She said I wasn’t weak. She said I let her help and that mattered. But all I could hear in my head was the silence in the room when Mac looked at me like a liability. Like a problem to be solved instead of a person with something left to give.
I didn’t want to be done. I wasn’t ready for that, but I also couldn’t go back to pretending nothing was wrong.
My chest rose on another inhale. I counted it. One. Two. Three.
If I kept my heart rate down tonight, I could show up tomorrow and pass her test. If I passed the test, I’d be cleared. And if I got cleared, maybe everything wouldn’t slip away.
That was all I had for now.
Breathe. Sleep. Show up. My heart rate was steady, strong, like nothing happened at all. It was bullshit how my body betrayed me like this, and I didn’t know how much longer I could play this game. Tortured thoughts crossed my mind as I drifted in and out of sleep.
But then an hour or two later, I stirred. I didn’t hear the knock at first. Thought I imagined it. I got up and went to the door.
She stood there—hood up, cheeks flushed, eyes tired in a way I hadn’t seen all season. Her hair was pulled back loosely, pieces slipping out like she’d tried to fix it and gave up. She looked like she hadn’t stopped moving since I left the facility. And somehow, she still looked like the only thing that made sense.
“Hi,” she said, voice low.
That one word hit harder than anything anyone had said to me all day. I stepped back, letting her in without asking why she came. I didn’t need her to say it.
She walked in like she’d done it a hundred times before. But her choosing to be here felt different now. The air shifted. Not in a dramatic way, just heavy, like we both knew exactly what today had cost and we were still standing in it.
She set her water bottle on the counter. I didn’t offer her anything. I didn’t know what would help. She looked around the space like she was checking for signs of damage. Her eyes finally landed on me.
“You look better than you did earlier. Your color is back, not as flushed and sweaty” she said.
I ran a hand through my hair. “Still feels like shit.”
“Good. That means your body hasn’t lied to you yet.”
She didn’t smile. She wasn’t here to coddle me. That made it easier, somehow.
I leaned against the wall across from her and crossed my arms. I wanted to pull her into me, but she kept her distance. Was it because she saw me differently? My muscles tensed, preparing for the worst. She came to end this because I was weak, because I was a liability.
For a few seconds, neither of us said anything. Just stood there, a few feet apart, not touching, not pushing. I should’ve asked how she was holding up. I should’ve said something to make this less heavy. But I couldn’t. I was afraid of talking.
“What you did today,” she said, “it doesn’t erase anything you’ve built. You’re still the same person. The same player. The same man I know.”
My chest tightened again, not painfully but enough to have me clear my throat and look away. That sounded like pity in her voice. “You keep saying that like it’s true. It’s not true, Sloane. Look, I’m tired,” I said, my voice scratchy from exhaustion.
“Would you look at me, please?”
She stepped forward once, slow. Close enough that I could smell her shampoo, sense her warmth. My hands fisted at my sides, clenching so I wouldn’t touch her. With a long breath, I faced her, and the breath was knocked out of me.
She looked at me like she cared for me, and I had no idea what to do with that. I didn’t deserve it.
“I...I need to be with you tonight,” she whispered. She reached out and took my hand, unclenching my fingers and intertwining them with her. “Can I stay here with you? If you want space, I’ll give it to you, but I really hope you don’t.”
I chewed my cheek, torn between pushing her away and sinking into her. God, I wanted her. I wanted her so badly, and when she trailed a finger over my wrist and my pulse settled, I smiled. “Did you know that despite being excited to see you, you help settle my pulse?”
Her lips curved up, eyes sparkling. “Did you know despite also getting excited and nervous to see you, I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you?”
“Sloane,” I said, my voice barely more than a breath.
She didn’t answer, but she didn’t look away.
I reached for her slowly, giving her time to stop me if she needed to. When she didn’t move, I pulled her toward me and wrapped my arms around her. She pressed her face into my chest like it was the only place she trusted herself to land. I kept one hand cradling the back of her head, the other pressed gently against her spine. Her body was warm through the soft cotton of her hoodie. My eyes fell closed without thinking.
I didn’t say anything. I held her. My chest rose and fell in rhythm with hers. I could feel how hard I had been holding myself up all day and how quickly the weight shifted now that she was here.
