“I think I’m a fucking mess, Bella girl. I think I need to work through this shit before I do something stupid.”
So even though it was after ten, I called the team psychologist, Amber Needham.
She picked up on the second ring. “Lennon, I’ve been expecting your call.”
“You have? Why?”
“Silas said you have some things to work through. Maybe work out.”
I blew out a breath that held a lot of annoyance and also some thankfulness for my coach. He looked after me—after all of us—and we were lucky to have such a staunch supporter.
I leaned my head back against the door and, petting Belladonna, walked Amber through the issue I’d had tonight with the player’s hands on my neck and the reasons for it—the attack in Michigan in September.
“Wow. It’s completely understandable that you’d react that way. Bodies and minds work through trauma at different paces and with varying results. Talking about the attack, how it made you feel, and how you felt tonight are all good steps to understanding and respecting your healing process.”
“I’m not sure I can heal,” I mumbled.
Amber waited.
I squeezed my eyes shut, annoyed that she was going to make me say the words, deal with the shit I didn’t want to. “This all leads back to Vivian,” I told her with a long, drawn-out sigh.
“Tell me,” Amber said.
So I did. By the time I’d finished explaining about Vivian, my ass was numb, the dog was asleep, and I felt…unburdened.
“Thank you for sharing those details with me, Lennon,” Amber said. “I think we should meet again, either via telephone or in my office this week.”
“Will talking about the attack make it easier for me to do my job?” I asked as I shifted. My legs were stiff, and my toes were tingling.
“It should, but I’m not sure. What I do know is that dealing with trauma means it no longer has as much of a hold over you.”
“I sense a but,” I said. I grunted as Belladonna clambered off my lap and shook herself. I twisted to my knees and slowly rose to my feet. Those floor tiles were not comfortable.
“I don’t think this is as much about what you suffered that night as what you lost,” Amber said softly.
She meant Vivian.
And she was absolutely right.
We ended the call a couple of minutes later, and I was shocked to see the time.
“After midnight. Wow. All right, let’s go pee, girl.”
I clipped on Belladonna’s leash, and we went outside to the grassy area where the dogs in the building did their business.
I pulled up Vivian’s information, my gaze drawn to the tiny picture of her, laughing as she sat in that canoe. I loved that photo, not because of what she was wearing or even the memory of how fantastic that day had been…until it wasn’t. I loved that photo because of the way Vivian had looked at me. Love had glowed from her eyes and seemingly every pore of her face.
“I want you here with me so bad, Vivi,” I said. “So bad. I wish…”
I cursed as I exited the app, shutting down the chance to contact her.
I’d waited months to call her. Months. My texts had been innocuous at best—just a way to let myself confirm she was still okay. She had to be angry, probably hurt as well. Reaching out now would only make the situation worse.
But I changed my tune almost immediately when I found Naese blubbering in the corner of his house a few days later. As I listened to him talk about his girl, Hana, something akin to excitement rose in my chest and flickered over my skin.
I knew that name—Hana Sato was Vivian’s neighbor. Talk about a sign from the universe! I’d call Vivi, talk to her about Hana, and ease the way for me to get back in her good graces…
Oh, everything was looking up. That’s what I told Amber. That’s what I believed.
