a/n: this was a request and it was so cute to write for.
about: When it's your one year old boy's birthday party and Joe has a hard time facing reality.
warnings: pure fluff
The house was already loud before 9 a.m.
Balloons pressed against the ceiling, blue and white streamers taped slightly crooked along the walls—because Joe insisted on helping and refused to admit he couldn’t reach properly without a chair. The smell of vanilla cake filled the air, mixed with coffee and the faint scent of baby lotion.
And in the middle of it all sat Joe—still in sweatpants, hair messy, completely ignoring everything else—on the living room floor.
With his son in his lap.
“Hey,” you said softly from the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame with a small smile. “You planning on letting him go today or…?”
Joe didn’t even look up.
“No.”
You laughed under your breath. “Joe—”
“He’s one,” he cut in, finally glancing up at you, his expression serious in a way that made your chest tighten. “He’s literally one today. That’s—” he shook his head like he couldn’t even process it. “That’s insane.”
Your son—Eli—giggled, grabbing onto Joe’s hoodie strings and trying to shove them into his mouth.
Joe gently pulled them away. “Nope. Not today, man. It’s your birthday. We’re keeping it classy.”
You walked over, crouching beside them. “Classy?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.
Joe shrugged. “As classy as a one-year-old can be.”
Eli squealed again, leaning forward into Joe’s chest like it was the safest place in the world.
Joe froze for just a second.
Then softened completely.
He pressed a kiss to the top of Eli’s head, eyes closing like he was trying to memorize the moment.
And just like that—you knew.
Today was going to be a lot for him.
By noon, the house was full.
Family, teammates, friends—voices overlapping, laughter echoing, someone arguing about music in the kitchen. Gifts piled up near the couch, colorful and chaotic.
And still—
Joe barely moved.
He stood near the corner of the living room, Eli tucked securely in his arms, one big hand supporting his back like second nature. Every time someone approached, Joe shifted slightly away without even realizing it.
“Let me hold him!” one of your friends said, already reaching out.
Joe instinctively turned his body.
“He’s good,” he said quickly.
You shot him a look from across the room.
He ignored it.
Ten minutes later, it happened again.
“C’mon, man,” one of his teammates laughed. “It’s his birthday, not yours.”
Joe forced a smile, but his grip tightened just a little.
“I know,” he said. “I just—he’s… yeah.”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
He didn’t need to.
You found him in the hallway a little while later, away from the noise.
Still holding Eli.
Still not letting go.
“Joe,” you said gently.
He looked up, already knowing.
“I know what you’re gonna say.”
“Do you?” you asked, crossing your arms but keeping your tone soft.
He sighed, shifting Eli slightly higher on his hip. “You’re gonna tell me I have to share.”
“I am gonna tell you that.”
He looked down at Eli, who was now half-asleep against his chest, tiny fingers curled into Joe’s shirt.
“I just…” Joe’s voice dropped, quieter now. “I feel like I blinked.”
Your expression softened.
“He was just born,” Joe continued, shaking his head. “Like—I remember holding him in the hospital and being terrified to even move. And now he’s—” he let out a breath. “He’s one.”
You stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm.
“He’s still your baby.”
“I know,” Joe said quickly. “I know, but it’s not the same. He’s growing up and I—” he paused, jaw tightening slightly. “I don’t get this year back.”
That hit you right in the chest.
“You’re not losing him,” you said quietly.
Joe looked at you, eyes a little glassy now.
“It just feels like it.”
For a second, neither of you spoke.
Then you reached up, brushing your fingers gently along Eli’s back.
“You don’t have to let go all day,” you said softly. “Just… a little. Let people love him too.”
Joe hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Okay.”
He lasted about twenty minutes.
You watched from across the room as Joe carefully handed Eli over to his mom, lingering for a second too long before finally letting go.
And then—
He didn’t stop watching.
Every laugh, every bounce, every tiny movement—Joe tracked it all like he was afraid Eli might disappear if he looked away.
“Relax,” you teased, stepping beside him.
“I am relaxed,” he said, way too quickly.
You smirked. “You look like you’re about to call a timeout.”
Joe huffed out a quiet laugh, but his eyes stayed on Eli.
“Maybe I am.”
By the time the party wound down, the house felt calmer.
Quieter.
The balloons were still there, the wrapping paper scattered, the leftover cake sitting slightly lopsided on the counter.
But it was just you, Joe, and Eli now.
Finally.
Eli sat on the floor between you, surrounded by his new toys, babbling happily to himself.
Joe leaned back against the couch, watching him with a soft, tired smile.
“He had a good day,” you said.
“Yeah,” Joe nodded. “He did.”
Silence settled in—but it wasn’t heavy.
It was full.
Joe reached forward, picking Eli up again and pulling him into his lap like he’d been waiting all day to do it.
Eli immediately rested his head against Joe’s chest.
“Hey, birthday boy,” Joe murmured.
You watched them, your heart squeezing in a way you couldn’t explain.
“You okay?” Joe asked suddenly, glancing up at you.
You blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah. Why?”
He tilted his head. “You look like you’re about to cry.”
You let out a small laugh.
“I’m not—”
Your voice broke slightly.
Joe’s expression softened instantly.
“Oh,” he said quietly.
You covered your face for a second, shaking your head. “This is stupid.”
“It’s not stupid.”
You dropped your hands, eyes a little watery now. “He’s one, Joe.”
“I know.”
“I feel like I blinked too,” you admitted.
Joe shifted closer, one arm wrapping around you while still holding Eli.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Me too.”
You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder.
Eli let out a sleepy little sound between you, completely content.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
You just sat there.
All three of you.
Joe pressed a gentle kiss to Eli’s head.
Then to yours.
“Best year of my life,” he whispered.
Your throat tightened.
“Yeah,” you murmured. “Mine too.”
Joe looked down at Eli again, brushing his thumb lightly over his cheek.
“Just one more minute,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
summary: It happened suddenly, you and Joe had broken up and you never understood exactly how it happened. All you know is that his ex-girlfriend was brought up and an argument started leaving to you being heartbroken. Your friends swore to you that they would stop at nothing until you got over your ex-boyfriend, but what if that's harder than you think?
Pairing: Joe Burrow (Bengals/NFL) x Fem! Reader (Joe Burrow x You)
Requested: Yes | No
Warning(s): mentions of heartbreak and breaking up, mentions of Joe x Olivia, mentions of alcohol.
Little note from me: This is the first time I have ever written for Joe Burrow. I usually write for Tee Higgins and Josh Allen. I wanted to give Joe a try because he is starting to grow on me a little bit. I may end up making a part 2 to this if I feel like it. Also I started writing this in Y/N format and then I switched to "You" after like the second paragraph lol. *gif not mine*
Word Count (lyrics not included): 4.5k
*Not Edited*
I also hate how I ended this. I need to work on the ending of my stories but I will work on getting better. May be a part 2 later... I haven't decided yet!
I've stopped looking for your truck, every time I go somewhere
I don't scroll through the past anymore 'cause I don't care
I'm finally putting on the shirt I like, tight jeans, big hoops with my hair up high.
The least you could've done was give me the bar tonight.
Y/N browsed her outfits that she had brought over to her friends house. Her and her girls were having a girls night and going to the bar to let loose and have fun. It happened to be her best friends idea, mainly because she had been struggling to get over a recent breakup. Y/BFF/N had insisted that he wasn’t worth it and that she was going to get you over him one way or another.
“Let me do your hair, Y/N!” One of the girls in your group spoke up. She was the hairstylist and makeup guru of the group, so she was the designated hair and makeup artist for the friend groups and any events that they attended. “I’ll fix your makeup too.”
Y/N knew arguing would be pointless, so she sat down in the vanity chair and let her hair artist friend have at it. “I need help picking an outfit.” She spoke up looking towards her best friend while the other friend continued doing her hair. “I’m torn between the three on the bed.” She added pointing to the three outfits.
In less than 20 minutes, her hair was done and makeup was touched up. Her best friend had left her choice on the bed before finishing getting ready and making everyone a pregame shot before heading to the bar. She was finishing pulling up her jeans when her friends came in with two trays of shots.
“I’m not sure about this outfit.” Y/N spoke up. She usually wasn’t one to feel insecure, but looking at herself dressed in a pair of tight skinny jeans and a blouse, both of them not belonging to her, made her self conscious. “Why didn’t you pick one of my outfits?” She asked her best friend turning around.
“Girl, you look hot!” She replied not answering your question at first. “You’re freshly single, so we’re gonna act like it today.” She added picking up a shot and handing it to you.
You hesitantly grabbed the alcohol before glancing around the group of girls you loved so much. They were your best friends and you would do anything for them and they would do anything for you. “To Y/N, for finally taking a large step in getting over the dick.”
“Cheers to that.” The other girls replied before downing the shot.
“Don’t call him that.” You spoke up softly hating the way her comment made you feel. The night you two broke up was still a blur and was anything but easy for you. More than likely you had blacked it out due to heartbreak, but still it lingered in your mind.
“Honey, he had his hooks sunk deep in you. So deep that you literally wouldn’t even walk into a shop, restaurant, or anything if you noticed a vehicle that looked like his.” Y/BFF/N reminded you as you threw back your shot in hopes of forgetting about Joe tonight. Your ultimate goal was to finally and fully move on, to get over Joe tonight.
After a couple more shots, the girls were heading to their favorite bar. Which just so happened to be the bar that Y/N and Joe always went to together.
