Chapter 24

The team had taken over a corner of the hotel bar, the mood light and celebratory, laughter and the clinking of glasses filling the air. The Bears had pulled off a great win, and everyone was riding the high of it. Jay sat back in his seat, nursing a beer, letting the noise of the team wash over him. It was nice, in a way, being surrounded by the guys, unwinding after the intensity of the game.

But his mind? It was somewhere else.

With Erin.

He couldn't help it. He'd called her the second he could, and while she'd been supportive—sweet, even—something in her voice had felt… off. He told himself he was probably reading too much into it, but the thought lingered.

He missed her. More than he thought he would for just a couple of days.

"Alright, listen up, assholes," Adam's voice cut through the conversation, louder than necessary, his beer bottle dangling from his fingers. "Since we're all here, I might as well just say it."

Jay arched a brow, leaning forward slightly. Adam had that particular tone, the one he got when he was about to drop something big.

"I called it off," Adam said, glancing around at the team before taking a swig of his beer. "Wendy and I? We're done. Engagement's off."

A beat of silence followed before a chorus of responses—some surprised, some not. Ruzek had never been the type to keep things bottled up, but even this was sudden. Jay set his beer down, frowning slightly as he studied his friend.

"You serious?" Jay asked, his voice lower, more measured.

"Dead serious," Adam nodded, running a hand down his face before letting out a humorless chuckle. "It wasn't working, man. I mean, hell, we both knew it, we just didn't wanna admit it. Better now than later, right?"

Jay exchanged a glance with Atwater, who gave a slight shrug, as if to say, Damn, guess that's that.

"You good, though?" Jay asked, eyeing him.

Adam hesitated for half a second before exhaling. "I mean… I will be," he admitted, swirling his drink in his hand. "It's weird. Spent so long thinking this was the right thing, you know? But the second we actually talked about it, I knew. I knew I wasn't supposed to marry her. And I think she knew it, too."

Jay sat back, absorbing his words. It was crazy, how fast things could shift. One second, you thought you had everything figured out, and the next, you were standing at a crossroads, wondering what the hell just happened.

"You did what you had to do," Jay finally said, nudging Adam's shoulder lightly. "And if it wasn't right, better now than later."

Adam scoffed, shaking his head. "Damn, listen to you. When'd you become the guy giving relationship advice?"

Jay smirked, shaking his head. "I didn't."

Adam studied him for a second before his eyes narrowed slightly. "Wait a minute," he said, leaning in. "Hold on, let me guess—you called your girlfriend before you even took a sip of your drink tonight, didn't you?"

Jay rolled his eyes, reaching for his beer again. "Screw off, Ruzek."

"Unreal," Adam muttered, shaking his head in exaggerated disbelief. "Who even are you? Mr. I Don't Do Relationships is out here calling his girl before me? Damn, Halstead, what's next? You gonna send her flowers before practice?"

Atwater laughed, and Jay just gave Adam a dry look. "Maybe," he deadpanned, taking a sip of his beer. "You want some, too?"

Adam grinned, holding up his hands. "Nah, man, I think I'm good. But damn, never thought I'd see the day."

Jay just shook his head, the teasing rolling off him easily.

Let them talk. He wasn't going to deny it—he missed her. And now that Adam had brought it up, he was even more aware of it.

He just had to get through the rest of the night.

Then, he'd be one step closer to going home.

Adam took another long gulp of his beer, his eyes scanning the team. They were all laughing, enjoying themselves, but his mind was elsewhere, lost in the thoughts he hadn't quite put into words until now.

Jay had left his other teammates behind, wandering over to where Adam sat at the bar counter, the faint hum of the celebratory cheers fading into the background. He took a seat next to him, glancing at the three empty glasses in front of Adam, the man looking more distant than usual.

"I've been your best friend for what, 8 years? I think I'm authorized to tell you when you're making a huge mistake. Calling off your wedding, man?" Jay's voice was low but firm, his tone laced with concern.

Adam glanced at him, his fingers tightening around the neck of his bottle as he leaned back slightly, but his eyes weren't meeting Jay's. "It's not as easy as you think, Jay. You don't get it." His voice was rough, as though the weight of the situation was heavier than it appeared.

