The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

“What is wrong with you?” I cry in outrage. “Why do you want to waste away here? You’re twenty-five, Robbie. You need to grow up.”

He rolls his eyes. “If you flew all the way back here to be a bitch, you needn’t have bothered.”

Steam shoots from my ears. “If I walk out that door, Robbie, we are over,” I say.

His eyes rise to meet mine.

“I mean it,” I whisper. “I want you in my life, but I won’t sacrifice my happiness because you are too fucking lazy to get off your ass and make a future for yourself.”

He clenches his jaw and goes back to his game. He begins to play.

I watch him through tears as I hear my angry heartbeat in my ears. “Robbie, please,” I whisper. “Come with me.”

He keeps his eyes on the screen as he begins to shoot people in his game. “Close the door on your way out.” He puts his headphones on to block me out.

I get a lump in my throat as I finally see our relationship for what it really is.

A sham.

I take a long look around his room as he plays his game, and I know that this is it.

The defining moment where I decide what I’m worth. What I want from life.

I can’t save him . . . if he doesn’t want to be saved.

What I want is someone who wants to grow with me, and I don’t even know what growth I want. But I can’t be stagnant here in his parents’ garage any longer.

I don’t even know who he is anymore . . . but this isn’t me.

The woman I want to be lives in New York and has the job of her dreams.

Sadness overwhelms me. I know what I have to do.

I walk over to him and take his headphones off. “I’m going.”

He stares at me.

“You’re better than this,” I whisper.

He clenches his jaw.

“Robbie,” I whisper. “You’re much more than just a football star. You need to believe that.”

His eyes search mine.

“Go and get some help.” I look around his room. “It’s going to be too late for us, but I want it for you.”

He drops his head and stares at the floor. I take his hand in mine. “Come with me,” I whisper. “Please, Robbie, pull out of this . . . if not for me, for yourself.”

“I can’t, Em.”

My eyes fill with tears, and I bend and kiss him softly one last time. I rub my fingers through his stubble and stare into his eyes. “Go and find whatever it is that makes you happy,” I whisper.

“You too,” he breathes sadly. I realize he doesn’t even want to fight it; he knows this is for the best. I smile at the bittersweet moment, and I kiss him softly, with tears rolling down my cheeks.

I get into my mother’s car and stare at his house for an extended time.

That was much easier and much harder than I imagined.