“No more secrets,” she says.
“No more,” I agree.
“No more deciding for me.”
“Never again.”
She nods once.
“We fight together.”
“Together.”
And this time I mean it.
TWENTY-THREE
Amelia
The conference room feels colder than it should.
Too bright. Too sterile. Too official.
League representatives sit on one side of the long table. Coach Carson beside them. Susan with her hands folded neatly in front of her tablet.
And across from them is Wilder and me.
He’s close enough that our knees brush under the table, but not touching otherwise. Professional. Controlled.
My pulse pounds anyway.
This isn’t a secret anymore.
This is us out loud.
The older league rep clears his throat. “We understand you both requested this meeting to clarify your positions.”
“Yes,” I say before Wilder can speak.
My voice is steady.
It surprises even me.
“We’re together,” I continue. “And we intend to stay together.”
Silence falls.
Coach Carson’s jaw tightens slightly, but he doesn’t interrupt.
The female league representative studies us carefully. “You understand the scrutiny that comes with that statement.”
“Yes,” Wilder says calmly beside me.
I glance at him.
He looks solid. Certain. Not reckless.
“I have already recused myself from Wilder’s sessions,” I say. “That arrangement will remain permanent.”