"Then explain it to me, man," Jay pressed, his eyebrows furrowing. "Because from where I'm standing, looks live you got cold feet."

Adam let out a long breath, his gaze flicking to his reflection in the glass in front of him before his eyes returned to the counter, not quite meeting Jay's anymore. "It wasn't just me.We argued,like a lot lately and,it felt too much.You shouldn't be this way around the person you are supposed to spend the rest of the life with."

"I'm not the person who can give you relationships advices,I know-"Jay started,but Adam stopped him right away.

"I don't need advice man.I know that it might be shocking news,but it was just a matter of time."

"How long,"Jay asked,"How long since you knew it was gonna end?"

Adam's fingers tightened around the bottle, the silence between them stretching out longer than either of them probably expected. He stared at the bottle, as if trying to find an answer in its amber contents. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost regretful.

"A while," he admitted. "A long while. Maybe… two months? Maybe more. It's hard to pinpoint. We'd been getting by, you know? Just pushing through it, pretending everything was fine. But then the little things started to add up, and it felt like we were just two people in the same room, not really… together."

Jay exhaled slowly, his mind trying to process the weight of Adam's words. Two months? That was a long time to keep pretending, to keep holding onto something that was already slipping through his fingers.

"You never thought about fixing it?" Jay asked, his voice quieter now, like he was treading carefully around a fragile subject. "Trying to work through it?"

Adam shook his head, the motion almost imperceptible. "I did. I tried. I even wanted to. But somewhere along the way, I realized I wasn't the person she needed me to be. And I couldn't keep doing this. Not to her, not to myself. It felt like I was just holding on to something for the sake of it, but I didn't know how to make it better anymore."

Jay let out a long breath, leaning back against the bar, rubbing his hands over his face.

His thoughts were spinning, a mix of sympathy for Adam and a gnawing feeling in his gut that he couldn't shake. It was hard to ignore the familiar sting of doubt that had crept into his own life, the fear that maybe… just maybe, he wasn't enough either.

"You're not the only one who's felt that way," Jay said, his voice low, almost to himself. "I get it, man. It's not easy. To keep fighting when you're not sure if the other person is in it the same way. But… I don't know. I guess sometimes you have to decide if it's worth fighting for."

Adam looked at him then, eyes tired but searching. "You think it's worth fighting for?"

Jay stared into his drink, his own reflection looking back at him like a stranger. He hadn't realized how much his own doubts were starting to cloud his mind until Adam asked that. The fear of not being enough, of being too messed up to make something work. Of being in a relationship where the other person deserved better.

"I don't know," Jay admitted, the words tasting bitter as they left his mouth. "I guess… you have to decide that for yourself."

Adam's eyes softened slightly, as if Jay's words had reached him. "Can I ask you something?"

Jay nodded, lifting his drink to his lips but pausing just before taking a sip. "Yeah, of course."

Adam let out a slow breath, his fingers drumming against the bar. "Do you ever think… maybe we just aren't meant for this?"

Jay frowned, lowering his glass. "What do you mean?"

"This," Adam gestured vaguely, his voice a mix of frustration and something almost vulnerable. "The whole relationship thing. Having something real, something that actually lasts. Maybe guys like us… maybe we just don't get to have that."

Jay's grip on his drink tightened. It wasn't the first time he'd had the same thought, but hearing Adam say it out loud made it feel heavier, like it carried more weight than just a passing fear.

"I mean, look at us," Adam continued, shaking his head. "Football is our life. We travel, we train, we barely have time to think, let alone build a life with someone. Wendy… she wanted something stable, something normal. And I couldn't give her that. I thought I could, but I was lying to myself. And to her."

Jay exhaled slowly, his thoughts drifting to Erin, to the way she had looked at him before he left, the way her voice had softened over the phone just now. I miss you. The words had stuck with him more than he'd expected.

"I don't know if it's about us not being meant for this," Jay said carefully. "I think it's about who we choose. What we're willing to fight for."

Adam scoffed. "You really believe that?"

