Page 145 of The Backup Plan

“I just need one more season,” he says, softer now. “One more so I can go out on top instead of the man limping away injured. Just one. Let me have that. Then I’ll walk away. I swear.”

“I don’t know if your shoulder will hold that long.”

“Fine. But that’s my decision to make.”

The worst part? In some respects, his point is completely valid. The Rebels offered Lucas a contract and then finalized him on the roster without consulting me for scan results or future issues. Is the situation as cut and dried as Lucas is suggesting? If he’s playing well enough that he was selected, does it matter about the ticking time bomb beneath the skin and muscle?

But just because they didn’t ask you, doesn’t mean you’re not bound by your own employment contract not to say anything.

Probationary contract, actually.

Would a permanent offer be pulled if they found out I wasn’t completely forthcoming?

Silence stretches between us, thick with everything I know. With everything I’ve been trained to do. Every protocol. Every oath to do no harm. Every line I’ve sworn I’d never cross.

And every part of me that loves the man beside me.

I stare at the ceiling until it blurs, while my mind runs in circles I can’t escape.

When I finally speak, my voice is barely audible. Almost like I’m afraid of the ramifications from any words I do say.

“I can’t lie,” I say. “I can’t pretend the scans say something they don’t. I can’t promise you something I don’t believe in.”

He moves his hand out of mine, but I reach for it, grab it back, and turn on my side to face him. We’ve spent this whole conversation staring at the ceiling, almost as if it’s easier to be honest that way. Now, he can’t escape me.

Now he’s forced to hear what I have to say.

“But,” I continue as his eyes meet mine. My chest aches with love and conflict. “I also don’t have to relay what the long-term ramifications are just yet.” Because he’s also right. It is his choice what he does with his body, and his skill ensured he was drafted. While those words might feel like triumph to him, they feel like betraying my moral code to me. “I can do everything in my power to make your shoulder hurt less, to manage what I can. To protect you as much as possible while you make your choices.”

That’s all I can give him.

Even if it eats me alive inside.

He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “This is on me, Emery. I’m the one choosing to do this. I’m the one asking for your help. Whatever happens—the burden is mine to carry.”

I close my eyes and draw in a shaky breath.

My oath is to do no harm.

And yet here I am, standing in the space between truth and love, knowing there is no version where one of them doesn’t destroy me.

Fuck.

Lucas

The place hums like it normally does—with laughter and music and noise. There’s no way it can’t when there are this many people in one place all working toward a common goal.

That’s why I’m not worried about perception when I stand in the doorway of Emery’s office and wait for her to finish talking on the phone.

“Yes. It’s a proposal I’m writing on how to improve the medical and PT side of the program.” She looks up and startles when she sees me standing here. She lifts a finger for me to wait a minute as her smile widens. “Exactly. Prevention is the key goal, so any input from your experience is welcome.” She pauses and writes something down. “I truly appreciate and will look forward to getting the email.”

The call wraps up and the minute she ends the call, she sinks back into her chair.

“More proposal research?”

She nods. “Yes. My mentor from my fellowship—”

“Mirna, right?” She’s told me so many names of people without me ever seeing faces, so fingers crossed I got that right.