Please, God… give me strength.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
As Cole spoke with them, Ben kept an eye on the table through the gym doors. He hoped that he’d have a few minutes to chat with Amelia before the clinic started.
He felt bad that she was experiencing more pain and exhaustion that day. It was a struggle sometimes to remember just how up and down Amelia’s health could be.
Ben thought that she tried to appear as normal as possible so people wouldn’t suspect how she was truly feeling. Hopefully she’d realize that she didn’t need to be that way with him.
He wanted to be someone she could rely on without hesitation, someone who understood that some days were better than others.
The kiss they'd shared on the boat had been playing in his mind constantly, a reminder of what they once had and a hint of what they might have again.
Ben glanced at his watch, noting there were still fifteen minutes before the clinic was scheduled to start.
He listened politely as Cole continued talking about some of the kids' progress, but his attention kept drifting to the empty table. Usually, she was there already.
Even though they’d only communicated through texts that day, there had been something in the interaction that had concerned Ben. She’d just seemed… down.
Maybe he was just reading into things.
When Cole finished his talk, Ben made his way out of the gym, happy to see that Amelia was now at the table handing out name tags to the teens. It didn’t take her long to finish that, and soon the last teen left to head into the gym.
"Hey there," Ben said as he approached, his gaze sweeping over her face.
She looked tired. The shadows under her eyes were more pronounced, and there was a tightness around her mouth that he recognized as her trying to hide pain.
"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, leaning against the table. She’d told him her levels on the phone, but he still needed to ask.
Amelia glanced up at him, a small smile on her face despite the weariness in her eyes. "I'm here."
"That's not what I asked," Ben said gently.
She sighed, her fingers absently straightening the few remaining tags on the table. Her gaze flicked up to his for a moment.
“Like I said in the text, seven for pain, eight for exhaustion.”
“Did something happen to trigger the increase?” Ben asked. “Your levels weren’t as high yesterday.”
She shifted her attention to her laptop and opened it as she said, “Sometimes that’s just the way it is. My health can be unpredictable. Sometimes I can pinpoint what makes things worse, and sometimes I can’t.”
“I’m sorry you have to live like that,” Ben said, wishing he’d asked for a level for her emotional state because she seemed very down. “I’m sure that must be very hard.”
“It is,” she admitted. “Making plans is always iffy.”
Before Ben could respond, he heard a whistle blow. “I gotta go. I’ll see you at the break.”
As he walked backward toward the gym, she gave him another small smile. He winked at her, then turned to join the others in the gym.
There were a few fresh faces in the group that week, which kept things interesting. Unfortunately, a couple of the teens didn’t seem to appreciate that the clinics weren’t just about basketball.
In the previous weeks, the kids had been willing to sit and listen to what Cole wanted to share with them, in addition to playing basketball. His ability to make his interactions with the teens interesting and engaging each day was admirable.
Cole wasn’t the only person who shared with the teens. The other men who’d come to help with the clinic also shared their testimonies. Ben’s admiration for all of them had grown during their time together.
But that day, two of the teens were being perpetually disruptive and outright rude, making Ben wonder why they were even there.
Just before the break, Cole gathered everyone around him and had them sit on the floor so he could speak to them. Ben left the gym to help Amelia set up the snacks.
