Before either of them could respond, before Ridge could crack a joke or Talon could try to soften it, I rushed on. If I stopped now, I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish.
“She has options,” I continued, voice low but even. “Financial security. A future that doesn’t hinge on prize money or sponsorships or whether my body holds up another season.” I swallowed hard. “And I keep thinking … if I wasn’t enough for Amelia, how could I ever be enough for someone like Roxie?”
Talon stayed silent, his expression unreadable, like he was choosing his words carefully.
“Have you actually asked her what she wants?” he said finally.
I let out a hollow laugh. “No. That would require us not fighting long enough to have a conversation, one that I don’t know if I’m ready to have.”
“Well,” Talon said, standing back up, “without talking to her, you’re letting ghosts make decisions for you.”
Easy for him to say.
I shook my head. “This isn’t real. It can’t be. We built rules. Boundaries.”
“And you’re breaking them,” Ridge said. “Which means maybe the rules don’t fit anymore.”
That thought lodged deep in my chest, uncomfortable and dangerous.
Coach Saunders yelled for me and Ridge to get back to work, breaking up our conversation.
And though practice resumed, my focus didn’t fully come back. Every stroke felt heavier, slower.
Because the truth was, I didn’t just want Roxie.
I trusted her.
And I didn’t know where that left me.
So by the time I slid into bed beside her that night,the space felt charged. And although we’d both been busy, we’d also been avoiding each other. Or maybe that was just me.
She turned onto her side, facing me.
“Ledger?” she asked, her voice soft.
“Yeah?”
“About last night …” She hesitated. “We should probably talk about it.”
My heart kicked hard against my ribs.
“Yeah,” I said. “We probably should.”
But neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke.
The line was right there between us. Literally, if you counted the pillow wall.
And suddenly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay on my side of it.
CHAPTER 18
LEDGER
Ifound out on a Tuesday morning in mid-May.
No fanfare. No dramatic phone call. Just an email sitting in my inbox when I checked my phone between sets at the pool.
The sender was USA Swimming letting me know I’d been accepted to the US National Championships, the qualifying meet I needed to make it to Worlds.
