Ben’s stomach clenched, knowing what that meant for an elite athlete like Amelia. She’d worked so hard to attain the highest level of jumps with consistency. To lose the ability to do them must have been crushing.
“Lexi got frustrated with me, and I couldn’t seem to explain to her what was going on. It didn’t make sense to her because it didn’t make sense to me.”
That revelation gave Ben a bit of insight into the fractured relationship between skater and coach.
“I tried to train more throughout the summer, but it was a struggle. Doctors did a few tests, but nothing showed up. So every day, I got up hoping that that might be the day I’d be able to jump again and that spinning wouldn’t leave me off-balance. But it never got any better.”
Ben could hear the despair in her voice, and he knew how deeply that struggle must have hurt her. To have lost control of her body in that way.
“I’m just thankful that it started at the end of the season. It meant that these issues didn’t interfere with any competitions. I would have hated to end the season falling all over the place.” She paused, the silence heavy, then cleared her throat. “I had no choice but to announce my retirement before the start of the next season.”
“Was Lexi on board with that decision?”
Amelia’s hesitation before she answered told Ben all he needed to know.
“She didn’t understand why I couldn’t just get over it, especially when the tests weren’t revealing any problems.”
“I’m really sorry that you’ve had to deal with all this, Amelia.”
Her gaze met his for a moment, then drifted away again. He wondered if she regretted telling him so much.
“Just so you know, I won’t be upset if there’s nothing your company can do for me.”
It pained Ben that she was so willing to accept disappointment. That told him that she’d experienced enough of it that she no longer got her hopes up.
He wished he could guarantee they’d be able to help her. To give her some new medication that would ease the pain and give her her old life back. But it wasn’t possible, and the last thing he wanted to do was give her false hope.
If he were meeting her for the first time, he would have had no clue that she was dealing with so much.
Was that true for others? Did they wonder if she was really telling the truth because her health struggles weren’t clearly obvious the way a broken leg might be?
He realized then that if she didn’t come to trust him with her true reality each day, he’d never know for certain how she was really feeling. That felt wrong on so many levels.
He wanted to be there to help her. To support her on the days when she was struggling the most.
Something came to life deep inside him. A longing to be the one she could rely on. Day or night. Good or bad.
The problem was that he didn’t think she was looking for a person to fill that position in her life. And even if she was, it most likely wouldn’t be him.
But there was no harm in doing what he could to help her in the time he was there.
CHAPTER TEN
Amelia crumpled the napkin in her fist, its texture rough against her fingers.
It was a beautiful evening. The temperature was warm, but the slight breeze in the air kept it from being too hot. The scent of nature was more apparent now that the aroma of their food had diminished.
If only she didn’t have the thrum of pain running through her body. And if only she hadn’t told Ben everything, bringing him into the very small circle of people she’d trusted with the full details of her health struggles.
She could have used the excuse that his company might be able to help her, but the truth was something else had prompted her to tell him even more than he probably needed to know.
It was something she might come to regret if he started looking at her with pity in his eyes. She didn’t think she could handle that.
Thankfully, she hadn't seen pity in Ben's expression yet, just concern. But maybe that would change now that he knew how weak she truly was. She no longer viewed herself as the strong person she’d once been, so it was likely that he would also see her as weak.
It felt inevitable, and she wanted that moment of pity to reveal itself sooner rather than later, so she had a definite reason to keep Ben at arm’s length.
"Oh," Ben said suddenly, "I almost forgot." He reached into a bag that rested beside him on the bench of the picnic table and pulled out a bag of small, individually wrapped chocolate almond bars. "I picked these up for you. You used to love them."