Jay hesitated, his mind flashing through every failed relationship he'd had before Erin. The ones that had ended before they even had the chance to start. The ones that had burned out too quickly.

"I want to," Jay admitted. "But it's scary as hell. I look at Erin, and I—" He cut himself off, rubbing a hand over his jaw before shaking his head. "I don't want to mess this up. I don't want to be that guy who thinks he can have it all, only to realize too late that he's been screwing it up from the start."

Adam studied him for a long moment before letting out a dry chuckle. "Man, you got it bad."

Jay gave him a sideways glance. "What?"

"You're in deep with this girl," Adam said, a small smirk pulling at his lips. "I've never seen you like this before."

Jay huffed out a laugh, but it lacked humor. "Yeah, well… that's what scares me."

Adam nodded, his expression turning serious again. "Just… don't do what I did, alright? Don't hold on too tight out of fear, but don't let go just because it's hard. If you think she's worth it, you fight for it. You don't just assume it's doomed."

"But you thought Wendy was worthy too,didn't you?" Jay asked,eyes flickering as he tried to find a sense in all of this.

Adam exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face before gripping his beer again. "Yeah," he admitted. "I did." He stared at the bottle in his hands, turning it slowly between his fingers. "But it was..us.We weren't worth it.The fights,the yelling..I didn't like what I was becoming.I realized I was fighting more to convince myself than to actually make it work."

Jay absorbed Adam's words, letting them settle in the quiet space between them. He watched the way Adam's fingers tightened around his beer bottle, the way his shoulders slumped just slightly—like a man who had already spent too much time carrying the weight of his decision.

"You think you could've done something different?" Jay finally asked, his voice quieter now.

Adam let out a humorless chuckle. "Maybe. But if I have to sit here and ask myself that, then maybe it was never right in the first place." He sighed, leaning back against the bar. "You ever heard that thing people say? That love is supposed to make you better?"

Jay nodded slowly.

"Well, with Wendy… we didn't make each other better," Adam admitted, his voice raw with honesty. "We made each other worse. The fights, the resentment, the constant push and pull… that's not what love is supposed to be."

Jay swallowed hard, his mind instinctively going to Erin. It hadn't even been that long, but already, she felt like something solid in his life, something he didn't want to lose.

They hadn't fought yet—not really—but what if they did? What if this thing between them, as good as it felt now, wasn't built to last?

As if reading his thoughts, Adam glanced over at him. "That's not you and Erin," he said, his tone surprisingly sure.

Jay's brows furrowed slightly. "How do you know?"

Adam smirked, shaking his head. "Because I see the way you talk about her, man. I see the way you look at your damn phone like you're waiting for her to text you. And more than that… I see the way you are when you're with her."

Jay scoffed. "And how's that?"

"Like a guy who actually has something to lose for once."

Jay didn't have a response to that. Because, for the first time in a long time, maybe ever—he knew Adam was right.

"Look," Adam said,turning around and facing him more this time,let's put things this way," He continued,now pointing at a table near them. "Do you see that girl?Brunette with green top?"

Jay nodded in confusion.

"And what's your point?" he asked, though a part of him already knew.

Adam sighed, shaking his head like he couldn't believe he had to spell it out. "My point is—if I was really in love with Wendy, if I wanted to marry her and spend my life with her, I wouldn't have even thought about it. It wouldn't have been an option. I wouldn't have had to stop myself." He looked Jay dead in the eye. "That's how I knew it was over before I ever admitted it."

Jay exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. He didn't like where this was headed.

Adam smirked, like he could see right through him. "Now tell me—when was the last time you even considered talking to another girl like that?"

Jay opened his mouth, then closed it. He wanted to argue, wanted to throw back some kind of retort, but his mind came up blank. His eyes flickered over to the girl Adam had pointed out, brunette in a green top, laughing at something her friend said.

A few months ago, he would've gone over there without hesitation, maybe offered to buy her a drink, flashed his usual easy grin, and seen where the night took them.

But now?

He barely felt the urge. He could acknowledge she was pretty, sure, but that was it. No impulse to walk over, no pull to strike up a conversation. His thoughts weren't there—not even close.

And that realization hit him harder than he expected.

