The Quarterback’s First Love – Episode 10
Outside the bar, silence settled around Maddie like clean water. The muffled music and shouting remained behind the closed door, leaving only cool air, streetlights, and Cameron walking beside her. She stole glances at him, comparing the man to the boy now vivid in her memory. The resemblance was undeniable once she knew where to look.
“Where do you want me to take you?” he asked. The practical question stopped her. Brett’s apartment was no longer home, and the car waiting near the stadium barely qualified as shelter. The orphanage had ceased being home the day Jack was taken away.
Embarrassment warmed her face. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.” Cameron tilted his head, waiting without judgment. To lighten the moment, he offered to carry her to the ends of the earth, then claimed his back hurt from carrying the Dragons to a championship.
Maddie laughed—a real laugh that surprised them both. “That was terrible.” Cameron grinned. “But effective.” The exchange restored for a heartbeat the easy companionship they had shared as children, when Jack could pull her from tears with the worst jokes imaginable.
His expression softened as he watched her smile. “There it is.” Maddie asked what he meant. “The smile,” he said. “I was hoping it was still there.” The words revealed too much, and Cameron looked toward the parking lot before she could question him.
He suggested collecting her things from Brett’s apartment. Maddie hugged herself. “He kicked me out.” Anger darkened Cameron’s face, but his reply remained controlled. “Even if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t let you go back to someone who treats you that way.”
“You don’t get to decide for me,” she said, more sharply than intended. Cameron accepted the correction at once. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” His willingness to step back distinguished protection from possession more clearly than any promise could. “I only mean you have other options.”
He offered her a room at the Dragons’ team hotel, hastily clarifying that it would be separate and secure. Maddie folded her arms. “You want me to go to a hotel with a stranger?” The word hurt him; she saw it before he hid the reaction behind humor.
They continued down the uneven sidewalk. Maddie wondered why she was testing him when she already remembered. Perhaps she needed to see whether Cameron would tell her without being forced, or perhaps admitting the truth meant reopening the grief that followed their separation.
Her shoe caught in a crack, and pain shot through her ankle. Cameron caught her before she hit the pavement, one arm around her waist and the other beneath her elbow. Maddie clutched his jacket, suddenly close enough to hear the quick beat of his heart.
“You’re going to drop me,” she breathed. Cameron’s eyes held hers. “No, I’m not.” The certainty carried them backward through time. “I’m never going to let anything happen to you, Mads.”
The exact cadence unlocked the last barrier in her mind. Jack lay pale in a hospital bed, promising through pain that he would always protect her. Maddie heard her younger self ask, “You promise?” and felt Cameron’s present-day arms holding her upright.
“I promise,” he answered now. Neither of them moved. Maddie could have spoken his old name then, but emotion closed her throat. Cameron mistook her silence for confusion and carefully helped her to a nearby bench.
At the hotel, he found a first-aid kit and knelt before her. His hands were gentle as he examined the swelling, wrapped her ankle, and asked before every touch. Brett had treated care like currency. Cameron offered it as naturally as breathing.
“Good as new,” he said when he finished. Maddie thanked him, and he brushed it aside. She shook her head. “You don’t understand. No one has done something like this for me in a long time.” Guilt and tenderness crossed his face because they both knew, on some level, that he once had.
Cameron sat opposite her. “Why did you let Brett treat you that way?” The question held no accusation, only pain. Maddie stared at the neat bandage and admitted that being alone frightened her more than being unhappy. Without family or savings, every locked door had seemed permanent. “I thought needing someone meant I had to accept whatever they gave me.”
“You never deserved that, Mads.” The nickname came effortlessly again. Maddie looked up. “Why do you call me that?” Cameron froze. The quiet hotel lobby seemed to contract around them as every unsaid year gathered in his expression.
“No one has called me Mads since the orphanage,” she continued. Cameron lowered his gaze, struggling between his desire to tell her and his fear of forcing traumatic memories back too quickly. He had waited twelve years for this conversation and still did not know how to begin.
Maddie reached into her pocket and placed the silver football keychain between them. “This belonged to a boy named Jack Harper.” Cameron looked at the charm, and all color left his face. The careful secret he had carried since the stadium was no longer his alone.
She touched the pale scar at the side of his neck, her fingers trembling. “I remember the scissors. I remember the hospital, the Carters, and chasing the car.” Tears filled Cameron’s eyes as Maddie finally spoke the name he thought she had lost forever. “Jack, why didn’t you tell me who you were?”