I nod slowly. “Still...I am sorry. For everything. For the way I left. For not being strong enough to stay.”
Luke’s gaze drops for a second, then flicks back up to mine. “Yeah, well...Iamstrong enough now. So maybe next time,Iget to decide when I walk away.”
Something about that makes my throat go tight. But he grins to take the edge off.
I watch the way his grin lingers—easy, unguarded, the kind that used to light up locker rooms and late-night talks on my couch. It’s the same smile, but it doesn’t carry the same weight anymore. He’s not asking for anything. Not apologies, not answers, not even me. He’s just…here. And that alone is enough to make the air feel thinner.
I swallow, trying to keep my voice even. “You look good, Luke. Really good.”
He ducks his head for a second, almost shy, then meets my eyes again. “Thanks. Feels good to feel good, you know?”
There’s a beat where neither of us speaks. The hum of the walk-in cooler behind me fills the quiet, steady and low like a heartbeat.
He shifts his weight, glances around the cramped break room as though he’s seeing it for the first time. “So… this is where you disappeared to? Bartending in random bars?”
I let out a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Something like that. Pays the bills. Gives me time to think. Or not think. Depends on the night.”
He nods, as if that makes perfect sense. Then his expression softens further, something brighter flickering behind it.
“I got into med school,” he says quietly, almost like he’s testing the words out loud for the first time tonight. “Just found out last week. That’s why the guys dragged me out. Celebrating. Or trying to, anyway. Didn’t feel like going to Riot.”
The words hit me square in the chest—warm, bright, unexpected.
“Luke…” My voice cracks on his name, just a little. I can’t help the smile that pulls at my mouth, genuine and wideenough that it almost hurts. “That’s—Jesus. That’s incredible. I mean it. You’re gonna be amazing.”
He laughs under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck the way he always did when praise made him squirm. “Yeah, well. Still gotta survive four years of hell and residency after that, but… yeah. Feels like the first real step toward something that’s mine.”
I lean forward, elbows on my knees, studying him. “You always had that fire. I never doubted you’d get there.”
His gaze holds mine a second longer than necessary. “I know you didn’t.”
The words land soft, but they carry everything we’re not saying. I believed in him. I still do. And maybe he knows I never stopped.
He exhales, slowly. “I get it now, Silas. Why you did what you did. Back then, I was… angry. Hurt. Thought you just didn’t want me enough. Or maybe I was just too much.” He pauses, voice dropping. “But I see it now. You were trying to keep me from burning up in the fallout. You thought walking away was the only way I’d get to keep my shot.”
I can’t look away. My throat is too tight to answer right away.
He shrugs, small and almost gentle. “I needed time to understand that. And I have. So… thank you. For loving me enough to let me go.”
The words steal the air from the room.
I open my mouth, close it again. Finally I manage, “I never wanted to leave you alone in that hospital. Never wanted to send that text. I just?—”
“I know,” he cuts in softly. No anger. No edge. Just quiet certainty. “I know.”
Another silence settles, warmer this time. As though the space between us is remembering how to breathe.
I clear my throat. “I, uh… I finished a sports psych certification. A couple days ago. Got the email confirmation today actually. It’s official.”
His eyebrows lift, surprise giving way to something softer—pride, maybe. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I rub my palms on my thighs, suddenly self-conscious. “Took longer than I thought. A lot of late nights. A lot of… figuring out who I am when I’m not coaching. Or screwing things up for other people.”
He smiles again, smaller this time, but real. “That’s huge, Silas. Really huge.”
I shrug, but the warmth in his voice makes it hard to play it off. “Feels like maybe I’m not completely broken anymore.”
“You were never broken,” he says. “Just…bent for a while.”
