Austin lets out a soft laugh. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, bro.”
“I hope not.”
“No, seriously. Doesn’t look like she wants space anymore.”
“What?”
I follow his line of sight, and there she is.
Perched in the VIP box like she owns the damn thing with her legs propped on the railing, her pink hair pulled up onto her head, blue eyes locked on mine.
A slow grin tugs at the corner of my mouth.
Two days.
And she’s still choosing me.
INDY
It’s been two days since my world as I knew it imploded.
I can’t remember a time where Dylan and I went more than a few days without talking. Silence between us only ever happened when he was out of the country, stubbornly refusing to upgrade his phone plan to include international. Even then, our brief moments of silence were always filled with promises of photos and stories the second he returned.
Growing up, we were inseparable, two peas in the same pod, with inside jokes and a secret language only siblings could understand. Dylan’s always been my rock and my best friend.
Now, knowing how infuriated he is with me, not knowing when we’ll see each other again or I’ll hear his voice…
It’s like grieving someone who’s still alive.
I called him that night, right after Gareth left, hoping we could have a civil conversation. I thought if I could just make Dylan understand…
But he didn’t answer.
Not the first call.
Or the second.
My texts sat unread. Each one a painful reminder that he was choosing not to speak to me.
I never thought I’d actually lose him, but I know loving Gareth means accepting I won’t have my brother in my life. And no matter how much that breaks me, I can’t walk away from Gareth.
I won’t.
He owns every part of my heart, body, mind, and soul. Every breath, every thought. They’re all for him.
And two days without seeing him has felt like being dragged underwater without knowing how to swim. The guilt weighs me down, but it’s the longing for Gareth holding me under.
It doesn’t have to be like this, though—I’m the one who asked for space.
I’m the one who asked for time to think.
I’m done needing space.
The drive to Coit Stadium is long, the road stretching endlessly in front of me. Anticipation coils tight inside of me, so fiercely it feels like I might burst. Fingers turning white on the steering wheel. Knee bouncing.
When I finally pull into the private lot reserved for players and staff, my entire body is shaking. Nerves and excitement twist together, crashing into me and making me dizzy.
The sickening thought—question—swirling through my mind.