Why'd you have to come back in right then
right when I was just getting good and gone?
'Cause I was in the wrong place at the wrong time
You must've heard I was moving on,
Then right out of the blue
a quarter past two, I'm all about you.
When I was just about, just about over you.
The girls had gotten to the bar around 11:45 or midnight. It was officially 1:42 and Y/N was letting loose. She felt the best she had in forever and to her, it had nothing to do with the guy that she was practically grinding against. The alcohol in her system made her feel a bit more easy-going and less paranoid of running into “he-who-should-not-be-named” at their bar.
The loud pounding music came to a halt and was replaced with a slower song causing you to turn around and face to mystery bar guy. You weren’t one to just go and have hook-ups with anyone or randomly show pda to guys you didn’t know. In a plan to get over someone… it felt almost right to do it that way.
“You want to get out of here?” The mystery guy asked seductively trying to keep you enticed with him.
You gave him a look before your eyes caught a group of men walking in together. Your blood ran cold, face turning pale as you seen the familiar dirty blonde locks and perfect smile of your ex-boyfriend. You took a chance to catch your breath when you moved your eyes over and caught Jamarr and Tee already noticing you. You had been close with a few of Joe’s teammates seeing as you were together for a bit.
Jamarr gave you a quick nod of greeting before avoiding your gaze and Tee flashed you his smile before heading to an area with the boys. “I have to go.” You told the mystery man before leaving towards your group of girls. You were hoping that you could convince your girls to leave and do this another night. Maybe you could fake sick and go home by uber, you weren’t sure what your whole plan was, but you knew something would have to go down to leave.
Once you reached your group of girls, who were either occupied with boys/girls or chatting with each other while drinking, you put on your best sick face. “Hey, I’m not feeling the best… I think it’s best if I uber home.”
Your hairdresser best friend gave you a saddened look believing the story that was being told. “Bullshit.” Y/BFF/N spoke up crossing her arms. “I noticed him walk in with his groupies.” She responded raising an eyebrow in your direction.
You shrugged not really caring if she noticed him, “I’m not in the mood to deal with this tonight.”
“Y/N, you are not leaving. I promised you that I would help you get over him and with that promise it means not letting you leave all because he came into this bar.” Your best friend stated. With her tone of voice, you knew it was pointless to even argue with her.
“Isn’t it weird that he showed up after you were fixing to go home with some guy?” Another one of the girls in your group spoke up.
“I was not going home with that guy.” You objected crossing your arms over yourself feeling a bit uncomfortable. “That’s not who I am.”
“Maybe that’s what you need for one night.” Another spoke up causing you to roll your eyes.
You shook your head in disbelief at your friends, “I’m getting another drink.” You mumbled before turning and making your way to the bar. Last call would be announced within the next fifteen minutes, and you were not waiting until then.
You could've stayed with the guys, acting like you didn't see me
It would've hurt a little less if you'd bought some girl a drink
but you had to walk up, messing me up
I'm drunk, wondering why it's gotta be like this
I thought I was moving on, but now I'm starting back over again.
After another drink and a shot, you had simply ordered a glass of red wine. You were already feeling the effects of the alcohol and you were worried that you would do something stupid if you ordered anything other than wine. Part of your friend group had gone home with whoever they had met here, no doubt going to have a fun night. Your best friend and one other girl were the only ones that were left of your group besides you.
“Can I get another round for our table back there?” His voice spoke up causing a chill to run down your back. You hadn’t heard that voice since the night that it ended. Without paying him any attention, you picked up your glass and took a drink of the crimson liquid. It was easier to pretend that he wasn’t there instead of trying to make everything weird. Joe seemed to have different plans, “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He mumbled as he sat down on the seat next to you.
“I was hoping I wouldn’t see you.” He would never admit it, but your reply felt like a knife. He knew that the whole breakup should had been dealt with sooner and talked about. If not to fix it, then to at least to make it less messy.
Joe chose to ignore your blunt reply as he waited on their final tray of drinks, “How have you been?” he asked carefully knowing that it hadn’t been easy for him. He would never admit that to you unless you asked him yourself.
“Why are you doing this?” You asked. Finally, you turned to face him noticing the stubble that adorned his face compared to his usual clean-shaven self. There was no point in answering his question because you had not felt your best since your last night with him. “You could have avoided me and let me heal.” You added taking another sip of win after.
Joe looked exhausted; anyone could tell. You had heard that they were currently not playing their best even if you refused to watch the games. You were his problem, not that he blamed you. He blew up for no reason, mainly due to stress and you felt as if it was a personal attack. “I didn’t mean what I said that night.” He told you. Even if you wanted him to leave you alone, he just knew he had to tell you what he felt after that night. “When you brought up my past… it never compared to us. She never meant as much to me as you did, I get that I was with her longer, but it wasn’t the same.”
You shrugged trying your best to act like you didn’t care. “I am not talking about this.” You shook your head before finishing off your glass of wine. “If we’re being honest, I shouldn’t have brought up Olivia, but that’s all I’m going to say.” You added before standing up from your seat. You needed to get back to your best friend before your body decided to fully give in to the handsome quarterback right next to you.
“Y/N don’t do this. Let me in and let’s talk about this.” Joe practically begged as he stood up quickly noticing that you were trying to make your escape. The look on your face was unreadable, why was Joe begging you to talk about it? What would it help and why was it such a big deal to him?
“Joe, you ended it. I don’t owe you anything.” You whispered as you pushed back tears not wanting them to surface. You were beginning to feel defeated because your heart and your body yearned for the man in front of you.
“Y/N… please.” He pleaded one last time in a whisper, in the same way that you had answered him. Before you could say anything, the bartender placed the tray of drinks down giving you the chance to get away from Joe before he could continue begging you and you gave in.
maybe you caught me on a bad night
maybe tomorrow I'll be just fine
maybe it's the red wine
that put you back in my mind
Final call had happened at 2:30, but the bar was still alive with drunk couples, singles, and others. Your best friend had told you that she was going home with the guy that she had been with all night, only she was staying with you until you wanted to leave. Truth be told, she was probably just trying to ensure that you would stay away from Joe the rest of the night.
“I’m going to the restroom and then I’ll head home.” You promised your best friend before pulling her into a hug.
Once you two pulled away she gave you a small smile, “want me to wait for you?” she offered.
You didn’t miss the eye roll from the guy that she was going home with. You internally scoffed and rolled your eyes at the guy who wanted inside your best friends pants before returning the smile, “No, I’ll be fine. Just be careful on your way home.”
Your bestie nodded before giving you a knowing look, “There’s plenty of people still here. I think you should reconsider what I told you earlier.” She added before locking arms with the guy beside her. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, “If you change your mind you have to let me know.” She teased before blowing a kiss and turned to head out with the man that she had met tonight.
You turned around and grabbed your wristlet before making your way towards the bathroom. In all seriousness you were more than ready to go home, you had been since your conversation with Joe. However, it still made Joe stay in your mind. Flashbacks from the relationship played over and over again. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, Joe Burrow was a huge green flag when you’re in a relationship with him. He may act cocky or arrogant sometimes, but most of the time it’s to hide how he is truly feeling.
Even if he was a green flag, you still argued some but it wasn’t often. The night you broke up was the only big fight that you had experienced in that relationship. Why did the relationship break after one fight? You just guessed that your relationship was not strong enough to last.
After you finished in the bathroom you exited (after washing your hands of course) and got on your phone so you could order an Uber for the ride home. You knew it was a bad idea for you girl’s to ride together, but no one disagreed and you weren’t going to be the first one to object.
“Really? 25 minutes.” You huffed as you leaned against the hallway leading to the bathroom. You wanted to be away from the crowds and try to catch a ride back to your place. “Why did I agree to do this tonight?” you mumbled placing your phone back in your pocket after seeing the wait time.
“Are you okay?” a familiar voice spoke up. You looked towards the dimly lit hallway and noticed the guy that you had been dancing with before Joe came in. You had been hoping that he had already went home because you didn’t want to see him again either. “I heard you huffing.” He mentioned with a half smile forming on his face.
You nodded assuring him that you were fine, “Yeah. Just waiting for my ride.” You lied knowing good and well that you didn’t order that Uber that was going to take almost half an hour.
He nodded, “I could take you home if you’re getting inpatient.” He offered hoping that you would accept his invite.
Your body was overcome with a feeling of dread when you looked into his eyes. You weren’t sure why, mainly because he had been a nice guy earlier. Thinking back, maybe you missed this feeling because of the alcohol and then the fact that you noticed your ex before you could process the guy in front of you.
You shook your head forcing a fake smile, “No it’s fine. My ride will be here very soon and I don’t want to leave them hanging.” You lied again in hopes that it was believable.
“Come on.” He urged walking closer and leaning against the wall next to you.
You opened your mouth to object before a voice beat you to it, “Babe, what’s taking so long?” Joe’s voice rang out down the hallway as footsteps were heard getting closer to you. The mental relief you felt hearing his voice was unreal. No matter how much you didn’t want to be around him, you always knew that you were safe with him.
“I was just talking to a friend.” You lied knowing that Joe could hear the hesitation in your voice and he definitely noticed your body language. Your body relaxed once you felt his familiar embrace around you.
“Babe?” The mystery guy from early asked glancing between the two. It was obvious that many people in Cincinatti knew who Joe was, the guy in front of you especially. “You should be aware that your girlfriend lead me on earlier.” He told Joe causing you to tense.
