“Does your mom know you’re here, smart guy?” I ask.
“Yep. She said I could help Rick today instead of going to school.”
I shake my head. “You two are a reckless pair.”
He grins wider. “We are. Probably good for you to know that now. In case you want to make a clean getaway.”
I meet his gaze and hold it. “I’m not going anywhere. If that’s okay with you.”
He nods quickly. “It is.”
“Good. You hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“What do you say we track down your mom and grab some lunch before I head to the airport?”
Sam’s face brightens. “Can we drive you?”
“Yeah,” I say easily. “I’d like that.”
He hops down from the table and shrugs into his coat. I notice the back of his Otters shirt for the first time.
MICHAELS 06
“Did Ben give you that?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He rolls his eyes in a way that’s already become familiar. “I keep telling him he’s not my favourite player, but he refuses to accept reality.”
I smile. “Want to mess with him?”
His eyes light up instantly. “Always.”
“I’ll grab you a Crawford shirt on our way out. You can wear it to the airport.”
Sam bursts out laughing. “He’s going to lose his mind. Let’s do it.”
We talk the entire walk to the physiotherapy room. Five months ago, I never would’ve believed this kind of easy conversation was possible. I’m starting to understand that I don’t need to be perfect for him. I just need to be present. To be myself. To show up.
When we step inside, Elliot looks up from her table. The moment she sees us together her already beautiful face transforms into something luminous. More breathtaking than any sunrise I’ve ever seen.
“We’re taking you to lunch,” Sam announces, “and then we’re taking Arthur to the airport.”
“If that’s okay,” I add.
She glances at Sam, then back at me, her smile soft and certain. “It’s perfect.”
We lace our fingers together as we head toward the merch boutique, Sam animatedly filling his mom in on the plan to prank Ben.
My phone rings and I pull it from my pocket.
My father’s name flashes across the screen.
For the first time, there’s no familiar spike of dread. No tension. Just…nothing.
“Do you need to take that?” Elliot asks gently.
I watch the screen for a beat, then hit decline. I open my contacts, find his name, and block the number. There’s no second-guessing. No guilt.
