After reconnecting with her these last few weeks, my focus is shifting. Changing. Football has always been the center of my life. It was everything. It’s been the default answer since before I can remember when people asked me what I wanted to do with my life.
It was always football.
What if that’s changed? What if it’s no longer the thing that drives me?
“We’d miss you, but home will always be here for you.” Mason clasps me on the shoulder, pulling me in for a quick hug.
“Since when did you become such an emotional sap?” I try to cut the tension with my brother.
“Fuck off. I’m not a sap.”
He totally is. And I love him for it.
“I’m glad to see you back to your old self. I hated not being there for you in the beginning—”
I cut him off. “It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. Just a freak thing that happened.”
“I’m glad you were here though. If anything happened to you and I wasn’t there…” His voice gets hard. Scratchy.
“I don’t know if I ever said thank you.”
“You didn’t have to. We’re family. It’s what we do.”
“Yeah,but you all did more for me than I could ever hope to repay. If it weren’t for you guys, I’d probably be some sad sack with a fucked-up leg drowning my sorrows at some seedy bar.”
“Given this a lot of thought?” Mason laughs.
There’s the big brother I love so much.
He pulls me in for another tight hug before I open the front door.
“We’re Winchesters. What did you think we’d do? Leave you on your own?”
“I’m lucky I have you guys.”
So fucking lucky. My family means more to me than I’ll ever be able to tell them.
This loud, crazy, interfering family is mine, and I love them like crazy.
And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
ChapterSeventeen
AUDREY
“How did everything manage to get so spread out?” I let out a frustrated scream to no one.
Packing up to leave is never fun. Not when I’m leaving the person I only just reconnected with.
I knew my time here wouldn’t be long. A way to train out of the spotlight. Being here has done more healing for me than I knew I needed.
Not only my leg, but my heart too.
Because things with Logan are different now. I held on to that anger for so long without even realizing it. Now that I know the real reason he left? It’s hard to stay mad at him.
I throw a few more of my things in my suitcase before doing one more visual sweep of the small room I’ve been staying in. There’s nothing to it. A small kitchen, a tiny living room with a loveseat, and a bedroom. Nothing to write home about. How has my stuff spread out so much in such a small space?
A knock at the door pulls my attention away.