Joe’s grip around you tightened, probably not liking the chance of you going home with you before he got there. “Well, I’m sure whatever she was doing earlier was just for fun. No strings attached just innocent fun.” Joe muttered making sure to get his point across.
“Whatever.” The guy mumbled before eyeing you one more time before stepping around the two of you and leaving the hallway.
You let out a sigh of relief once he was officially out of hearing range, “Thank you.” you mumbled pulling yourself out of his arms. It didn’t take long for you to miss the feeling of him around you, it felt like home. It felt safe.
Joe shook his head, “Don’t thank me.” He replied noticing how you were calming down now that you were alone. “Was that the guy you were with when I got here?”
Even though Joe asked, you felt as if he already knew the answer. You just weren’t sure if it was from his comment or if he actually caught you. “How did you… Jamarr and Tee.” You sighed knowing that they told Joe about seeing you with him.
Joe shook his head, “I actually noticed you first.” He denied your allegations. “I made a comment about the guy you were with which is what made the guys notice you.” He shrugged acting like his comment meant nothing.
If you were honest, you felt giddy knowing that Joe was looking at you first before you even noticed him.
why'd you have to come back in right then
right when I was just getting good and gone?
guess I was in the wrong place at the wrong time
you must've heard I was moving on
then right out of the blue
a quarter past two, I'm all about you
when I was just about, just about over you.
I was just about over you.
You knew that you were going to regret this. It was the biggest mistake and was what your best friend was trying to get you over. The only thing was that you could not argue with how right it felt to be sitting in the passenger seat of Joe’s vehicle. You had accepted a ride home instead of ordering an Uber late, and it didn’t help that the mystery guy from the bar was lounging around almost like he was waiting to see if you were with Joe for real. After feeling uneasy noticing the guy looking at you while you went and visited with your old friends for a moment, Joe secretly proposed for you to stay with him for the night. Just to ensure that you were safe until daylight. Being unsure of the bar and going home alone, you agreed.
How did you get yourself in this situation though? You promised yourself that this would be the night that you got over Joe, however you felt as if all your progress was thrown out the window. You truly loved Joe and a part of you always would. He was the first person that you truly loved, which is why you knew apart of you would always belong to Joe. You were moving on the best you could, and you were sure that you could have gotten over him. Maybe there was a reason why it wasn’t tonight? Maybe it was protection from someone or something, but all you knew was that sitting in his car made it real that you would in no way be over him.
“Do you need anything?” He asked more than likely referring to medicine or water due to the alcohol consumption tonight. You shook your head feeling more sober than ever. The house was so familiar, and a warm feeling came over you being back in his home. “I’ll get you a change of clothes before we head to bed.” He mentioned shooting you a small smile before walking towards his room. The room you used to basically live in when you were together.
Without waiting for him to call you, you carefully made your way into his bedroom seeing him lay out the clothes on the bed. “Can I shower before we head to bed?” You asked softly hoping you wouldn’t scare him.
Joe nodded, “You don’t have to ask.” He mumbled picking up the clothes he sat on the bed and handed them to you.
You silently thanked him before heading to his private bathroom and locking the door behind you. You knew where he kept his towels and everything so there was no need to make him get everything ready for you. You let the water run for a moment to get warm before stripping your clothes and getting into the shower. You sighed feeling the heat soothing your tense muscles due to the stress you were under tonight. You were trying to rack your brain over every event that happened tonight before noticing the array of products in Joe’s shower caddy.
Everything you used sat untouched in the corner. Your shampoo, conditioner, exfoliating scrub, shaving items, body wash, and skincare. Everything that you had left here was sitting there looking untouched due to how little you had used them. You had just restocked before you two broke up, meaning that you never wanted to face him to get those items back. You just went out and bought new ones because it was easier… emotionally.
Instead of crying due to your relationship being over, you pushed it out of your mind and finished showering. You knew how Joe was, and he wouldn’t go to bed until you got out of the shower. Once doing your skincare and haircare, you got out and dried off and got dressed. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, noticing that Joe gave you his favorite shirt of his and a pair of bengals shorts that he had gotten you. You remember him saying, “If you’re going to be my girl, we might as well give you some gear.” You smiled at the memory before cleaning up the bathroom and heading out to Joe’s room.
You’d be lying if you said that seeing him lying on his bed in only shorts was a turn off. He was definitely the best-looking guy you have ever seen in your life, there was no doubt about it. The sound of your footsteps caused Joe to lock his phone and turn his attention towards you.
“Do you need anything before I head to the guest room?” He asked softly getting out of his bed. He waited to see if you needed anything because he knew that you usually had to rack your brain over your nighttime routine.
“You don’t have to go to your guest bed. I’m not taking your bed.” You refused even if you secretly wanted his bed. What could you say? It was so comfortable to the point to where you wanted it in your apartment. “I can sleep in the guest room.” You knew he would deny but it was worth a shot.
Joe refused, “You know I never let you sleep in the guest room.” He reminded even though she knew. She had practically moved in with him so when they argued, Joe would start the nights in the guest bed and weasel his way back into his bed with you. That’s just how the two of them were in their relationship.
Instead of playing the back-and-forth game you sat down on the bed and gestured for him to join you. “Can I ask what the real reason is that you are doing this?” You asked softly as you felt the bed dip with his weight, only he was sitting in front of you. “You don’t owe me anything, Joe.” You assured so he didn’t feel as though he owed a debt to you.
“I know.” He replied, “actually I do owe you an apology. I’m sorry about that night, I was stressed about the game, and I took it out on you.” He apologized.
You gave him a small smile in return, “I think we both said some things that we regret that night.” You whispered worried that everything would come crashing down.
“I love you, Y/N.” Joe admitted softly his hand coming up to your neck. “I’ll never stop no matter what happens.” He added in a whisper to not spook you too much.
You bet your lip trying to keep from tearing up at his words. For the last three months you had been wanting to hear those words come out of his mouth, yet it was surreal to actually hear them.
“I was trying so hard to get over you.” You whispered out, a crack in your voice that did not go unnoticed by Joe. “I still love you so much and it kills me every day.” You added full of emotion due to staring into the blue eyes that you loved so much.
Staring into Joe’s eyes, you felt the walls that you had built the last three months come falling down. You promised yourself that you would get over him and never fall back into his arms, yet you weren’t going to stop. You knew that even if you two never got back together officially that you would always be safe and have a home around Joe. Your heart would always be his no matter what.
Instead of overthinking and thinking of the worse possible outcomes, you decided to finally do what your heart and body have been craving. In one quick motion, you had your hands on the back of his neck and pushed your lips on his. It didn’t take him but a second to start kissing you back because it was clear that he had missed you all the same.
You sighed in content at the kiss, causing Joe to apply a bit of pressure to where his hand was resting on your neck. You could feel the want for him building up, wanting the two of you to make up for lost time. You were unsure of how far you would go but being in his arms, at least for one more night was something that you were okay with.
It was safe to say that you two did in fact make up for the lost time that was three months. You had texted your best friend telling her that you took her advice about going home with a “nice” guy from the club and that he was full of “green flags”. She was beyond excited wanting to know the details, which you would give her without letting her know that it was indeed your ex.
Joe woke up the next morning thinking everything would go back to normal. You two had talked a bit, had makeup sex, and even cuddled to sleep. He woke up to an opposing reality, which made him question if you were ever really there. You had left early, not knowing what it meant for you two. Not wanting to have another intimate conversation, you ran saving it for another day.
Joe’s clothes laying on the end of the bed told him that it wasn’t a dream. You were in fact with him last night and he wasn’t just lost in a drunken dream. Joe knew after last night; he would not be letting you go as easy as he did before. No matter how upset and angry he was, he was going to find you and make you his again. He was sure of it.
summary: You and Joe have been best friends since birth. Things happened that caused you to drift. When you found out something all you wanted was him. But Joe wasn't there, not fully.
warnings: teen pregnancy
a/n: Let me know if you guys would want to see more of this on here!
Y/N POV
People always say your senior year goes by fast. They never tell you it can end in a single second.
One second I was standing in the girls’ bathroom of Athens High School staring at a white stick with shaky hands, and the next I was trying to breathe around the fact that two pink lines had just changed the rest of my life.
Positive.
I blinked hard at it. Then again. Like maybe if I looked long enough the answer would change for me.
Outside the bathroom door, I could hear graduation chaos spilling through the halls. Teachers yelling directions. Girls fixing makeup. Parents arriving. Someone laughing too loudly.
The world kept moving. Mine stopped. I looked down at my phone again.
9:14 AM.
Graduation started in forty-six minutes and I was pregnant.
A horrible sound caught in my throat before I swallowed it down hard. My hands trembled so badly the test almost slipped from my fingers.
No. No no no.
This wasn’t supposed to happen to me. Not now. Not today. Not when everything already felt like it was falling apart.
I squeezed my eyes shut. And like my stupid heart always did when things hurt, it thought of Joe.
Joe would know what to say. Joe would tell me to breathe first. Joe would take the test out of my hands and say, “Okay, we’re gonna figure it out.”
Joe would sit on the bathroom counter like he had a hundred times before after football games or bad dates or panic attacks about college applications and make me laugh until I could think straight again.
Except Joe didn’t do that anymore.
Because Joe Burrow and I hadn’t really been Joe and Y/N in almost a year. And somehow that hurt even worse than the positive test in my hand.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. White graduation dress. Green cap sitting crooked on the counter. Mascara already smudging underneath my eyes.
