FAB: I’m fine, nothing hurts. Will attack again tomorrow.
ZLA: Glad to hear it.
She doesn’t push, doesn’t ask what happened. I should leave it there. Instead, my thumbs keep moving.
FAB: You’re distracting me, Golden Girl. The tabloids in Austria are speculating about us, you know.
ZLA: What????
FAB: You don’t have to worry, they cannot track you down. It’s safe. And I might have chased the vultures away, being direct in a Krone interview.
ZLA: Direct about what?
FAB: About us. Told them I was just coaching a friend. No affair.
I can almost see her staring at the screen, shaking her pretty head, golden hair falling forward while she thinks about what to text back.
ZLA: I’m sorry if I caused you problems.
ZLA: I’m sorry, I’m just a friend.
ZLA: I’m sorry for being a bad friend.
ZLA: But I’m not sorry for the affair.
Warmth settles in my chest when I read the last line. Unwelcome and pleasant at the same time.
FAB: Maybe you were right…
ZLA: About what?
FAB: About us. About how we should handle this.
ZLA: I know I was. I cost you focus. It shouldn’t be like this.
FAB: I’ll work it out.
I hesitate, hating every nerve cell in my brain that pushes me to type the next part.
FAB: See you, then? When I work it out When we both do?
The silence stretches. My heart does little somersaults in my ribcage.
ZLA: Perhaps. Hope so.
I read that last message three times, then let the phone drop onto the bed. For a long moment, I just sit there, staring at the ceiling. Everyone has had their say—Vincent, Thomas, thetabloids, Zlata. All with the same subtext: my head is not where it should be.
I grab the phone again, this time opening the team contact list instead of our chat. My thumb hovers over the number I’ve ignored all season: the staff mental coach. The one I always said I didn’t need.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I press call. When he picks up, I clear my throat.
“Hey. It’s Baier. Listen… do you have time on Monday? I think I need to work some things out.”
Chapter 16
Austrian Recovery
Saalbach, Austria