He took a slow sip of his beer, as if that would help clear his head. "That doesn't mean anything," he muttered, but the words lacked conviction.

Adam just grinned, leaning back against the bar. "Keep telling yourself that."

Jay swallowed, staring down at his drink.

Because the worst part?

Adam wasn't wrong.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, but Jay didn't move at first. He stood there for half a second longer than necessary, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes unfocused. The quiet hum of the hotel hallway stretched out in front of him, a sharp contrast to the low thrum of music and conversation still lingering in his mind from the bar downstairs.

Adam's words clung to him, heavier than the weight of the alcohol in his bloodstream, heavier than he wanted them to be.

With a slow exhale, he stepped out and made his way down the hall, his footsteps muted against the plush carpet. He pulled his keycard from his pocket, swiped it against the reader, and pushed open the door to his room. The second he stepped inside, the silence hit him harder.

It was suffocating.

Jay tossed the key onto the nearby dresser, shrugging out of his jacket and letting it fall carelessly onto the chair in the corner. He went straight for the mini fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of water. Twisting off the cap, he took a long sip, but it didn't do much to settle the feeling sitting heavy in his chest.

He placed the bottle down with a dull thud against the nightstand before scrubbing a hand down his face. His mind was still running, still circling back to everything Adam had said.

Adam had been the first one to make him think—really think—that maybe things could be different for him. That maybe he didn't have to keep doing the same thing, living the same way, repeating the same cycle over and over again. That maybe he could try.

And for a while, that had been enough.

But now?

Now, Adam was saying that trying hadn't been enough.

That despite the moments he had spent with Wendy, despite the engagement, despite every moment where he had convinced himself he was happy—deep down, he had always known.

He had known he could have walked away at any moment, could have entertained other possibilities, could have looked at someone else and felt something.

And because of that—because of that one thing—he had realized it was over before he had ever admitted it.

Jay sat down on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he laced his fingers together, staring at the floor.

What if Adam was right?

Not just about himself—but about Jay, too?

What if Jay wasn't wired for this?

What if relationships just weren't in his nature?

For as long as he could remember, he had lived his life a certain way. He had never been the guy who settled down, never been the one to overthink things, never been the one to let anything last too long. And it had always worked. He hadn't needed to try—because it had never been a question.

And yet, here he was.

Lying awake in a hotel room, dissecting every single thing Adam had said, questioning himself in a way he never had before.

The truth was, Adam's logic made sense. If he had been happy—really happy—if he had been in it the way he was supposed to be, he wouldn't have had to second-guess it. He wouldn't have had to hold himself back.

Jay swallowed, leaning back against the headboard, his arms crossed over his chest.

Hadn't he done the same thing?

Hadn't he spent years telling himself he didn't need more than a few weeks, that nothing beyond that would work for him? Hadn't he made it his thing to keep things light, to never let anyone in too deep?

And if Adam, who had actually tried, who had wanted it, still hadn't been able to make it work… then what the hell made Jay think he could?

His eyes flickered toward his phone on the nightstand, the dim glow casting a soft light across the dark room.

Erin's name.

Jay's breath hitched for a second, his pulse kicking up—not in an obvious, overwhelming way, but in that subtle, undeniable way that told him, yeah, she gets to you.

She always did.

The vibration stopped, and the room fell silent again. He didn't move at first, just stared at the screen as her name lingered there for a moment before fading into darkness.

He swallowed.

There was a part of him—one he wasn't ready to admit was growing bigger—that wanted to reach for it immediately.

To see what she had said, to hear her voice if she'd left a message, to have some kind of confirmation that she was thinking about him, too.

But there was another part—the part still tangled up in Adam's words, in his own uncertainty, in the weight of everything he wasn't sure he was ready for—that hesitated.

Because what if this was temporary?

What if this thing with Erin was just a longer version of everything he'd done before?

What if, at the end of the day, he still wasn't the guy who could make it work?

Jay exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face before finally reaching for the phone. He flipped it over, thumb hovering over the screen for a beat before unlocking it.

One new message.

Hey, you up?

