“Next week? We can work out a schedule that doesn’t interfere with your training.”
“Thank you. Really. This is—thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Just one condition.”
“What?”
“You keep following your treatment plan exactly. No pushing the ankle before it’s ready. If you’re going to work here, you have to model good recovery practices.”
“Deal.” She stands, tests her weight on the ankle, nods satisfied. “I’ll see you next week then.”
“Next week.”
She leaves, and I’m updating her file when my phone chimes.
Roman
Rodriguez is an idiot.
What did he do now?
Roman
Asked Jake if figure skaters are “usually that hot or is it just her.”
And Jake said?
Roman
That Rodriguez should probably stop asking people about the woman who told him to stop following her around.
Sound advice.
Roman
He’s not going to take it.
Probably not.
I set my phone down and look around my new office. Director of Sports Medicine and Recovery. Juliette starting as an intern next week. The team healthy, Winters gone, my mom’s wind chime pendant warm against my chest.
It’s not perfect. It’s not fixed. I still miss my mom every day. Roman still has therapy every Thursday. We’re both still learning how to carry our grief.
But we’re doing it together.
And somehow, that makes all the difference.
MARNIE
One Year Later
“I’m just saying,the boat scene was completely unrealistic,” Sarah argues, refilling her wine glass. “There’s no way they had sex on a kayak without capsizing.”
“It was a canoe,” Elliot corrects.
“Same difference.”
“It’s really not.” Goldie’s curled up in the corner of her sectional, looking tired but happy. Her and Dex’s baby, Blaire, is almost four months old and she’s already over it, according to her texts. “Canoes are wider. More stable.”
