Page 94 of Verdict

I shoved the thought away. I was the one who firmly locked our friendship boundary back into place. I didn’t have the right to think like that.

We hadn't spoken much about what the future looked like for his career. He seemed to love the Aviators, but outside of Ellie, he had nothing else tying him to the city, and with how much he already traveled, a different home base wouldn't change much. We could make long-distance co-parenting work. We had the resources—my brother-in-law had a private jet. Cohen was thirty, so maybe five or six more years in the league. It wouldn't be forever.

Or at least that was what I kept telling myself as I began drafting the term sheet. I felt like I was personally handing him his ticket out of Austin. Because why would he stay? Outside of Ellie, I hadn't given him any reason to. This was the best move for his career. Boston was a dream team for most players, and that kind of money was a lot to walk away from. I wanted the best for Cohen, and on paper, Boston was the best.

When the term sheet was finalized, I hovered my mouse over the send button, reluctant to click it. My eyes stung, my heart was lodged in my throat, my chest tight. Were my palms sweating? I hit send and quickly swiped at the tear that escaped. I cleared my throat and immediately squared my shoulders.

Get your shit together, Ava. You're stronger than this.

I stared at the screen long after the email disappeared, like if I looked hard enough I could pull it back. Undo it. Pretend I hadn’t just sent the man I—

I squeezed my eyes shut. Nope, don’t go there. This was my job. This was what I was good at.

Numbers. Contracts. Structure. Control.

I’d built my entire career on making decisions like this—clean, logical, unemotional. So why did this one feel like I’d just signed something away instead?

My fingers hovered over my keyboard, useless now. There was nothing left to draft. Nothing left to revise. The decision was out of my hands.

My stomach twisted, I hated this feeling. I hated not knowing. I hated the waiting… and I hated that for once, there was nothing I could do to control the outcome. Because this wasn’t just a contract—this was his life… this was my life.

I pushed back from my desk, dragging a hand down my face. Boston was the right choice. The offers, side by side… it wasn’t even close. Boston had a better roster, more money, and, not to mention, a real shot at another ring next year. It was everything he deserved.

But I felt like I just helped him walk out of my life.

I glanced at the clock. I still had enough time to finish up Damon's contract before picking up Ellie. I pulled up his contract. The words blurred together as I stared at the screen, but my mind was locked on Christmas.

I’d told myself the bracelet I had made for him was a peace offering. A way to reset us. To remind him we were partners in this. I’d called it a peace offering, but maybe it had been a way to choose him. Without admitting I was choosing him. His reaction to the gift was worth it. The way his eyes lit up when he gently traced Ellie's initials etched into the wood with his fingertips. How uncomfortable he got accepting a gift, as if no one had ever given him something without motive.

I remembered the way he’d handed me that photo he had gotten me, like it was nothing. But it was everything. It was us, together, as a family.

Family—I haven't had a family Christmas since my mom passed.

I’d caught the word immediately that night. Was that what we were? That word undid me, and I had opened up to Cohen in a way I hadn't with anyone in a long time. He’d listened without interrupting, empathy steady in his eyes. He’d comforted me… and then… he’d kissed me.

I brushed my fingertips over my lips, as if I could still feel his against mine. I would never get tired of kissing him, but he wasn't mine, and this Boston deal was even further proof I’d made the right call in stopping us before we’d got started Christmas night.

Boston cemented that friendship was safer.

But I couldn’t stop wondering—would his decision be different if I hadn’t stopped him that night?

After putting Ellie down for the night, I grabbed a glass of wine and my laptop. I settled down onto my couch and took a large sip before opening my computer. I’d sent the term sheet to Lane only four hours ago, but I was still hoping we’d hear something from Cohen’s agent tonight. I clicked open my email.

Nothing. Dammit.

I grabbed the remote and started scrolling, looking for something—anything—to distract me. My eyes drifted back to my laptop… and I refreshed my email again.

Nothing.

I pushed off the couch. Maybe a bath would settle my nerves. Worth a shot. Once the tub was filled, I added some lavender bath salts and bubbles before slipping inside. Yup, this was what I needed to relax. I took a sip of wine, turned some music on from my phone, and let my eyes fall closed.

I lasted maybe ten minutes before I refreshed my email on my phone.

And still nothing.

I stared at the screen like something might magically appear if I waited long enough. Cohen's decision, a note from his agent that he was considering our offer… anything.

My grip tightened around my phone.