His jaw clenched, a strange mix of emotions settling in his chest. It was simple—just three words. But he knew Erin. Knew she wasn't the kind of person to send something just for the hell of it.

Jay stared at the message for a moment, his mind working against him. Was this her just checking in? Was she feeling the same pull he was? Or was it something else entirely—something that had nothing to do with him at all?

He should answer.

Jay let out a slow breath, his fingers gripping the phone a little tighter.

Maybe sleep would help. Maybe if he just closed his eyes, let the weight of exhaustion settle in, he'd wake up with a clearer head. A lighter heart.

But sleep didn't come.

He turned onto his side, then onto his back again, staring up at the ceiling. The silence of the hotel room stretched around him, heavy and unmoving. The kind of quiet that made everything louder—his thoughts, the doubts circling in his mind, the feeling that had been sitting in his chest since Adam had spoken.

His eyes flickered back to his phone.

Erin's message still sat there, waiting.

Maybe it was a sign.

Maybe if he couldn't shake it, if he couldn't just let it go and fall asleep, it meant he should text her.

Jay exhaled, rolling onto his side as he unlocked his phone, his fingers hesitating over the keyboard.

Yeah, I'm up.

It was simple. Nonchalant. Nothing too much.

But as he stared at the words, something about it felt off. It didn't match the weight in his chest, the way she had been on his mind even before she'd texted.

So he erased it.

Instead, he typed:

Can't sleep. You?

He stared at the message for a second before hitting send.

He sat there, phone in hand, staring at the screen as the dots bounced, indicating the message had been sent. But even as the message left his phone, Jay couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

It wasn't the words. It wasn't the fact that he had reached out to her—it was the fact that he felt this way.

This… uncertainty.

Jay had never been the kind of guy to second-guess himself. He'd always been confident, secure in what he wanted, even if it was fleeting. But with Erin? It was different.

And for the first time, that different wasn't comforting.

He didn't like feeling this way—hesitant, unsure, like he was constantly questioning himself. It felt like a crack in the armor he'd spent years building.

But… maybe that was part of what he loved about their relationship.

The thing that had drawn him to Erin in the first place was how easy it all was. How it wasn't like all the other shallow flings he had before. With her, there were no games, no pretenses, no walls to climb over.

They just… clicked.

They could talk for hours or sit in silence without it ever being awkward. They could fight and make up, and it never felt like something that needed to be overcomplicated.

That was the thing about Erin. She made him feel at ease.

Even when everything else in his life felt like a tangled mess, she was this steady, calming force. And now, all of a sudden, he was questioning everything.

What had changed?

Was it just the weight of Adam's words? Was it the reality of having to confront himself and his inability to make things work? Or had something shifted between them without him even realizing it?

Jay leaned back against the headboard, letting the phone fall to his chest. His gaze shifted to the window, where the night sky stretched dark and endless outside.

He didn't like feeling like this. This uncertainty, this… doubt.

He missed the simplicity of their connection, the comfort of knowing that, for once, he didn't have to hide behind his usual mask.

He missed feeling like himself.

A ping pulled him out of his thoughts, and he glanced down at the screen.

Not really. Just been thinking.

Jay felt a rush of relief—just a tiny one, but enough to make his chest ease for the first time all night. She was just thinking, too.

He picked up the phone, his thumb hovering over the screen.

About?

And as he sent the message, he realized something. It wasn't about the uncertainty anymore. It wasn't about the doubts creeping in or Adam's words trying to shift his perspective.

It was about her.

And that, at least, felt like something he could trust. Her answer came short after,making him smile a bit.

Jay's heart gave a little lurch as he read her message. It was simple—just a few words—but it hit him in a way he hadn't expected. The idea that she missed him, that she was thinking about him just as much as he was thinking about her, felt like a relief, a reassurance in the midst of all his confusion.

You. I kinda miss you, isn't it crazy? I mean, you're coming back tomorrow.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the weight on his chest finally starting to ease. Her words were light, playful even, but there was an honesty in them that was undeniable. It was a warmth that wrapped around him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn't question it.

He typed back quickly, the familiar, easy rhythm of their conversation falling back into place.

Not crazy at all. I miss you too.

