He barked out a laugh devoid of humor. “That’s putting it mildly. His biggest dream is for me to sign with the NFL. He played college ball too, you know, but he tore his ACL and that ended his pro dreams. So he lived those dreams through me until I quote-unquote ‘threw my future away’ because I’m an idiot who can’t do anything right except throw a ball.”

Farrah lifted her head to look at him. “That’s not true. I’ve seen how hard you work. You’re definitely more than a meathead.”

“Maybe.” Blake wasn’t sure. He spent most of his life so focused on football he didn’t have time to do much else. He was a business major, and he did well in his classes, but he didn’t have any business experience except for a summer internship after his sophomore year. He had to fight his father tooth and nail on that one. Joe Ryan didn’t understand why Blake would throw away a summer’s worth of pre-season prep to toil in an office.

He thought about his idea to start his own sports bar, but that was all he did—think about it. Blake was too afraid of what might happen if he tried to do it. The last thing he wanted was to fail and prove his father right.

“Not maybe. For sure.” Farrah’s tone brooked no opposition. “Trust me, meatheads do not pick up Mandarin as quickly as you have.”

Blake’s mouth quirked up. “Know a lot of Mandarin-learning meatheads, do you?”

“I’m from L.A. You’d be surprised.” She rubbed her arms. Blake pulled her closer. The nip in the air felt good when they were walking, but it started to bite after they stopped moving. “So why did you quit football? Most guys would kill for a chance to join the NFL.”

She wasn’t the first person to ask him that question, but she was the first person he wanted to tell the truth to.

Blake weighed his words before he answered.

“A week after we won the national championship, I ran into Dan Griffin’s wife at an alumni event. He was a Mustangs quarterback back in the day. One of the best. Played for sixteen seasons in the NFL before he retired and became a sports broadcaster.” A lump formed in Blake’s throat when he remembered the look in her eyes. She’d been so sad and angry it wrenched his heart. “He died of CTE a few days before the event.”

Chronic traumatic encephalopathy, a degenerative brain disease found in those with a history of repetitive brain trauma—such as the concussions football players often endured on the field.

Blake had heard of CTE before. He never expected it to affect someone he knew, especially not someone as larger-than-life as Dan. He was invincible, or so it seemed.

Farrah’s eyes widened. “Oh my god.”

“I was close to Dan. He came to all the games and was my mentor, in a way, but I only met his wife a few times. She wasn’t much into the football world, and I didn’t know why she wanted to talk to me specifically except…” Blake looked down. “To warn me, I guess. To get out while I can. She didn’t want what happened to Dan to happen to me.”

Their paths were similar. Both Blake and Dan were Texas born and bred, high school football stars who chose to attend TSU after a recruitment war between the country’s top Division I schools. Both Heisman winners groomed for the NFL. Both buoyed and weighed down by the expectations of those around them.

There was only one difference.

“Dan loved football,” Blake said. “He lived for it and, in the end, died for it. I like football, but it was always more for my father than myself. I would’ve been happy being a normal student instead of a so-called sports star.” Sometimes he fantasized about what his life would’ve been like had that been the case. Would his relationship with his father be any different, or would they have been at odds over something else? Would his father have resented Blake for not following the football path he himself wanted but couldn’t take? “I don’t want to die for something I don’t love.”

When Blake found out what happened to Dan, he remembered all the hits he’d taken on the field. Every tackle replayed itself in his mind, including a brutal takedown by Oklahoma’s defense his sophomore year. It had led to pain so sharp he was sure he had a concussion, but he played through it because the team was counting on him and that’s what you did.

The Mustangs won. The pain went away. But what if one day it didn’t? Blake was healthy now. If he continued along his path, he might not be.

Dan’s death wiped away the dust, and he saw the writing on his wall. Could he say the same for his friends, family, and fans? Probably not. Football was a religion in Texas. Blake would get pilloried for being selfish and overdramatic if he revealed he quit because he was worried about CTE. So he kept his mouth shut and let the speculation run wild. It was better than the alternative.

Farrah squeezed his hand. “That’s understandable. I can’t imagine anyone would be mad about that.”

“You haven’t met my father.”

Farrah’s gaze swept down.

Blake winced when he realized how callous his complaint must sound. “I’m sorry. He and I have our differences, but I know I’m lucky he’s still here.”

“It’s ok.” Farrah fiddled with her necklace again. “My dad wasn’t the greatest dad either when he was alive. I feel terrible saying that because he was a good dad for a while.” Her voice wobbled. “He had an…interesting life before he married my mom. They settled down and had me, and everything was great until it wasn’t. My parents started fighting every night over stupid stuff—what channel to watch, whose turn it was to take out the trash—until my dad moved out. I was thirteen.”

Blake’s chest tightened as Farrah spoke. Thirteen was hard enough without having to deal with your parents’ separation.

"They separated for a year before divorcing. In that year, without my mom keeping an eye on him, my dad fell back into old bad habits. Smoking, drinking, gambling. He racked up a ton of debt, and he and my mom still had some joint accounts, so you can imagine how that went down. I remember walking into my mom’s bedroom one day after they divorced and seeing her cry. My mom never

cries. I was so pissed at my dad for putting us through all of that pain that when I saw him during our next visit, I called him all these horrible names, and I—” Farrah swallowed hard. “I said I wished he were dead.”

The tightness increased until Blake couldn’t breathe.

“A few days later, we got a call from my uncle. My dad had been dealing with liver cirrhosis for years, but it got worse without my mom looking after him. My uncle called to tell us my dad was in a coma.”

Tags: Ana Huang If Love Romance
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