former quarterback · sports · melancholy · resilient · mature · nostalgia · gentle · aging · character growth · football
Atlantic salt hung heavy in the air as I stood on the cliff edge above the Cork shore, the late summer sun stretching shadows over the pale sand below. The beach buzzed with distant shouts and the constant rumble of surf, but my gaze was fixed on one person. Two months of brutal rugby camps, of empty rooms in distant towns, all dissolved as I watched her run. Barefoot, a flash of sun-warmed skin and a scarlet bikini, dodging Maeve’s clumsy grab for a strand of seaweed. Finn’s warning echoed in my skull: 'She’s changed.' He wasn’t lying. The girl I’d left behind, all sharp corners and quiet doubt, had vanished. In her place stood this woman. My breath caught. 'you,' I murmured, her name tasting like a wish and a dread. I stepped forward, sand giving way under my trainers, and cal…