Chapter III: Hello Goodbyes
Texas heat had a way of sitting on your chest even when you were indoors, like the whole state refused to let you breathe easy on your way out. Layla felt every bit of that pressure as she folded the last box shut. The apartment looked stripped bare, like a body on a slab waiting to be tagged. Just boxes, dust outlines where furniture used to live, and that quiet hum in the walls that always kicked in right before a major life shift. Dale and Layla had spent the last few days moving like ghosts—packing, dumping, tying loose ends tighter than guilt knots. Dale handled the lease-break fees like it was nothing, helping Layla sign off on the last of the paperwork. While he was out doing sentimental football shit, shaking hands with the man who’d watched him grow from phenom to legend. Zara slid through the apartment for her own goodbye. The kind that didn’t need balloons or playlists—just two women and a half-melted Hershey bar between them.
Layla drop onto the couch next to Zara, snapping off a square of chocolate and stuffing it in her mouth, fixing for a pick-me-up. “I can’t believe this our last day here. This shit feel surreal.” She broke off chocolate, popped it in her mouth with a sigh. “I can’t imagine how you gon’ hold up without me around to keep your ass entertained.” Layla smirked, leaning on the back of the couch.
Zara clicked her tongue, all attitude and edges. “Mmhmm. Bitch, whatever. You ain’t that entertaining. I always find ways to keep myself… occupied.” Zara rolled her eyes playfully, snatching off a piece of chocolate like it owed her money. “You wish you had my life. But it won’t be the same without you out here starting chaos every time you breathe.” Then her expression softened, which didn’t happen often—like a pit bull deciding to nap instead of fight. “But for real… how you holding up? All this baby drama shit with Dale gotta be weighing you down.”
Layla let out a breath that felt too big for her chest. She dropped her head back into the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling like it had answers. “To be honest? It’s been a damn roller coaster. I’m excited for Buffalo—new place, new start with him… but this paternity bomb? It’s thrown everything upside down.” She hugged her knees, voice barely above a whisper. “I trust him. I do. But the timing? His ex popping up out the shadows with this? Feels messy. Makes me wonder what else is waiting to crawl out.”
She swallowed, eyes burning. “And if the kid is his… then what? I’m diving into a new city while trying to co-parent with a stranger. It’s a lot, Zar’. Like… a lot.”
"Girl, I hear you. This whole situation is messy AF. But you gotta keep faith in Dale and the bond y'all got. He seems like he's doing the right thing, trying to get answers. That's saying more than half these dudes walking around here." Zara shrugged, letting the moment breathe. "But you better than me. I ain’t got that kind of patience. Ain’t no good dick on earth worth dealing with another bitch popping up talking ’bout "baby need this, baby need that, child support! Bitch, please...” She snapped another piece of chocolate. “Fuck her though. You stronger than whatever lil’ storyline she tryna start. And if she wanna step?” Zara’s eyes went wolf-dark. “Say the word. I’ll be on the first flight to beat the brakes off her and cut that bitch.”
Layla snickers softly at Zara's fierce declaration, shaking her head. "Oh, I have no doubt you'd be on the first thing smoking to defend my honor, you crazy bitch." She shook her head, nudging Zara's arm affectionately. "One of the many reasons I adore you." Wanting to shake off the heavy mood, she pushed herself up and stretched, her workout shorts riding up her hips. She drifted to the kitchen, grabbed two water bottles, tossing one to Zara. “Come help me double-check the packing. I want everything done before Dale gets back. It’s our last night here… I wanna make the most of it.”
Zara’s grin turned wicked, slow, knowing. “Oh, I bet you do. Gotta give the neighbors one last performance before you move up north for your pookie Daley baby.” She coo'd as she draped herself over Layla’s back like a shawl. “Look at you… all in love and shit.”
Layla blushed, but didn’t deny it. “Yeah… well… he’s my person. You know I love me some quality time with him” Then her expression softened into something more serious. “And I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want too. Not just being Dale Denton’s girlfriend.”
Zara straightened, surprise flickering. “Oh yeah? Like what? And don’t tell me you wanna be some pick-me housewife baking cookies and ironing Dale’s drawers.”
Layla shoved her arm playfully. “No, dumbass. But… I’m thinking about leaving the industry. For real. I’ve been looking into online programs for programming… game design, voice acting or something. I wanted to get involved since I was like 13, growing up. I know, it's probably surprising given my current... line of work. But I've grown tired of the stigma, of constantly battling society's perceptions. And I’ve always loved gaming. I think it’s time I actually do something real for myself.”
Zara blinked—then barked a laugh. “So underneath all the Nicki Minaj hair, lashes and ass, you really a nerdy lil’ brat. I knew it.”
Layla shoved her playfully. “Shut up! Ugh, can't stand your trifling ass!”