The message left his screen with a satisfying ping, and for a moment, Jay let himself just sit with the feeling of it.

This was the thing.So he decided to act on it.

Can I call you?

Jay stared at the phone in his hand for a moment longer, feeling a surge of something he hadn't quite expected. Maybe it was the vulnerability that had been creeping in, or maybe it was just the simple fact that he wanted to hear her voice.

Either way, he knew he couldn't keep second-guessing himself. So, without overthinking it, he typed out the message.

The words seemed so… simple. But with Erin? They felt loaded with everything he hadn't said yet, everything he wasn't sure how to express.

He hit send before he could talk himself out of it.His thumb hovered over the phone as he waited, his chest tight and a little restless.

The feeling of wanting something real, something more with her, was growing stronger by the second. But what did that mean for him? For them?

Was he ready to let go of the distance he'd built around himself all these years?

The ping came quickly, breaking through his thoughts.

Of course.

A wave of relief hit him, followed by a rush of anticipation. There was something about hearing her voice, about talking to her in real time, that made everything feel easier.

Jay didn't waste another second. He tapped her name and waited for the connection, his heart beating a little faster as the call started to ring.

The phone rang a few beats before Erin's voice came through the line, warm and steady, and Jay felt like he'd just found a tether to reality.

"Hey, babe," she greeted, and he could almost picture the soft smile on her face.

"Hey," Jay replied, his voice a little strained. He let out a long breath, trying to shake off the tension clinging to him. "I hope I'm not waking you up."

"No, you're good," Erin replied, her voice light and reassuring. "What's going on? You okay?"

Jay leaned back against the headboard, letting the weight of the day sink into his muscles. He had called her because he needed to talk, but he was struggling to figure out where to start. It was a mess, and it had to come out somehow.

"Adam…" Jay started, his throat tightening as he tried to form the words. "Adam and Wendy… They broke off their engagement."

There was a long pause on the other end, and Jay knew Erin was waiting for him to say more. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words, but it felt like everything he wanted to say was tangled up inside him.

"It just—it hit me, you know?" Jay continued, his voice shaky, even as he tried to keep his tone steady. "I don't know. The whole thing, the way Adam was talking about it… He said he could've tried harder, that he could've been better for her, but he didn't. And it just, I don't know, made me think about myself and… what I've been doing."

He paused, swallowing hard. He didn't even know if he was making sense at this point. "I've never been good at this. At… relationships. I've always kept things light, kept it easy, because that's what I thought I could handle. But with all of this, I'm starting to wonder if I can really do this. You know, like—be in something real, something that could actually go somewhere."

Erin's voice came through the line again, soft and steady, cutting through his rambling. "Jay… you're scared, and that's okay."

Jay let out a long breath, the weight of her words slowly sinking in. "I don't know why I'm so scared, Erin. I just keep thinking I'll screw it up, or that maybe I'm just not cut out for this kind of thing. And then I wonder if I'm just running from something real, something that could actually work, because I'm not sure I know how to trust that."

There was a pause on the other end, and Jay felt himself holding his breath, waiting for her response. He wasn't sure if he was just making her nervous or if she'd understand what he was trying to say.

Erin's voice came again, calm but full of understanding. "Jay, I get it. I do. I've been there, and I'm still figuring it out too. It's not easy. But just because you're scared doesn't mean it's over, you know? It's okay to not have it all figured out right now. And you're not the only one with doubts, or baggage, or whatever else. I don't have all the answers, either. But that doesn't mean I'm going anywhere."

Jay's chest tightened, the words hitting him harder than he expected.

There was no rush, no pressure—just her, speaking softly like she understood everything that was floating in his mind, and it made him feel a little lighter, a little less alone in all this.

"I don't want to go anywhere.I don't.But what if it's just who I am?I've always been running,when my mom was sick,I deployed.When she died,I moved on the other side of Chicago."

Erin's voice came softly, gently, cutting through the weight of Jay's confession."When my mother messed up my apartment,you didn't run.You showed up at my dad's place,a dad you never met and who carries a gun for a living.You didn't run,you showed up Jay,that's something."