I looked terrified. I looked seventeen. A memory hit me so hard it almost knocked the air out of me.
—
“C’mon, slowpoke!”
I shrieked as Joe grabbed my backpack and sprinted down the sidewalk with it.
“JOE!”
He laughed loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear, turning around while still running backward.
“You gotta be faster than that, sweetheart!”
I hated when he called me sweetheart. Mostly because I loved it.
I was twelve the first time I realized Joe Burrow would ruin my life someday.
Not in a dramatic way.
Not intentionally.
Just because loving him felt as natural as breathing, and I knew, even then, that boys like Joe never belonged entirely to one person.
Golden boy. Football star. Everybody’s favorite.
Meanwhile I was just me.
The girl next door.
Literally.
Our moms were best friends before we were born, which meant Joe had been in my life longer than I could remember.
There were baby pictures of us in matching pajamas.
Videos of toddler Joe pushing me down the driveway in a plastic car before crashing us both into a mailbox.
Every major memory I had somehow included him.
Middle school dances. Friday night football games. Driving around with the windows down during the summer. Late-night phone calls that lasted until one of us fell asleep.
People spent years asking if we were dating.
We always laughed.
“Ew, no.”
“Joe’s annoying.”
“Y/N wishes.”
“Shut up.”
But somewhere between freshman and junior year, the joke stopped being funny because suddenly Joe looked at me too long sometimes and suddenly my stomach flipped every time he touched me. And suddenly everyone else noticed too.
“Dude,” one of his teammates had said sophomore year, “just date already.”
Joe had grinned.
“You think she could handle me?”
I rolled my eyes dramatically.
“Absolutely not.”
But later that night he drove me home with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the center console between us, fingers barely brushing mine every few minutes like he couldn’t help himself.
Neither of us said anything about it.
That was the problem.
We never said anything. We just existed in this weird almost. Almost touching, almost confessing, almost choosing each other. Until I got tired of almost.
A knock slammed against the bathroom door, yanking me back into the present.
“Y/N?” my mom called. “Honey, are you okay?”
I shoved the pregnancy test deep into my purse so fast I nearly dropped it.
“Yeah!”
My voice cracked horribly. I cleared my throat.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m coming.”
I stared at myself one last time before opening the door. My mom’s smile immediately faded.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
Moms know everything.
“What happened?”
I shook my head quickly.
“If I start crying, I’m not gonna stop.”
Her face softened instantly, arms wrapping around me before I could stop her and that almost did it.
I buried my face into her shoulder, trying desperately to keep myself together while the edges of my vision blurred.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered.
“Yes, you can.”
“You don’t understand.”
She pulled back enough to look at me.
And suddenly I wondered if she did understand.
If she already knew.
The thought made panic spike through me.
But before she could say anything else, Principal Harris’s voice echoed through the hallway telling graduates to line up.
My mom brushed tears from under my eyes carefully.
“One step at a time, okay?”
One step at a time. I nodded even though I didn’t believe it. The football field was already packed when we walked outside.
Green and white decorations covered the bleachers. Families filled the stands holding flowers and cameras. Teachers tried desperately to organize us while everyone ignored them completely.
Normal.
Everything looked painfully normal.
Then I saw him.
Joe stood near the front of the line in his graduation gown, laughing at something one of his friends said.
And for one horrible second, everything inside me still reacted to him.
The stupid nervous flutter. The comfort. The ache.
He looked bigger than the last time we’d really spoken. Broader shoulders. Sharper jaw. More serious somehow.
Ohio had already changed him and he hadn’t even left yet. Like he already belonged somewhere bigger than this town. Like maybe he’d outgrown me before I even realized it.
As if sensing me staring, Joe turned.
Our eyes met.
And the entire world went silent.
God.
It still hurt.
His smile disappeared almost instantly. Not cold exactly. Just cautious. Careful. Like we were strangers pretending not to remember each other.
I hated it. I hated him for it. I hated myself more because even now, all I wanted was to run to him. Tell him everything.
Tell him I was scared.
Tell him Matt left three weeks ago after another screaming fight about him.
Tell him I hadn’t heard from Matt since.
Tell him I was pregnant.
Tell him I didn’t know what to do.
Joe shifted like he might walk over.
Then Matt’s name flashed across my phone screen.
My stomach dropped. I declined the call immediately. But when I looked back up, Joe had seen it. The tiny shift in his expression nearly killed me.
There it was.
Distance.
Hurt.
Resignation.
Like he’d finally accepted that I chose someone else.
Except it had never been that simple.
Matt had loved me loudly.
Joe loved me quietly.
And quiet love can make you starve.
The ceremony started in a blur after that. Names. Applause. Sweaty hands. My heartbeat pounding so loudly I thought people around me could hear it.
I don’t remember walking across the stage. I barely remember getting my diploma.
All I remember is gripping the edge of my chair while panic crawled up my throat because all I could think was:
I’m going to have a baby.
And somehow the only person I wanted beside me was the boy who wasn’t mine anymore.
After the ceremony ended, everyone exploded into celebration around us. Parents cried. Friends screamed. Caps flew into the air.
I stood frozen in the middle of it all.
Then suddenly Joe was there. Close enough that I could smell his cologne and summer air and familiarity. Close enough that my heart remembered him immediately.
“Hey,” he said softly.
I forgot how to breathe.
Nobody in the world said hey like Joe Burrow.
Careful.
Warm.
Like the word meant more coming from him.
I swallowed hard. “Hey.”
For a second neither of us spoke. His eyes searched my face like he was trying to solve something.
“You okay?”
And that almost made me laugh. Because no. No, I wasn’t okay. Not even a little. But before I could answer, somebody shouted Joe’s name from across the field, teammates, family friends, people wanting pictures, wanting him, always wanting pieces of him.
His attention flickered away for just one second. One second and maybe if I’d been braver, I would’ve told him then.
Joe, wait.
Joe, I need you.
Joe, I’m pregnant.
But fear glued my mouth shut.
And maybe part of me already knew this was the beginning of losing him for real.
He looked back at me.
“You’ll call me later?”
The question sat between us.
Dangerous.
Hopeful.
My throat tightened.
Because we both knew I probably wouldn’t.
Not after months of drifting.
Not after Matt.
Not after all the things we never said.
Still, I nodded.
“Yeah.”
Joe smiled a little at that.
Small.
Relieved.
God, I loved him.
I loved him so much it made me feel sick.
Then someone grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away into the crowd.
And I stood there alone on the football field watching the boy I’d loved my entire life disappear from me for the first time.
summary: it's draft day!! You're life long best friend, Fernando, has something else on his mind
warnings: none!
I think I stop breathing the moment they call his name.
“Fernando Mendoza-”
Everything after that turns into noise.
The room explodes, cheers, clapping, people standing, cameras flashing, but all I can see is him.
Fernando.
For a second, he just sits there like it hasn’t fully hit him yet. Like he’s still processing the fact that everything he’s worked for, every early morning, every late night, every sacrifice, is finally real.
Then he turns and looks straight at me. Out of everyone in the room. My heart stutters. I’m already crying before I even realize it.
“Go!” I laugh through it, shoving his arm. “Fernando, go!”
That’s what breaks him out of it.
He grins, wide, bright, him, and stands, pulling me up with him without even thinking. His arms wrap around me tight, lifting me slightly off the ground like he always does when he’s overwhelmed.
“You did it,” I whisper into his shoulder.
“We did it,” he says immediately.
My chest aches.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his hands still on my arms like he needs to make sure I’m actually there.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, breathless.
“Yeah,” I nod, wiping at my cheeks, smiling so hard it almost hurts. “Go be famous.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh, then finally lets go.
And I let him.
I watch him walk up to the stage, shaking hands, putting on the cap, holding up the jersey. He looks unreal. Like he’s stepped into a version of his life that was always waiting for him.
And somehow, I’ve been there for all of it.
Every step, every almost, every doubt.
—
We met when we were kids.
He was loud, annoying, too confident for someone who couldn’t even keep his room clean. I was the one who told him he’d never make it to the league if he didn’t stop skipping workouts.
He told me I talked too much.
I told him he needed me.
He said, “Yeah, probably.”
And that was it.
Best friends.
Just like that.
I was there for his first real game. The first time he got scouted. The nights he thought he wasn’t good enough. The nights he knew he was.
He was there for everything, too. Every stupid decision I made, every dream I changed my mind about, every moment I didn’t believe in myself.
It was always us.
Just not like this, never like this.
—
The event blurs by after that.
Interviews. Pictures. People pulling him in every direction.
I stay close, but not too close. Close enough that he can find me if he looks, but far enough that this moment can be his.
It should be his.
Still, every time our eyes meet across the room, something in my chest twists.
Because he looks at me the same way he did when they called his name.
Like I’m part of this.
Like I matter more than everything else happening around him and I don’t know what to do with that.
It’s late by the time we finally get a second alone.
The party is still going inside, music, laughter, people celebrating, but I needed air.
So I slipped outside. I didn’t think he’d notice. I should’ve known better.
“You always disappear,” his voice comes from behind me.
I smile before I even turn around.
“You always find me,” I reply.
Fernando’s tie is loose now, jacket gone, sleeves rolled up. He looks less like the polished version from the stage and more like the boy I’ve always known.
Just happier, brighter. He walks over, stopping right in front of me.
For a second, neither of us says anything. The city lights stretch out behind him, but I barely notice.
“Hey,” I say softly.
