Page 95 of Verdict

Four hours—that wasn’t long in the grand scheme of contract negotiations. I knew that. Deals like this took time; there usually was some back-and-forth. But this didn’t feel like a negotiation; it felt like a countdown. Every hour that passed was one step closer to him leaving.

My stomach was in knots, my lungs felt tight. I groaned, dropping my head against the tub in frustration. I just wanted to know what was going to happen. I needed to know. I needed to begin mentally preparing myself for Cohen to leave. But I would be fine, right? This fear, this dread, was all because I thrived on routine, on being in control. And right now, I was anything but.

I only lasted another ten minutes in the tub before deciding to get out and call it a night. In the time it took me to get out of the tub and climb into bed, I checked my email at least five more times.

As I began to drift off to sleep, I assured myself I would surely know something by tomorrow.

I knew nothing the following day. Or several days after that. And I’d be lying if I said the silence wasn’t starting to feel like an answer.

I was staring at my email, willing an update to come through, when I spotted Lane walking by my office. "Lane!" I called out, grabbing his attention. He stopped mid-stride, backed up, and entered my office.

"Good morning, Ava. What's up?"

"Any word from Scott yet? It's been four days." I tried to keep my tone neutral and failed.

"Not yet. But that's a good thing. They're thinking. We want thinking, we don't want an immediate no."

I nodded. "Right."

He smiled and disappeared from my office to wherever he’d originally been headed. What I wanted to say, but didn't, was that silence also meant he was considering Boston. If he weren't, we would have heard by now.

My phone vibrated against my desk, sending my heart racing. I grabbed it, hoping for a text from Cohen, but it was a text from Addison. My heart sank. I set it back down.

He hadn’t said anything, not a word. Not about Boston, not about the offer, not about what he was thinking. I had seen Cohen briefly since our offer was sent, but he’d given nothing away. We’d made the usual small talk around our daughter and talked about insignificant things. Our friendship had still been solid since Christmas… as if our future wasn't hanging in the balance.

Our future.

Because it wasn’t just his future. If he left, mine shifted too. Co-parenting would become complicated. The logistics would change. The routine we’d built would fracture. Cohen had continued to be radio silent in the matter, and as much as I wanted his answer now, to just tell me where his head was at, he didn't owe me anything. I wasn't his girlfriend; we weren't committed. And I told myself that made sense—this was his career, his decision, and I didn’t get a say in it. I hadn’t earned one.

But still…

I couldn’t help the way it stung. This decision was solely his, and I was just at the mercy of it. I felt completely out of control, which was a place I hated to be. I picked up my phone and texted Addison that I’d be in Primrose Hill tomorrow.

I needed horse therapy. I couldn't keep sitting in this.

Addison was out of town at a horse show with a few of her clients, leaving Mountain Laurel Farm wonderfully quiet. My parents were more than thrilled to spend some time with Ellie so I could ride.

After tacking up Bentley, I led him toward the mounting block. I swung my leg over and settled into the saddle, peace settling over me almost instantly. Being in a saddle grounded me in a way nothing else could. I directed Bentley toward the trail that wound down to the river, cutting through Addison and Dean’s property. I breathed in the cool winter air, the breeze sharp but refreshing. When we reached the river, I loosened the reins and let Bentley graze. I patted his silvery neck, running my fingers through his onyx mane as my thoughts drifted back to Cohen.

I thought again of how co-parenting would become complicated. How logistics would need to be figured out, and how we would have to establish a new routine. But that wasn't what was bothering me. I could handle all of that.

What I didn't think I could handle was losing him. Losing him laughing with Ellie, looking at her like she was the center of his universe. Losing the quiet, ordinary moments that had slowly become part of my life.

This didn’t feel like friendship.

Friendship wasn’t overwhelming and all-consuming. It wasn’t this constant awareness of someone, even when they weren’t there. The need to be around them all the time. This was something else.

Bentley lifted his head from the grass, flicking an ear back toward me, like he could feel the shift in my mood. He turned his neck, bumping his nose lightly against my boot, offering quiet comfort.

I exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand along his neck. "Thanks, bud."

The realization settled in slowly, heavy and undeniable. If Cohen left… it would break something in me.

Was that love?

I’d never been in love before. But I had also never felt anything like this. Boston was an incredible opportunity for him. A dream team. The kind of contract players waited their whole careers for.

And if I truly loved him…