“Yes,” she answers immediately.
No hesitation.
He nods once.
“Ok.”
“That’s it?” Lisa asks.
“That’s not it,” he says.“I’m still processing.”
“Fair enough.”
“But if you’re serious,” he continues, looking at both of us now instead of just one of us,“then I trust you.”
Something in my chest settles immediately. His words matter more than I expected them to. More than the game. More than the injury. More than anything else that happened this week.
“You’re still not allowed to break his other shoulder,” Lisa tells him.
“No promises,” Zane replies.
“I’m right here,” I remind both of them.
“We know,” they say at the same time.
And somehow, even sitting in a hospital bed with half my arm wrapped in tape and gauze, it feels like everything landed exactly where it was supposed to.
Chapter 24
Lisa
I don’t tell Blake where I’m going.
Not because I want to hide anything from him, and not because I think he wouldn’t understand why I need to do this, but because if he knew I was planning to walk straight into a conversation with James Perth less than forty-eight hours after surgery to put his shoulder back together, he would try to stop me. I can’t have anybody stop me anymore.
For too long, my life has bent itself around James in quiet ways that were hard to explain even to myself while they were happening, small compromises that didn’t feel like compromises at the time, small silences that didn’t feel like silence until I looked back and realized how much of myself I had been shrinking just to make room for him.
And I am done shrinking. Completely done. Which is why I’m standing outside the entrance of the Hawks’training facility on a grey Chicago afternoon that smells faintly like rain. I’m staring at the glass doors like they might open on their own if I wait long enough.
“They won’t open themselves,” Leo says calmly beside me.
I didn’t even hear him approach.
“I wasn’t waiting for them to,” I reply automatically.
“You were,” he says.
He’s not wrong. Leo doesn’t ask me if I’m sure about this. He doesn’t tell me I shouldn’t be here. He doesn’t suggest Blake should be the one having this conversation instead. He just stands beside me with his hands in his coat pockets like this is another meeting he already scheduled three steps ahead of everyone else.
“Ready?” he asks.
“No,” I admit.
“Good,” he replies.“That usually means it matters.”
“What are you even doing here?” I ask, and Leo smiles.
“Helping a friend,” he shrugs before he keeps walking.