“Hey,” he echoes.
“I’m really proud of you,” I add, because it’s the safest thing I can say. “Like ridiculously proud.”
His expression softens.
“You’ve said that like ten times tonight.”
“I’ll say it ten more.”
“I know you will,” he smiles.
Silence again. Not awkward. Just heavy. Full of something I don’t want to name.
“You stayed,” he says after a moment.
I blink. “Of course I did. Where else would I go?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs slightly. “People leave when things change.”
My chest tightens.
“I’m not people,” I say quietly.
“I know,” he says, stepping closer. “That’s the problem.”
My breath catches.
“What does that mean?”
He exhales, running a hand through his hair, suddenly nervous in a way I’ve never seen before.
Fernando Mendoza, nervous. That alone is enough to make my heart race.
“It means…” he starts, then stops. Laughs softly, shaking his head. “This is not how I planned to say any of this.”
“Say what?” I ask, barely above a whisper.
His eyes meet mine and everything else fades away.
“I’ve been in love with you for years.”
The world stops, actually stops. Like everything just freezes around us. I stare at him, waiting for him to take it back. To laugh. To say he’s joking.
He doesn’t.
“You… what?” I manage.
“I know,” he says quickly, like he’s been holding this in forever and it’s all spilling out now. “I know the timing is insane, and I should’ve said something sooner, and I didn’t want to mess things up and-”
“Fernando,” I interrupt, my voice shaking.
He goes quiet instantly.
“You’re serious?”
He looks almost offended. “Yes, I’m serious.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Since when?” I ask.
He huffs out a small laugh, glancing away for a second before looking back at me.
“Since you showed up to my game in the rain when we were fifteen,” he says. “You were soaking wet, yelling at the ref like he personally offended you.”
I blink, stunned.
“That’s when you?”
“That’s when I realized it,” he corrects softly. “I think it was always there.”
My heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask.
“Because I didn’t want to lose you,” he admits. “You’re… everything to me. If I messed this up, if I made things weird, I couldn’t risk you not being in my life anymore.”
My eyes sting.
“You wouldn’t have lost me,” I whisper.
“I didn’t know that,” he says. “And I wasn’t willing to find out.”
There’s a pause. A big one.
The kind where everything could change depending on what I say next.
“What if I told you…” I start, my voice trembling despite myself, “that I’ve been in love with you too?”
He freezes.
“Don’t,” he says quietly, like he’s scared I’m joking.
“I’m serious,” I say, stepping closer. “I just, I didn’t think you felt the same. You never said anything, and I didn’t want to ruin what we had, so I just… kept it to myself.”
His eyes search mine, like he’s trying to find any hint that I’m lying. He won’t.
Because I’m not.
“Say that again,” he murmurs.
“I’m in love with you,” I repeat, softer this time. “I think I always have been.”
That’s all it takes. His hands come up to my face, not rough, not rushed, just sure.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, like he still needs permission, like this isn’t something he’s wanted forever.
I laugh softly, tears slipping down my cheeks.
“You really picked now to ask for permission?”
“Y/N,” he says, half smiling, half desperate.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.”
And then he kisses me.
And it’s… God. It’s everything.
Soft, at first. Careful. Like he’s afraid I might disappear if he moves too fast, but then I kiss him back, and something shifts.
Years of almosts, of stolen glances, of feelings we never said out loud, they all crash into this one moment.
His hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. Mine grip the front of his shirt, grounding myself because everything else feels like it’s spinning.
When we finally pull apart, we’re both a little breathless. A little stunned. He rests his forehead against mine, smiling in that quiet, disbelieving way.
“Hi,” he murmurs.
I laugh softly. “Hi.”
“We’re really doing this?” he asks.
“We’re really doing this,” I confirm.
He exhales like something heavy has finally lifted off his chest.
“Good,” he says. “Because I don’t think I could go back to pretending after that.”
“Yeah,” I smile. “Me neither.”
From inside, the music gets louder, someone shouting his name. He groans slightly, not moving away from me.
“They’re going to come looking for you,” I point out.
“Let them,” he mutters.
I grin. “Fernando Mendoza, ditching his own celebration?”
“I just got everything I wanted,” he says, opening his eyes to look at me. “I think I’m allowed a minute.”
My heart melts.
“Your team might disagree.”
“They can wait,” he says simply.
I shake my head, smiling.
“You should go back in,” I say gently. “This is your night.”
He studies me for a second.
“Come with me,” he says.
“I’ve been with you all night.”
“Yeah,” he nods. “But now it’s different.”
My stomach flips.
“Okay,” I say.
He takes my hand, intertwining our fingers like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like it’s always been this way and maybe, in a way, it has. As we walk back inside together, I squeeze his hand lightly.
“Hey, Fernando?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m really proud of you.”
He smiles, glancing over at me.
“I know,” he says. “You’ve told me like eleven times.”
“I’m going to say it eleven more.”
“I know you will.”
And this time, when he looks at me it’s not just like I’m part of his world.
It’s like I am his world.
And for the first time, I don’t wonder what it would be like.
summary: You and Joe have been best friends since birth. Things happened that caused you to drift. When you found out something all you wanted was him. But Joe wasn't there, not fully.
warnings: teen pregnancy
chapter 1
Y/N POV
By the time graduation ended, my cheeks hurt from fake smiling. Pictures blurred together after a while. My mom hugging me too tightly. My dad pretending not to cry.
Girls I’d known since kindergarten screaming about college and dorm rooms and football games and futures that still felt exciting to them.
I stood in the middle of all of it feeling like I was underwater. Every sound muffled. Every touch distant. Every few seconds my hand drifted toward my purse where the pregnancy test still sat hidden at the bottom. Like it might disappear if I stopped checking.
Matt still hadn’t texted again.
Not after the single phone call Joe saw.
Not after weeks of silence.
Typical.
“Y/N!”
I forced myself to look up as Savannah nearly tackled me in a hug.
“Oh my God, we graduated!”
I laughed weakly. “Apparently.”
“You sound thrilled.”
“I’m tired.”
That part wasn’t even a lie. I felt exhausted all the way down to my bones. Savannah pulled back slightly, studying me.
“You okay?”
That question again. The terrifying thing was I didn’t know how to answer it anymore.
Because technically?
No.
Emotionally?
Absolutely not.
Physically?
I thought I might throw up.
But instead I smiled again because apparently that was all I knew how to do lately.
“I’m fine.”
She gave me the kind of look that said she didn’t believe me for a second, but before she could push further, somebody called her name from across the field.
“Text me later!” she shouted.
I nodded. I wouldn’t.
My phone buzzed in my hand. My heart reacted before my brain even processed why.
Joe.
Just seeing his name still did something awful to me.
Joe 🤍
I should’ve changed the contact months ago.
Instead I stared at it until the screen dimmed.
Then lit up again.
Joe 🤍
you disappeared
My throat tightened.
There were hundreds of people around me, but suddenly all I could picture was him standing in front of me earlier.
“You okay?”
Soft eyes. Careful voice. Like he still cared despite everything.
I typed out three different responses before deleting all of them.
Finally:
sorry. family stuff
The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.
Joe 🤍 you sure?
And there it was.
The dangerous thing about Joe Burrow.
He noticed. He always noticed if my smile looked forced, if my voice sounded off, if I got too quiet.
He noticed every tiny thing about me and somehow that only made losing him hurt worse.
Because if he knew me that well, how had we ended up here?
—
Matt hated Joe long before he ever admitted it.
At first it came out in little comments.
“Does he seriously have to call you every night?”
Or
“You know it’s kinda weird how attached you two are, right?”
I always defended Joe automatically because defending Joe felt as natural as breathing.
“He’s my best friend.”
Matt would laugh like that explained nothing.
Because honestly?
It didn’t.
Not really.
Not when Joe knew my coffee order by memory, not when he climbed through my bedroom window after bad fights with my parents, not when he reached for my hand without thinking, not when everyone in town looked at us like we were inevitable.
I think Matt realized before either of us did that Joe and I were never just friends.
We were something unfinished and unfinished things drive people crazy.
The worst fight happened three weeks before graduation.
“You love him.”
Matt’s voice echoed through my car while rain slammed against the windshield.
I gripped the steering wheel harder. “Can you stop saying that?”
“Why? Because it’s true?”
“It’s not-”
“Y/N.” He laughed bitterly. “You look at him like he hung the damn moon.”
I looked away first.
Which was answer enough.
Matt shook his head slowly like he couldn’t believe he’d stayed this long.
“You already have a boyfriend. You just won’t admit it.”
The words sliced straight through me because part of me feared he was right.
Not about dating Joe.
But about belonging to him in some horrible emotional way I couldn’t escape.
“I’m with you,” I whispered.
Matt looked at me for a long second. Then quietly said the one thing I think he’d been holding in for months.
“Only because Joe never asked you to stay.”
That was the last real conversation we had before he left.
—
By the time I finally got home from graduation, the sun had started setting. My graduation cap landed on my bedroom floor the second I walked inside. Then my heels. Then I just sat.
The room looked exactly the same.
Twinkle lights. Pictures taped to my mirror. An old photo booth strip of me and Joe shoved into the corner of the frame. I stared at it too long.
We were sixteen in the picture.
Joe’s arm slung around my shoulders, my head thrown back laughing, his eyes already looking at me like I was something precious.
God.
I couldn’t do this. Tears burned suddenly and violently behind my eyes. I grabbed my pillow and pressed it against my face to muffle the sound that came out of me. Because everything hurt at once.
