CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Tristan
I make the decision before I can talk myself out of it.
Not in some big, dramatic way.
No speech. No moment.
Just… a quiet shift.
A line I draw in my own head.
Enough.
I came here for basketball.
For my degree.
To build something real—not chase ghosts from high school or get tangled in something that’s already burned once.
Stella made her choice.
Now I make mine.
It starts small.
That afternoon, I text Isa first.
Dinner? Somewhere that doesn’t serve protein shakes.
Three dots.
Then—
Isa:Finally. I thought I was gonna have to kidnap you.
I smirk.
Yeah.
This is easier.
We go off campus.
Not a party. Not the athlete dining hall.
A real place.
Soft lighting. Warm wood. The kind of restaurant where the music hums low and no one’s yelling over beer pong.
Isa shows up ten minutes late.
On purpose.
I know that the second I see her.
She walks in like she owns the room—long tan legs, fitted white dress that hugs everything it should, hair blown out smooth and glossy like she just stepped out of a campaign shoot.