Jay's breath caught in his chest, the weight of her words sinking in deeper than he expected. He hadn't even realized how much he needed to hear that—how much he needed to be reminded that he wasn't always running, that maybe there was a part of him that was capable of staying.

He leaned back into the bed, closing his eyes for a moment, letting her words swirl around him. He hadn't thought about that night in a while—the night her mother had gone off the rails, causing chaos in her apartment, and he had just… shown up.

No questions, no hesitation.

It was just something he did. No part of him had wanted to run from Erin, even when things got complicated. He'd been there for her when it mattered, even when his own fears were trying to pull him in the other direction.

But still, he hesitated.

"I don't know why I'm like this," Jay admitted, the words spilling out, raw and unfiltered. "I've spent so much of my life keeping people at arm's length, trying to keep things casual, keep them easy. And then Adam—he just… he said it tonight. About his engagement with Wendy. How he realized he could've tried harder, but he didn't. And now… now I'm wondering if I'm just too screwed up to even try with someone else. With you."

He heard Erin's soft breath on the other end of the line, and he almost wished she were there with him. He needed her presence, the warmth of her voice, the steady reassurance she always gave him.

"You're not screwed up, Jay," Erin said, her voice gentle but firm. "You've been through a lot. And the way you handle it… maybe it's not the easiest way, but it's the way you've known. But you're not stuck there. Not with me. Not if you don't want to be."

"No," Jay immediately said, "I want to.I want to be stuck with you.That's like the whole point,I-I'm just so damn scared i'll ruin one of the best things that ever happened to me."

"Then you have your answer,babe.We just have to be honest with each other."

Her voice was soft, but there was a depth to it, a certainty that made him want to believe her. He wanted to let go of the fear, to stop carrying the weight of all his past mistakes. But it was hard, so damn hard to let down the walls he'd built up over the years.

"I don't want to let you down," Jay said, his words barely more than a whisper.

"You're not going to," Erin said, more firmly this time. "You're not going to let me down because I'm not expecting you to be someone you're not. I just want you to be you, Jay. The good parts, the messy parts. All of it."

Jay let out a long, shaky breath, his grip on the phone loosening just slightly. She was giving him something he didn't even know he needed—permission. Permission to be imperfect, to be scared, to be human. She wasn't asking him to fix himself.She was just telling him they could face it all,together.He wasn't used to that,but maybe he didn't mind the thought.

"Now that we're telling things," Erin said,before taking a big breath,"I was..i don't know..scared? When you left."

Jay's heart skipped a beat at her confession. The vulnerability in her voice, the raw honesty—it made something inside him shift, like he had been holding his breath for too long and could finally exhale.

"You were?" His voice was almost a whisper, unsure if he'd heard her

"Yeah," Erin continued, her tone quiet but firm. "But I didn't tell you, cause I know it was just a stupid thing."

"What were you scared about?"

"Your old habits,"She exhaled,"I guess.I'm-I'm not the kind of girl that you see in a bar and makes an impression.You've been with models,beautiful girls and I-"

Jay's heart clenched as he heard the insecurity in her voice. Erin, the woman who had captured every part of him, was scared that she wasn't enough—at least, not in the way others might expect. And it hit him harder than he could have imagined.

"Erin," he said gently, his voice low, the weight of what she'd said hanging in the air between them, "You've got this all wrong."

"I don't know, Jay…" Erin's voice faltered, unsure of herself. "I'm not like the women you've been with. I'm not—" she paused, clearly searching for the words, "I'm not some sexy, experienced person who knows how to do all the right things. I— I just—I don't think I have that kind of effect on you."

Jay's chest tightened with frustration and, honestly, a little disbelief. She couldn't be serious. He had to make her see.

"No, no, Erin, you don't get it," he said, his voice firm but soft, wanting her to hear the truth. "You drive me absolutely crazy. You don't have to be anything other than who you are, and that's what drives me insane. It's you, just you, and that's more than enough for me."

He took a deep breath before continuing, leaning into the phone, his words coming with the rawness he usually reserved for the quietest moments.