Matt leaving.
The baby.
Joe.
The future.
The unbearable loneliness of realizing the person you wanted most no longer belonged to you.
My phone buzzed again beside me.
Joe 🤍
call me when you get home
Fresh tears slipped down my cheeks immediately. I hated that he could still undo me this easily. I stared at the message for nearly five minutes before pressing call.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Then:
“Hey.”
His voice.
Low and warm and familiar.
And suddenly I was crying harder because home had always sounded a little like Joe.
“You okay?” he asked immediately.
I covered my mouth with my hand.
“Yeah.”
“You’re crying.”
Of course he knew.
“It’s graduation,” I lied weakly.
Joe was quiet for a second.
“You wanna talk about it?”
Yes.
God, yes.
I wanted to tell him everything.
I wanted to say:
Joe, I’m terrified.
Joe, Matt left.
Joe, I’m pregnant.
Joe, please don’t leave too.
But the words sat trapped behind my ribs.
Because what if he looked at me differently after this?
What if he pitied me?
What if he regretted ever loving me at all?
The silence stretched too long.
Then Joe exhaled softly.
“Did I do something?”
That nearly broke me completely.
“No.”
“You’ve been pulling away for months.”
His voice stayed calm, but I heard the hurt underneath it.
“I just… I don’t know where I stand with you anymore.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Neither did I.
“Joe-”
Someone shouted his name in the background.
Laughter erupted near him. Probably friends. Family. People celebrating him.
“You at your party?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah.”
I could hear the smile in his voice. “Mom invited like half the town.”
For a second I pictured it perfectly.
The Burrow backyard. String lights. Music. His dad grilling burgers. Everybody orbiting around Joe like they always did.
He deserved that happiness. He deserved a future untouched by the mess of mine.
“You should be here,” he said suddenly.
My breath caught.
“I’m serious.”
His voice softened.
“It feels weird without you.”
That did it. A sob escaped before I could stop it.
“Y/N?”
“I have to go.”
“What? Wait-”
“I’ll talk to you later.”
“Y/N.”
The way he said my name made me almost stay. Almost tell him. Almost choose him. But fear won again.
“I’m sorry.”
Then I hung up. The silence afterward felt unbearable. I stared at my ceiling while tears slid into my hairline.
Then suddenly I was moving. Keys. Sweatshirt. Car.
I didn’t even fully decide to go before I was already driving toward Joe’s house.
The roads were mostly empty now.
Summer air drifted through the cracked windows while my heartbeat pounded violently against my ribs.
I could still turn around.
I probably should.
Instead I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and kept driving. Because maybe Joe deserved to know.
Maybe if there was one person in the world who could help me survive this, it was him.
Maybe some stupid part of me still believed he’d say:
Okay. We’ll figure it out.
The closer I got to his house, the harder it became to breathe.
Cars lined the street.
Music echoed through the neighborhood.
Lights glowed warmly from the backyard.
And there he was.
Joe stood near the fence laughing while people crowded around him. His mom hugged relatives. His dad talked football with somebody near the grill. Kids ran through the yard.
Everything looked bright. Happy. Alive.
Joe looked alive.
And suddenly I felt completely outside of it.
Like I was standing on the edge of a future that no longer had room for me.
Then Joe threw his head back laughing at something someone said, and the sight nearly destroyed me because I realized something awful.
His life was just beginning.
Mine felt like it had ended that morning in a school bathroom. My hands started shaking again. I could do this. I could walk up there, pull him aside, and tell him everything.
But then what?
He was leaving for college. Football was about to become his entire world. And me?
I was the girl carrying another guy’s baby.
Tears blurred my vision as reality settled heavy in my chest. This wasn’t the right time.
Maybe there would never be a right time.
I watched him for one more second.
Then I put the car in reverse.
And drove away before Joe ever knew I’d been there at all.
The question hit harder than I expected. Not because of what he asked but because of what it meant.
Joe still thought Matt stayed. Still thought I had someone. Still thought there had been another person beside me through all of this.
My throat tightened painfully.
Aurora shifted sleepily against my shoulder while silence stretched between us.
Joe watched me carefully now. Like he already knew he wasn’t going to like the answer.
I looked down at Aurora instead of him.
“No,” I said quietly.
Joe frowned slightly.
“No?”
I swallowed hard.
“He left.”
The hallway went completely silent. Not the normal kind of silence either. The heavy kind. The kind where you can physically feel another person processing what you just said.
Joe stared at me.
“He left?” he repeated slowly.
I nodded once.
“When I told him I was pregnant.”
The words sounded strangely emotionless coming out now. Maybe because I’d carried them alone for so long they stopped feeling sharp.
But Joe looked wrecked.
Actually wrecked.
“What?” he said quietly.
My chest tightened.
I hated this part. Hated saying it out loud because somehow it always made seventeen-year-old me come rushing back. Terrified. Heartbroken. Standing in a bathroom staring at two pink lines while the entire world collapsed around her.
“He said he wasn’t ready,” I whispered. “Then he stopped answering.”
Joe physically looked away for a second. Like hearing that hurt him.
Good. It should.
Not because I wanted him in pain.
But because I’d spent years carrying this alone while he thought I chose someone else over him.
“I tried calling him for weeks,” I admitted softly. “Eventually I stopped.”
Joe’s jaw tightened visibly.
And suddenly I remembered, Joe never liked Matt.
Not even a little.
At seventeen it used to drive me insane.
Now?
Now I understood why.
“He just…” Joe stopped himself abruptly, running a hand over his face. “He left you alone?”
I laughed softly. Not because it was funny. Because sometimes there wasn’t another response.
“Pretty much.”
Joe stared at Aurora sleeping against my shoulder again. Something shifted in his face.
Anger maybe.
Grief.
I couldn’t tell.
“What about your parents?” he asked quietly.
“My mom helped when she could. My dad wasn’t exactly thrilled.”
Joe looked like he wanted to say something.
The hallway lights suddenly felt too bright. Too exposing.
I adjusted Aurora higher against my shoulder gently.
“She’s heavy when she falls asleep,” I murmured absentmindedly.
Joe immediately stepped forward.
“Here-”
His hands stopped halfway. Like he forgot he didn’t have the right anymore.
My chest physically ached watching it happen.
“I got her,” I whispered softly.
Joe nodded once and stepped back again.
The distance between us suddenly felt enormous. Five years of missed things sat there now. First words, birthdays, tiny football jerseys, nightmares, first steps.
Joe missed all of it and somehow I could see him realizing that in real time.
“She’s really four?” he asked again quietly.
I nodded.
“Turned four in March.”
Joe swallowed hard.
The math was getting louder now. I could practically hear it. Graduation. Pregnancy. Timing.
His eyes lifted back to mine slowly. And for one horrible second I thought he finally figured it out.
But instead he asked quietly,
“How’d you do it?”
The question caught me completely off guard.
“What?”
“All of it.”
His voice sounded rough now.
Careful.
“You were in college. Working. Raising a kid alone.” He shook his head slightly. “How the hell did you do that?”
Something inside my chest cracked a little. Because nobody ever really asked that. People praised me. Admired me. Called me strong.
But nobody asked what it actually cost.
“There wasn’t really another option,” I admitted softly.
Joe’s face tightened immediately.
“I used to bring her to classes sometimes when babysitters canceled.” I laughed weakly. “She basically grew up on campus.”
Joe looked devastated.
“She had this tiny pair of headphones because she hated loud lecture halls.” I smiled faintly at the memory. “One of my professors used to hold her during exams.”
His eyes stayed glued to me. Not interrupting. Just listening. And suddenly I realized something awful, Joe would’ve listened to every single story if he’d been there.
Every little thing.
He would’ve wanted all of it.
The realization hurt so badly I almost stopped talking altogether.
“She started walking during finals week sophomore year,” I whispered before I could stop myself. “Right in the middle of my apartment.”
Joe blinked slowly.
“You missed it?”
I nodded once.
“Came back from an exam and my mom was crying because apparently Aurora took three steps toward the couch.”
My voice cracked slightly at the end.
Joe’s expression completely shattered.
“Y/N…”
I looked away immediately. Nope. Absolutely not.
I was not crying in the Bengals hallway over memories from four years ago.
“She’s worth it,” I said quickly. “Every hard part. Every terrifying part. She’s worth it.”
Joe stared at me for a long moment.
Then quietly,
“I know.”
The words hit me directly in the chest. Because he said it like he already understood her. Like one day around Aurora was enough to matter.
My throat tightened painfully.
“She talks a lot,” I muttered weakly.
Joe laughed softly under his breath.
“Yeah. I noticed.”
“And she’s obsessed with football.”
“That definitely sounds familiar.”
I looked at him then. Really looked at him.
And suddenly there it was again, that terrifying feeling.
Like this could’ve been ours. Not biologically. Not technically.
But emotionally?
Joe had always been the person I imagined beside me. Every time Aurora learned something new. Every birthday candle. Every football game.
Some part of me always pictured Joe there before I could stop myself. Maybe that was the cruelest part.
Not losing him.
Losing the future I accidentally built around him too.
Joe leaned back against the wall quietly.
“She seems happy.”
The softness in his voice almost ruined me.
“She is.”
“And you?”
I blinked.
“What?”
“Are you happy?”
The question settled heavily between us. Because the answer wasn’t simple. Yes. Mostly. Sometimes.