“Nah, but for real?” Zara’s smile softened. “I’m proud of you. Takes guts to leave lucrative money to chase a dream.” She pulled Layla into a tight hug—but her eyes flickered with something darker, hotter, sharp as a razor hidden in velvet. Jealousy. Want. Fear of being left behind, but she masked it quick.
“Go ahead, girl. Chase that fucking dream and make it yours." Zara released her with an exaggerated huff. “But hey—whatever you need, I got you. Always going to support you. We ride or die, remember?”
Layla smiled, genuinely warmed. “Always.”
The apartment felt smaller now—boxes stacked, memories fading into cardboard, the quiet hum of an ending turning into something new. Buffalo was calling. So was the truth. And tonight? Tonight was the last breath of their old life.
——————————————————————————————————————————————————
Meanwhile, across town, Austin was breathing its last little hold on Dale Denton. The sun was sliding down over the University of Texas campus, painting the towers gold like the place already knew it was losing one of its brightest sons. Dale had spent the earlier part of his day dap’n up the juniors-turned-seniors, showing love, cracking jokes, blessing them with the kind of knowledge you can’t scribble on clipboard paper. Just presence. Just energy. The type of gem only a made man could drop. Later he found himself in Coach Elko’s office — the last conversation before the next chapter ripped open.
Elko leaned back in his chair, studying Dale the same way a father studies a grown kid before he leaves the house for good. “Dale, I can’t tell you how much I'm proud of you, son.” His voice had that weight behind it, that gravel that only comes from years of pushing boys toward greatness and watching the world chew them up. But with Dale, it was different — pride mixed with awe. “I’m really proud of the work you’ve done,” Elko continued. “And excited to see you do great things at the next level. Even if it was just a year, I’m glad to have been your coach. You gave this program a hell of a season… a championship this place has been starving for.”
Dale cracked a grin, all humble heat. “I’m excited too. Coming here, playing in the SEC… it answered everything I ever questioned about myself. I played the best in college football, left nothing untouched.”
Elko nodded slow, like he knew Dale was speaking nothing but truth. “You stepped up to the challenge. Showed folks what you were made of. Watching you grow in this system? Man… that was something special.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice dropping to that mentor tone. “Leadership. Undying competitiveness. The hunger to learn. You set a new standard for quarterbacks at Texas. You brought swagger into the huddle… and confidence onto the field.”
The room went real still, real heavy, like the walls were trying to remember every last word.
Elko locked eyes with him. “Remember this, Dale — talent gets you seen. Grit gets you paid. And you? You got grit in abundance. You’re built for the pressure. Built for the Sunday lights.”
Dale took that in, nodding, smiling with that quiet confidence killers carry. “I was speaking to Coach Danielson on my way here, he said something to the same effect. He's excited for me just as well.Dale takes a moment before continuing his statement.But I gotta say, I'm a Dawg for life, but I'm honored and proud to have learned from you. No question your philosophies will stick with me going forward."
Elko broke into a warm chuckle. It was rare to see the man soften like that. “Well… I’m just grateful I got to coach you. You grew as a quarterback, but even more as a man.” He stood and extended his hand — not as a coach, but as somebody who respected the grind. The shake was firm. Real down the middle. No fluff on both sides. “No matter where you go, you got a supporter in me. I’m looking forward to watching you light up the league.”
He released Dale’s hand, smiling wide. “And hey — don’t forget this place. You’re always welcome back in Austin. Come visit the squad sometime.”
“You already know, Coach. I’ll send you some tickets when I come through to face Dallas or Houston.” Dale offered.
“Oh, absolutely. Send them my way,” Elko grinned. “Ain’t nothing I’d like more than kicking back with a cold one and watch the defense sweat.”
Dale's eyes drifting toward the plaque of the team at the national championship behind Elko — the title he helped bring home. “I hope Alonzo carries the torch next season. Hate that I left him with big shoes to fill, but… something tells me he’ll be alright.”
Elko looked back at the plaque, nodded like he could already see the future. “Leaving big shoes is proof of the mark you left. Alonzo learned from you. He’s ready to step up. This program is in good hands because of what you instilled here.”
Dale shook his hand one more time, grip firm with respect. “Thanks, Coach. Wish you the best moving forward.” He let out a laugh. “Alright, I gotta go. I left my lady to handle all the last-minute packing. She’s definitely gonna put me to work when we land in Buffalo. Good thing I ain't moving in the winter.”
Elko’s laugh boomed like a man who’d heard that story a thousand times. “Best of luck to you and your lady. Communication, respect, work ethic — remember those. That’s how you win on and off the field.”
Dale was halfway out the door when Elko called out one last time — the kind of line a young man hears in his head years later, right before making history. “Safe travels, kid! Chin down, eyes up. This is just the beginning. Give ’em hell in Buffalo!”
The door closed behind him. Austin had just watched a legend walk out. Buffalo had no idea what was coming.
