I kicked out, rode him wide, felt his momentum carry him past the launch point. The ball left clean. Completion.
By the fourth quarter, my thighs burned, and my lungs screamed, but my head was clear. No parents. No courts. No fear. Just the man across from me and the space I refused to give up.
Fourth-and-one. One-score game.
I lined up and locked eyes with the defender across from me. He smiled like he thought this was his moment.
The snap came, and I exploded forward, hands locked, hips driving. He went backward. The pile surged.
First down.
The clock bled out after that. Whistle. Noise. Helmets coming off. Arms around shoulders. Quinn shouting something I couldn’t understand. Jordan grinning like we’d stolen something.
I jogged off the field, chest heaving, sweat dripping off my chin. I didn’t play my cleanest game, but it was one of my best. All I wanted now was home.
The flight back felt endless,even with Em’s messages about how amazing I played and how Miles had cheered for me during the game. The kid smiled so hard, and it caused my chest to ache with how much I missed him, missed them.
Pride swelled in my chest.
I pictured walking through the door, pulling her into my arms, finally asking the question that had been sitting on my tongue all day.
When I unlocked the apartment, the lights were on despite it being so damn late. My stomach dropped. My senses went into overdrive. The lights shouldn’t be on. Everyone should be asleep. Em should be in my bed waiting for me. But she wasn’t.
Em sat on the couch, hands folded in her lap, a bag at her feet. Daniel stood nearby, arms crossed, jaw tight. My chest went cold.
“Hey,” I said slowly.
She looked up, her beautiful blue eyes filling with tears. The sound she made when she breathed in broke me before she said a word. It wasn’t a sob or a gasp, just a small, shaky inhale like she’d been holding herself together with sheer force and my voice had snapped the last thread.
“Hey,” I said again, softer this time, like volume was the problem. I took a step forward without thinking, then stopped when her shoulders tensed. That tiny reaction hit hard. Why would she flinch fromme?
Daniel shifted beside the couch, eyes flicking between us. He looked like he wanted to disappear and also like he’d punch something if it moved wrong. “I’m gonna—” he started, then stopped, jaw tightening. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
He retreated, giving us space that felt too big and too small at the same time.
I dropped my bag by the door and took another step toward her, slower now, more careful. “Em,” I said, my voice rough. “What’s going on?”
She wiped at her cheeks with the heel of her hand, already shaking her head. “I’m so proud of you,” she said suddenly, the words tumbling out wrong and fast. “You played so well. Miles wouldn’t stop cheering. He kept saying, ‘That’s my uncle’ and I—” Her voice cracked. She pressed her lips together hard, like she was trying to shove everything back down.
My chest started to burn.
“Em,” I repeated, firmer now. “Why is your bag packed? Where are you going?”
Her gaze dropped to the floor. She stared at her hands, a completely lost expression on her face, fingers twisting together until her knuckles went pale. “I can’t stay,” she said quietly.
“What do you mean…you can’t stay?” My words came out flat, like my brain was buying time. “Your stuff is here. You live here. With me.”
She flinched. “That’s the problem,” she whispered.
Something cold slid down my spine. I took another step forward despite myself, crouching in front of her so we were eye level. I didn’t touch her. I didn’t trust my hands. “Talk to me,” I said. “Please.”
She looked at me then, really looked at me, and I saw it all at once. The fear. The resolve. The heartbreak she’d already decided to carry. She’d made her decision.
“They came to the shop today,” she said.
The room tilted.
“My parents?” I asked, even though I could guess. My jaw locked so tightly it hurt.