I loved my daughter more than life itself, love my job, love the little life we built in Cincinnati. But there had always been this missing piece sitting quietly underneath everything.
And unfortunately?
He was currently standing in front of me.
“I’m tired,” I admitted softly.
Joe’s expression tightened instantly.
“But happy,” I added quickly.
He nodded slowly.
“I would’ve answered.”
The words hit like a punch to the chest. I froze completely. Joe looked down at the floor briefly before speaking again.
“If I knew,” he said quietly, “I would’ve answered every time.”
My throat closed immediately.
Because suddenly I was seventeen again. Crying in bed. Calling Joe over and over after Matt disappeared. Listening to voicemail after voicemail.
You never answered either. But he didn’t know that.
Did he?
My heart started pounding painfully.
“Joe…”
He looked back up at me. Blue eyes tired. Honest. Completely wrecking me.
“I thought you chose him,” he admitted.
There it was. The misunderstanding. Five years of silence built on two completely different heartbreaks.
“I didn’t,” I whispered immediately.
Too fast. Too honest.
Joe’s breath caught slightly.
“I never chose him over you.”
Silence. Heavy. Breathless silence.
Aurora shifted sleepily again between us, grounding the moment before it completely spiraled out of control.
Joe stared at me like he didn’t know what to do with that confession.
Honestly?
Neither did I. Before either of us could speak again, footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Zac.
“There you two are,” he said casually before immediately stopping mid-step.
His eyes flicked between us once. Then to my face. Then Joe’s.
“Oh,” he muttered. “This feels emotionally devastating.”
I laughed weakly despite myself. Joe looked like he wanted to kill him.
“Anyway,” Zac continued carefully, “parking lot’s getting locked soon.”
Right.
Real life.
I adjusted Aurora against my shoulder again.
“I should go.”
Joe nodded slowly but didn’t move. Didn’t look away either.
Like he still hadn’t fully processed any of this.
Honestly?
Neither had I.
I started walking past him toward the exit.
Then paused.
Because suddenly something felt unfinished again.
I turned back slightly.
Joe was still standing exactly where I left him. Watching me. Always watching me.
“Joe?”
His eyes lifted immediately. And for one terrifying second, he looked hopeful. God.
That alone almost ruined me.
“Yeah?”
I swallowed hard.
Then quietly,
“You could’ve answered too.”
The words landed between us softly. Not angry. Not cruel.
Just true.
Joe’s expression cracked instantly.
And for the first time since he came back into my life, I think he finally understood how much losing each other destroyed both of us.
I didn’t sleep. At all. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her.
Y/N standing in that hallway with Aurora asleep against her shoulder. The exhausted look in her eyes when she talked about college. The tiny crack in her voice when she admitted she missed Aurora’s first steps because she was taking an exam.
And worst of all?
“I never chose him over you.”
That sentence replayed in my head like a song I couldn’t shut off. Because for five years I’d convinced myself of something completely different.
I told myself she picked Matt. I told myself she stopped caring. I told myself she moved on and I was the idiot who couldn’t.
But now?
Now all I could think about was the possibility that she spent all those years hurting too. That maybe we ruined ourselves over a misunderstanding.
I rolled over for what had to be the hundredth time and checked the clock.
5:11 a.m.
Perfect. I stared at the ceiling of my apartment for another minute before finally sitting up. There was no point pretending sleep was still happening. Not after yesterday. Not after Aurora.
Not after the look on Y/N’s face when she said,
“You could’ve answered too.”
God. That one hurt. Because she was right. I should’ve answered. I should’ve called. I should’ve shown up.
Instead I spent years nursing my own heartbreak like it justified disappearing.
And meanwhile?
She was raising a child alone.
I dragged both hands down my face hard before standing up. Workout. Film. Anything. Anything besides sitting in my apartment spiraling over the girl I never actually stopped loving.
—
The Bengals facility was quiet that early.
A few trainers walked through the hallways carrying coffee. Someone in the gym blasted music low enough to echo through the walls. The smell of coffee and fresh turf somehow already filled the building.
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my hoodie while walking toward the training room.
And honestly?
I almost felt normal.
For maybe thirty seconds.
Then-
“PRETTY FOOTBALL GUY!”
I stopped walking immediately.
And before I could even react, a tiny blur in Bengals sneakers sprinted directly toward me.
Aurora crashed into my legs dramatically.
I laughed automatically while crouching down.
“Well good morning to you too.”
She grinned at me.
“You’re here early.”
“So are you.”
“That means we’re both professional.”
I snorted.
“Yeah. I think that’s exactly what that means.”
Aurora nodded seriously like we’d just concluded important business.
God.
She was funny. Just like Y/N. And somehow that made this harder. Because every second around her made it easier to picture things I absolutely should not have been picturing. Like what it would’ve been like to know her from the beginning.
Dangerous thought. Very dangerous thought.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked.
“Mommy had a meeting.”
She held up a coloring page proudly.
“So Zac said I could stay in the media room.”
I studied the page carefully.
It was mostly orange scribbles and footballs.
“…Is that me?”
“That’s your hair.”
“I’m honored.”
“You look weird though.”
I barked out a laugh.
“Okay. That was aggressive.”
Aurora shrugged unapologetically. And before I could answer, footsteps echoed down the hallway.
I looked up automatically.
Y/N.
And for a second my entire chest tightened. Because she looked soft this morning.
Oversized gray sweatshirt. Messy ponytail. No makeup except exhaustion sitting beneath her eyes.
Real. Not guarded. Not professional. Not pretending. Just her.
Aurora pointed dramatically.
“I found him.”
Y/N looked between us and sighed like she already knew this would happen.
“I can see that.”
But then her eyes met mine. And there it was again. That feeling. Like every single room somehow changed when we looked at each other.
“You look tired,” she said softly.
I leaned back against the wall.
“So do you.”
“Yeah well.” She adjusted the coffee tray in her hands. “Some people answer emotionally devastating questions at eleven p.m.”
I winced immediately. Fair. Aurora looked between us suspiciously.
“You both look ugly tired.”
I laughed so hard I nearly choked.
Y/N gasped dramatically.
“Aurora Grace!”
“What?”
“That was mean.”
Aurora looked confused.
“But true.”
I covered my mouth trying to stop laughing while Y/N glared at her daughter in betrayal. And suddenly something awful happened.
It felt normal. Not forced. Not awkward. Just natural. Like I’d always been here.
Which scared the hell out of me. Because people weren’t supposed to fit back into your life this easily after five years.
Right?
—
Y/N POV
I should’ve been more nervous. That was the terrifying part. Seeing Joe with Aurora should’ve felt awkward. Uncomfortable. Strange.
Instead?
It felt dangerously easy.
Like some stupid buried part of my brain had already accepted him into our life without asking permission.
And honestly?
That thought alone almost sent me into cardiac arrest.
I sat across the media room trying very hard to focus on editing while Aurora and Joe talked behind me. Trying being the key word.
Because every thirty seconds one of them would say something ridiculous.
“You made his arms too long.”
“He throws footballs for work.”
“That doesn’t mean his arms are noodles.”
I bit back a laugh.
Joe looked over immediately. And there it was again.
That look. The same one he used to give me in high school whenever he made me laugh. Like hearing it mattered to him.
Everything about this was dangerous.
“You’re staring again,” I muttered without looking up.
“I’m literally sitting across from you.”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
I heard the smile in his voice immediately.
“You used to like when I stared at you.”
My fingers froze over the keyboard. Heat rushed into my face instantly. Aurora looked between us curiously.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” both of us answered immediately.
Joe laughed softly under his breath. And I hated how familiar the sound still felt. I finally risked looking up.
Big mistake. Because Joe was smiling. Not the media smile. Not the practiced one. A real one. The same smile that used to absolutely ruin my life at seventeen.
And somehow it still did.
—
Joe was unbelievably good with Aurora. Not awkward. Not trying too hard. Just natural.
Like when she asked him to help color football plays, he immediately sat cross-legged on the floor beside her without hesitation.
Like when she complained about a marker drying out, he automatically got up to find another one.
Like when she started rambling about mascots, he listened like it was the most important conversation he’d ever had. And every single second of it emotionally destroyed me.
Because this, this exact thing, was what I spent years trying not to imagine.
Joe beside us. Joe in our life. Joe fitting.
He fit too easily.
And honestly?
That was the scariest part.
I watched him crouch beside Aurora while she showed him another drawing.
“This is us.”
Joe studied the paper carefully.
Three stick figures.
One tall. One medium. One tiny.
I stopped breathing immediately.
“That’s Mommy.”
Joe pointed carefully at the second figure.
“And this one?”
“That’s me.”
Then Joe’s eyes moved toward the last stick figure.
“And…?”
Aurora looked at him like he was asking the dumbest question in the world.
“That’s you.”
Silence. Joe froze. I froze harder.
Aurora just kept coloring like she hadn’t accidentally detonated an emotional bomb in the middle of the room.
Joe stared at the drawing for a long moment. And something in his expression changed.
Softened.
Like some hidden part of him liked the idea too much. Finally he cleared his throat.
“You made me look tall.”
Aurora nodded proudly.
“You are.”
I covered my face with one hand.
“This child is trying to kill me.”
Joe looked up at me slowly.
And the way he looked at me right then?
God. It felt like standing too close to a fire. Warm. Dangerous. Impossible not to notice.
Too much.
Way too much.
—
By lunchtime the entire facility basically knew Joe and Aurora were attached.
Which felt deeply humiliating.
