Shit. I’m already conflicted, and he hasn’t even said a damn thing.
See? I actually didn’t think this through when I decided to stay. I’ve been so wrapped up in Alara, in family time, that I didn’t think about the consequences of my decision.
“I’m actually calling with great news,” he says, when the silence drags on for too long. I ruffle my hair and sit on the edge of the mattress. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you via Joe and Max” – Dr Ellis and Coach are on first-name terms – “and you’ve been recovering faster than anticipated. I also heard you were giving back to the community with a lot of enthusiasm by participating in town activities. I’ve seen a few pics, and you look like you had fun at the Christmas market and the ice rink and the bake-off, oh, and the competition where you were part of the jury. You also look like you’re enjoying assisting those skiing lessons with your boss’s daughter.”
She’s so much more than my boss’s daughter. I wet my lips, suddenly feeling my throat going dry. “What are you saying, Coach?”
“I’m saying you look lighter. You sound lighter too. You look good, well rested.”
So . . . How exactly do I tell him it’s all because of this one girl who’s stolen my heart? This one girl who has a breathtaking smile she keeps only for me, who’s managed to pull me away from the gray clouds I’d been hiding behind for years?
She makes me want to become a better man.
“Thanks?” I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. “Can you not beat around the bush? Please?”
“Ah, here he is. Thought I’d lost you for one moment.”
“Nope, still very much myself. Just lighter, I guess.”
He chuckles quietly. “I think you’re good to come home, Diego. You can carry on with your recovery here, and, if you really like Max’s way of working, he’s willing to temporarily move here to help you. His wife is on board too. I can’t promise anything for the USASA Nationals, but we’ll talk about it in person. What’s certain is that you’ll be able to move forward to train with the team. We’ll start training for the Winter Olympics qualifications in March. I know I’m coming in hot with that news, so I’m more than fine with you coming back early next week so that you can still spend New Year’s Eve in Blue Ridge. Unless there’s nothing holding you back there and you have nothing planned. That’s up to you.”
¡No manches!
I suck in a breath, my deafening heartbeat concealed by my shocked response. “Really?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ALARA
Diego sounds hopeful. Excited. And that makes a throbbing pain rush through my entire body before it violently wraps around my heart.
I knew this day was coming, but not this early.
I thought we had more time.
I just started to have him, and now he wants to go back to his life – a life I’m definitely not part of.
Blinded by my love for him and all the moments when we lost ourselves in each other, I thought he’d changed his mind. I had absolutely no idea that he was so eager to go back to Utah. He hadn’t expressed his desperation to leave in a while. Now, I feel like the biggest idiot. Diego’s priority will always be snowboarding.
Swallowing the heavy knot that’s built in my throat, I watch him walk down the stairs while raking his fingers through his disheveled hair. He’s put his boxers on, his toned chest dotted with the reddish marks I branded him with last night. My hands are already shaking, because I’m about to confront him about the call, so I grip the edge of the counter I’m leaning against. My coffeemaker stops purring, indicating that my cup is full andready to be consumed, but I can’t stomach doing anything while the fear of losing him is fogging my mind.
“Do you know how to make French toast?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to my state of distress. “I’ve been craving it since Val mentioned it yesterday.”
So, he’s not going to say anything? He just wants to eat?
When I don’t answer, he looks up at me with a frown pulling at his brows. “What’s wrong?” He takes a seat on a barstool, catching the way I start to worry my lip. Ineverdo that, but I need to hold a semblance of control over my emotions.
After taking a breath in, I say, as softly as I can, hoping to conceal the bitter taste on my tongue, “So, this is what you wanted, right? Be cleared by the end of the month? You’re going back?”
Diego’s mouth parts. His frown deepens. “Were you eavesdropping?”
The tone he uses, the way I’m ready to get defensive, tells me I should’ve approached the situation differently.
“It’s not like you were trying to be discreet about it,” I snap. “You put him on speaker and this place is small.”
“I didn’t even say yes.” His voice is strained, rough, like he’s trying to rein in his own frustration.
“You thought about it.”