"You don't have to be crazy sexy. You already are," Jay said, his voice filled with intensity. "In a way that I can't even explain. The way you carry yourself, the way you talk, the way you laugh—it drives me wild, Erin. And not in some superficial way, but in a way that makes me want to be closer to you, every second of every day."

Jay rubbed his hand over his face, trying to find the right words, knowing that nothing would come out perfect. But she needed to hear this.He swallowed hard, knowing he was laying his heart on the line, but it felt good. It felt like he was finally saying what he needed to say.

"I think about you all the time. And it's not just your looks—it's the way you make me feel when I'm around you. You make me laugh, you make me think, you make me feel things I can't explain. No one else does that. No one else has ever had that kind of effect on me."

Erin's breath caught on the other end of the phone, and Jay felt a shift in the air, like she was beginning to understand, or at least starting to believe him.

"I don't care about anything but you," Jay continued. "And if you think for a second that you're anything less than everything I could ever want, then you're wrong. I'm not here because I want someone else. I'm here because you're the one I want—only you. No one else. Just you."

There was silence on the other end of the line, but Jay didn't mind. He needed her to process, to let his words sink in. Finally, she spoke, her voice quieter now but with a new kind of certainty.

"Jay…" She exhaled, almost like she was trying to find the right words. "You really mean that?"

"Every word," he said, his voice tender but unwavering. "I mean it more than anything."

Erin was quiet for a moment, but when she finally spoke again, her voice was softer, like a weight had been lifted. "Okay. I get it. I believe you."

Jay smiled, relief washing over him. For a moment, the tension between them seemed to dissipate. It wasn't perfect, but it felt real.

"Maybe we needed this talk-for our insecurities?I guess."

Erin let out a soft laugh, the sound light and genuine, a little of her usual spark returning. "Yeah, maybe," she agreed. "I think we both needed to hear things we were too afraid to say out loud."

Jay's smile softened, his gaze distant for a moment as he processed her words. "I think it's good though," he murmured. "That we can talk about this stuff, you know? Even if it's uncomfortable."

"Yeah," Erin's voice was quiet but steady. "I guess that's how it's supposed to be. No pretending, no hiding."

Jay let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing. "Yeah,I guess."

He could hear her smile into the phone,before talking again.

"At what time do you come back tomorrow?" She asked hoping,clearly to see him again.

"I think I'm falling for you.Like-hard."

Erin's breath caught for a moment, her smile faltering slightly, but it didn't feel awkward. It was like the words he said hung there, filling the space between them with something deeper, something unspoken until now.

Jay's heart was racing, suddenly feeling exposed in a way he wasn't used to. But there it was—he couldn't take it back now, couldn't pretend he didn't mean it. It was out in the open.

"I—" Erin's voice broke slightly, but there was no hesitation in her next words. "I think I'm falling for you too, Jay. Like, more than I've ever let myself fall for anyone before."

Jay's chest tightened, but in a good way, like a weight had been lifted, like the breath he didn't realize he was holding was finally free. "Yeah?" he asked softly, his voice a little quieter now. "Really?"

"Really," she replied, her voice steady but full of warmth. "You're not just the quarterback, or the guy with the charm, Jay. You're… you're something else. You're the kind of person I didn't know I was looking for."

Jay's heart thudded in his chest, the raw honesty of her words making him feel like he could finally breathe fully again. "God, Erin, I don't know what I'd do without you."

He heard her laugh softly, her tone lightening the moment, but there was still something in her voice that made Jay believe every word. "Well, you don't have to figure that out anytime soon," she teased. "I'm not going anywhere. Not if you want me to stay."

Jay's grin spread across his face. "I want you to stay. I think I've wanted that for a while, even if I didn't know how to say it."

There was a pause, just enough space for the weight of everything they'd shared to settle. Erin's voice came through again, quieter but full of that same steady warmth.

"So, about tomorrow?" she asked again, a little shy this time, but still hopeful.

Jay smiled, leaning back against his pillows, the stress of the day slowly ebbing away. "I'll be home by noon. And I'm not wasting a second. I'll come see you as soon as I can."

Erin's voice softened with affection. "Can't wait."

And for the first time in a long time, Jay believed it—whatever came next, he wasn't facing it alone.