Everywhere I turned somebody was smiling at me.
One of the equipment guys whispered, “That kid adopted him quick.”
I almost walked directly into traffic.
Zac was worse. Much worse.
He walked into the media room carrying sandwiches and stopped dead in the doorway.
Joe sat beside Aurora helping her unwrap fruit snacks.
Aurora sat criss-cross applesauce on the floor explaining football penalties with complete confidence.
And apparently the sight physically pained Zac.
“You two are difficult to witness.”
I looked up immediately.
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” Zac said while stealing Joe’s drink, “you act like divorced parents at a soccer tournament.”
Joe inhaled water.
Aurora gasped dramatically.
“What’s divorced?”
I pointed at Zac immediately.
“You are no longer allowed near children.”
“That feels dramatic.”
“You’re fired.”
Joe laughed quietly beside me. And before I could stop myself, I reached over automatically and brushed a napkin toward him.
“Slow down before you die.”
The second the words left my mouth, we both froze. Because that was old us. The automatic caretaking. The unconscious familiarity.
Joe looked at me for a second too long.
Then softly,
“You still do that.”
My chest tightened immediately.
“Do what?”
“Take care of everybody.”
Something about the way he said it made my throat hurt. So instead of answering, I focused aggressively on my sandwich. Coward.
—
Joe POV
I couldn’t stop watching her. Which honestly felt pathetic at this point. But every little thing about Y/N still felt familiar somehow.
The way she tucked hair behind her ear when concentrating. The way she frowned slightly while reading emails. The way she instinctively checked on Aurora every thirty seconds without even realizing she was doing it.
And God.
Watching her be a mom?
That ruined me. Not in some dramatic cinematic way. In a quiet one. The kind that settled deep in your chest and stayed there.
Because she was good at it. Really good. Gentle but firm. Funny. Patient.
At one point Aurora got frustrated trying to tie her sneaker. Before I could even process it, Y/N crouched down in front of her.
“Hey,” she said softly. “Breathe first.”
Aurora huffed dramatically.
“It’s stupid.”
“Nope.” Y/N smiled a little. “It’s hard. Different thing.”
The Bengals facility had never felt this loud before, phones rang nonstop, producers argued over graphics packages, editors rushed through hallways carrying cameras and coffee like their lives depended on it and everywhere I turned, I heard the same name.
“Burrow’s interview numbers are insane.” “Did you see his championship game?” “If we get Burrow, ticket sales are gonna explode.”
Burrow.
Burrow.
Burrow.
It followed me through every hallway like a ghost.
“Y/N!”
I looked up from my laptop as one of the social media interns nearly crashed into my desk.
“Can you approve the draft graphics before noon?”
“Depends,” I deadpanned. “Are they ugly?”
He looked offended. “No.”
“Then yes.”
He rushed away again while I leaned back in my chair with a quiet sigh.
Three days until the NFL Draft. Three days until my life potentially imploded.
The terrifying thing was nobody around me understood why I suddenly looked like I was one inconvenience away from a nervous breakdown.
To them, Joe Burrow was: the future franchise quarterback.
To me, Joe Burrow was: the boy who once knew every secret I ever had.
Big difference.
“Coffee.”
I looked up as Zac dropped a cup beside my laptop.
“You looked emotionally unstable from across the room.”
I snorted softly. “That obvious?”
“Painfully.”
He leaned against my desk while the chaos of the media department exploded around us. Zac had become annoyingly good at reading me over the years.
Probably because he’d seen me through almost every version of adulthood at this point, sleep-deprived intern, terrified young mom, career-obsessed disaster, woman pretending she definitely had everything under control.
Spoiler I did not.
“You’ve been weird all week,” Zac said casually.
“I’m always weird.”
“This is different.”
I took a long sip of coffee to avoid answering. Bad move.
Zac narrowed his eyes immediately.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You know him.”
My heart stopped. I forced a laugh that sounded painfully fake even to me.
“Know who?”
“Burrow.”
My stomach twisted. I focused very hard on organizing papers that absolutely did not need organizing.
“I mean,” I said carefully, “we grew up in the same town.”
Zac stared at me for a long moment.
“That is not the face of someone who just ‘grew up in the same town.’”
Heat rushed into my cheeks immediately.
“Can we not do this right now?”
His expression shifted slightly. Softer, more understanding.
“Oh,” he said quietly.
Just one word. But somehow it felt like he suddenly understood far more than I wanted him to. I swallowed hard.
“It’s complicated.”
“Those are usually the worst kinds.”
You have absolutely no idea. Before he could ask anything else, tiny sneakers squeaked loudly across the hallway.
“Mommy!”
Aurora launched herself directly at me, nearly knocking my chair backward.
“There’s cookies in the break room.”
“Wonderful news.”
“She already had two,” my coworker Lauren informed me while walking over with an amused smile.
“Snitch,” Aurora whispered dramatically.
Lauren laughed before looking at Zac.
“So are we emotionally preparing for Burrow or what?”
Every muscle in my body tightened instantly. Aurora looked between us curiously.
“Who’s Burrow?”
Silence. My stomach dropped. Zac answered first thankfully.
“A football player, bug.”
“Oh.” Aurora thought about that seriously. “Is he good?”
The entire room burst into laughter. I covered my face with my hand.
“Baby,” I laughed weakly, “yes. He’s good.”
“Gooder than you?”
I gasped dramatically. “Excuse me?”
Aurora shrugged. “You only played powder puff football.”
Lauren physically walked away laughing. Even Zac looked emotional trying not to smile. Aurora climbed into my lap comfortably while stealing my coffee despite my protests.
Sometimes moments like this hit me all at once.
This was my life now, meetings, media schedules, tiny sticky hands grabbing my hoodie strings, and a daughter who made every room brighter the second she entered it.
I loved this life. I did.
So why did the possibility of Joe returning feel like someone shaking the foundation underneath it?
—
That night, rain tapped softly against my apartment windows while Aurora slept curled sideways across her bed like a tiny tornado victim.
I stood in her doorway for a long moment just watching her.
One arm wrapped around her stuffed tiger, mouth slightly open, completely peaceful.
My chest tightened painfully.
Everything I’d survived became worth it because of her. Every lonely night. Every moment of fear. Every sacrifice.
Aurora was worth all of it.
I brushed hair carefully out of her face before quietly leaving the room.
The apartment felt too quiet afterward. Which usually meant my thoughts got loud. Bad sign.
I curled into the couch with my laptop balanced against my knees, absentmindedly editing draft graphics while ESPN played quietly in the background.
And then suddenly there he was again.
Joe.
A clip from LSU’s championship run flashed across the screen while commentators debated his draft stock.
“He changed that entire program.”
“Most NFL-ready quarterback in years.”
“He carries himself like a veteran already.”
I stared at the screen too long. Because they didn’t know him. Not really.
They knew: Joe Burrow the athlete.
I knew: Joe sneaking into my room after midnight because he “couldn’t sleep.” Joe teaching me how to throw a spiral. Joe sitting beside me on my roof at sixteen whispering, “I think if we ever stop talking, it’ll ruin me.”
My throat tightened. Funny how life works. I grabbed my phone before I could stop myself.
Opened our messages again. Still unread. Still silent.
I stared at the blinking cursor in the text box.
heard cincinnati might draft you
Delete.
this is weird huh?
Delete.
Are you nervous?
Delete.
Finally I just typed:
joe?
My chest physically hurt looking at it.
One word.
Four years of missing someone packed into one pathetic little text. I stared at the send button for almost thirty seconds. Then locked my phone instead.
Because I was tired.
Tired of being the only person still reaching across the distance between us.
—
Joe POV
“You ready for this?”
I barely looked up from my phone as my trainer walked into the room.
Instead I was staring at my messages like an idiot.
Her name still sat near the top.
Y/N.
I should’ve deleted the thread years ago. Instead I’d kept every message like some kind of masochist.
Happy birthday :)
Hope camp is going good.
Saw your game today. Proud of you always.
I swallowed hard.
The worst part? I read every single one. Just never answered.
At first it was anger. Then hurt. Then time passed and suddenly too much silence existed between us to know how to fix it.
Because from where I stood, Y/N chose someone else.
Matt.
A real relationship. A real future.
Meanwhile I spent years trying to forget the girl who’d somehow become part of every important memory I had.
Failed spectacularly, obviously.
“You’ve got that look again,” my mom said gently from the doorway.
I locked my phone immediately.
“What look?”
“The one where you pretend you’re not thinking about her.”
My chest tightened instantly. Moms noticed everything too apparently.
“I’m not-”
“Joseph.”
I sighed, leaning back against the couch.
“She stopped talking to me first.”
My mom gave me a look.
“Did she?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it again. Because suddenly I wasn’t entirely sure anymore.
“You know,” she said softly, “sometimes two stubborn people can love each other very much and still completely misunderstand each other.”
That felt uncomfortably accurate. Before I could answer, my phone buzzed with a notification from my agent.
Draft projections updated. Cincinnati likely selecting QB Joe Burrow first overall.
My stomach dropped.
Cincinnati.
Immediately, automatically, my mind went straight to her.
Y/N lives in Cincinnati.
The realization hit so hard it almost stole my breath.
After years of distance, years of silence, years of pretending I was over it I might walk into her life again in less than a week.
And the terrifying part?
A piece of me realized instantly, no matter how successful football made me, no matter how far I’d gone Y/N was still the first thing I thought about when I imagined coming home.
