On the two televisions suspended from the ceiling, the commentator explained how it had happened. "The Bills began to lose their momentum during the second quarter, and they never regained it. You can't make that many critical mistakes against a team as talented and well coached as the Stars. This team has improved so much over the season. No doubt about it. The Stars are this season's Cinderella team."
Meanwhile, the Cinderella team's owner had been left with a broken heart and a glass slipper that had shattered into a million pieces. Hours later, as she stood at her bedroom window, her eyes swollen and her chest aching, she wondered how she was going to find the courage to go on. She had suffered a betrayal so deep and wrenching that she felt as if she had been ripped apart. For the first time in her life, she had dared to hope that she was worthy of love, only to discover, once again, that she was wrong.
She had no more tears left. Her insides were as empty as a broken vessel. I loved you so, Dan. Why couldn't you have loved me back.
The following Tuesday afternoon Sharon was putting the last of the poster paint away in the cupboard when Dan walked into the classroom. She was a mess, as usual, and she tried to tuck her shirttail back into her slacks. Why did she always have to look her worst when he came by?
"You missed the kids. They left almost an hour ago."
"I wish I could have gotten away earlier."
"I'm surprised you could get away at all." She fumbled nervously with her shirt cuffs as she rolled them down. "When are you leaving for Miami?"
"Tonight. We have our first practice Wednesday morning."
"One more win and you're in the AFC Championship."
"Too bad we have to beat the Dolphins to get there." He slipped his hands into his pockets. "I have to meet some reporters at five-thirty. Why don't we go grab a quick bite to eat?"
"I didn't know you were stopping by, and I promised my sister I'd go shopping with her." She saw that he looked edgy. "Is something wrong?"
"It can wait."
"Are you sure? I know how tight your schedule is. We didn't even get to see each other after the game on Sunday."
"I'd rather have some privacy. This probably isn't the best place to talk."
She wasn't a naturally assertive person, especially around him, but she wanted to get this over with. Making her way to one of the small tables, she drew out a chair and sat down. "Everyone's left, so we won't be interrupted. Let's talk now."
He should have looked ridiculous as he lowered his large frame into the tiny chair next to her, but he accomplished the move as gracefully as he did everything else. Just looking at him made her feel awkward and unsure of herself. When would she feel comfortable with this man?
He picked up her hand and trapped it between his. "Sharon, you're one of the nicest people I've ever known."
Her heart began to pound in dread. She'd been waiting for this moment for weeks, but now that it was here, she wasn't ready.
"As soon as I met you, I realized that you were everything I admired in a woman. You're sweet tempered and kind…"
He listed her virtues, but instead of being flattered, she wanted him to let her hand go. Everything about him was too big for her-his size, his reputation. He was too good looking, too strong, too rich. Why couldn't he be ordinary like her?
He rubbed her hand. "For a long time now, I've been playing around with the idea that the two of us might have a future together. I suspect you know that."
He was going to propose, and she would have to accept, because a woman would be insane to turn down a man like him. Life was getting ready to hand her the gold ring, so why did she feel as if she wanted to jump off the merry-go-round?
"… that's why it's so hard for me to tell you I've made a mistake." He looked down at her hand.
"A mistake?"
"I've been leading you toward something I thought was right, but I've only recently realized that it's not."
She sat up straighter in the tiny chair and permitted herself the first flicker of hope. "It isn't?"
"Sharon, I'm sorry. I've been doing a lot of thinking about the two of us in the past few days…"
"Yes?"
"This is all my fault. I'm old enough to know myself better and not make this kind of mistake."
She was afraid she'd expire from the suspense if he didn't get to the point soon.
"As special as you are, and you are special-As important as this relationship has been to me…" Once again, his voice trailed off.
"Dan, are you dumping me?"
He looked horrified. "God, no! It's nothing like that. We're friends. It's just-"
"You are! You're dumping me."
His face fell. "I feel like a heel for leading you on. I got caught up with you and the kids and everything. You'd think I would have figured out by now what I want out of life. I'm sorry I had to put you through my mid-life crisis."
"No, no, it's fine! Really. I understand." She could barely hold back her glee. "I guess I've known for a while that we weren't right for each other, but I didn't know how to talk to you about it. I'm glad you came to see me, and I appreciate you being honest with me. Most men wouldn't have put themselves through a confrontation. They would have just stopped calling."
"I couldn't do that."
"Of course you couldn't." She wasn't able to control the smile that was spreading over her face.
He began to look amused. "Don't you want to cry or hit me or something?"
She didn't always get his jokes, but she understood this one. "I guess you can tell that I'm a little bit relieved. I've been feeling sort of crazy these past few weeks. You're every woman's dream man, and I knew I should fall in love with you."
"But you didn't."
She shook her head.
"Sharon, I can't believe I'm going to do this, but I wasn't exactly expecting this conversation to turn out so well. Yesterday, a friend of mine asked me about you. At first I thought he was just curious because he knew you were my guest at the game on Sunday, but then I realized he wanted to ask you out himself."
"The one thing I've learned the past few months is that I'm not comfortable with athletes."
"Perfect."
She couldn't understand why he was smiling.
Still grinning, he rose from the small chair. "My friend's not much of an athlete. He plays basketball, but just between the two of us, he's pretty pathetic."
"I don't know."
"It's Ron McDermitt, our general manager."
"Ron?"
"Do you have a problem with me giving him your phone number?"
"Problem? Oh, no. No, I don't have a problem with that at all."
She must have sounded too eager because he started to chuckle. Leaning down, he gave her a peck on the cheek. "I have a feeling I'll be seeing you around."
He was still shaking his head with amusement as he walked out to his car. His life was starting all over again, and the future was no longer murky, but crystal clear. Now that he'd settled things with Sharon, he could tell Phoebe how much he loved her. The knowledge had been inside him for a long time, but he'd been too confused by the erotic smoke screen that surrounded her to realize it. His sweet, smart, gutsy little bimbo. He didn't think he'd ever forget the way she'd looked sitting on the side of his bed spilling out all her secrets. When she'd told him about her rape, he'd wanted to throw back his head and howl. She made him feel things that scared him to death.
He reached his car, and some of his euphoria faded. He'd survived childhood by learning not to love anyone too much, and the depth of emotion he felt for her terrified him a lot more than any defensive lineup he'd ever faced. He'd always held something back from women, but that wasn't going to be possible with her. Telling her how much he loved her would be the biggest risk he'd ever taken because there was always the chance that she'd throw those feelings right back in his face.