You had both built an empire...money, fame, a home that people only dreamed of.

There was only one thing you were missing.

A baby. A family.

But you knew better.

Football was everything to Zay. It meant more than promises, more than peace, more than you— more than anything.

It had consumed him; there was no time to have a baby.

Plus, you were different people now. So different from how you were in high school when you first met.

He was harder now, and both your senses of mortality had become skewed with time.

You’re tired, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes rimmed red, makeup smudged, hair still perfect because appearances always had to be.

In your bedroom, when you feel his presence behind you. The warmth of his body, the familiar scent of sweat and cologne as he wraps his arms around you.

“You’ve been sitting here for a while,” Isaiah murmurs, voice low, still rough from practice.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

You hesitate, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “About what we used to want… and what we still don’t have.”