knees and rocked back and forth. Her eyes looked pained.
“She was my friend,” Jessica said.
“I know.”
“I wonder.”
“What?”
“What would I have done in the same situation? To protect you.”
“You wouldn’t have killed.”
“No,” she said. “I guess not.”
Myron watched her. She looked on the verge of tears. He said, “I think I learned something about us in all this.”
She waited for him to elaborate.
“Win and Esperanza didn’t want me to play again. But you never tried to stop me. I was afraid that maybe you didn’t understand me as well as they do. But that wasn’t the case at all. You saw what they couldn’t.”
Jessica studied his face with a penetrating gaze. She let go of her knees and slid her feet to the floor. “We’ve never really talked about this before,” she said.
He nodded.
“The truth is, you never mourned the end of your career,” Jessica went on. “You never showed weakness. You stuffed it all in some internal suitcase and moved on. You tackled everything else in your life with a smothering desperation. You didn’t wait. You seized whatever was left and pressed it against you, afraid your whole world was as fragile as that knee. You rushed off to law school. You ran off and helped Win. You frantically clung to whatever you could.” She stopped.
“Including you,” he finished.
“Yes. Including me. Not just because you loved me. Because you were afraid of losing more than you already had.”
“I did love you,” he said. “I still do.”
“I know. I’m not trying to put this all on you. I was an idiot. It was mostly my fault. I admit that. But your love back then bordered on the desperate. You channeled your grief into a grasping need. I was afraid of suffocating. I don’t want to sound like an amateur shrink, but you needed to mourn. You needed to put it behind you, not suppress it. But you wouldn’t face it.”
“You thought my playing again would make me face it,” he said.
“Yes.”
“It’s not like this was a cure-all.”
“I know,” she said. “But I think it helped you let go a little.”
“And that’s why you think now is a good time for me to move in.”
Jessica swallowed hard. “If you want,” she said. “If you feel ready.”
He looked up in the air and said, “I’ll need more closet space.”
“Done,” she whispered. “Whatever you want.”
She snuggled into him. He put his arms around her, pulled her close, and felt very much at home.
It was a sweltering morning in Tucson, Arizona. A big man opened his front door.
“Are you Burt Wesson?”
The big man nodded. “Can I help you with something?”
Win smiled. “Yes,” he said. “I think you can.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The author wishes to thank the following for their help: Anne Armstrong-Coben, M.D.; James Bradbeer, Jr., of Lilly Pulitzer; David Gold, M.D.; Maggie Griffin; Jacob Hoye; Lindsay Koehler; David Pepe of Pro Agents, Inc.; Peter Roisman of Advantage International; and, of course, Dave Bolt. Any errors—factual or otherwise—are totally their fault. The author is not to blame.
DEAL BREAKER
DROP SHOT
FADE AWAY
BACK SPIN
ONE FALSE MOVE
THE FINAL DETAIL
DARKEST FEAR
TELL NO ONE
GONE FOR GOOD
NO SECOND CHANCE
JUST ONE LOOK
THE INNOCENT
PROMISE ME
THE WOODS
HOLD TIGHT
