who kept his promises when it didn’t seem possible, and whose actions have made me feel loved beyond comprehension.
“Gonna need you to stop crying,” he says, smiling sadly.
“These are happy tears.”
He grimaces. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I don’t need to win this tournament, Jory. And I don’t give a shit about Jasper.”
“Really?”
I stare into his eyes. “I was just biding my time, I think. Keeping busy until you showed up. I mean, it would explain why I never got a full-time, year-round job. And why I could never figure out what path I was supposed to take in life.” I shrug. “I was waiting on you and Gus.”
“He’ll be very glad to hear that.” He laughs, his eyes clouding. “And I’ll show you once we’re alone how happy that makes me.”
“I love you, Jory.”
“Oh, babe. Not nearly as much as I love you.”
His lips find my forehead as the EMT suggests taking me to the hospital for an X-ray. Jory assures her that he’ll drive me there himself.
He lifts me in his arms to applause from the crowd. I find my friends in the stands. Brooks holds his hands out as if to say, “I told you I was the best choice.” It makes me laugh despite the pain in my foot.