Page 162 of Double Fault

Shit, the honesty stings, but I need to hear it. I nod. “I’m trying.”

I really am, but it certainly doesn’t show in my game.

After we hit the showers, we head back to the hotel. I’m grateful to have opted out of staying in the Olympic village. Since we arrived, I’ve heard nothing but complaints about the uncomfortable beds and the cramped quarters.

As I step into my suite, Ebba looks over from the couch, closing her laptop.

“How was she?”

“Perfect, like always.” She stands and gathers her things. Thank fuck for this woman. She’s been keeping Maddie company since Sabrina left. The idea of hiring another nanny makes me physically sick. “She’s in the shower and we just had dinner. You look tired.”

“Thank you,” I retort.

“I have some cream that’ll help with the bags under your eyes if you want it.”

That at least pulls a small laugh out of me. “I’m good. Have you… have you talked to her?”

“Not much.” She shrugs. “She’s sad, and talking to us hurts too much right now.”

I clench my teeth but nod.

At the door, Ebba turns and assesses me. “You’re actually a pretty good guy, Noah.”

That gets a real laugh out of me. “Thanks, I think.”

“What? You’re my brother’s biggest rival. For the longest time, I thought you were a prick, but you’re really not so bad.”

With that, she’s gone.

Yawning, I tidy up a bit, stacking coloring books, putting markers in a plastic box, and collecting the bottles of nail polish on the coffee table. Then I change into loungewear and check my phone.

Nothing from Sabrina.

It hurts, knowing she’s putting a wall between us.

Yes, when she left, I told her I didn’t know what would happen with us. I said it because it’s true and because I didn’t want to give her false hope. There’s no way to know what either of us can or can’t handle.

She’ll probably ignore me, but I shoot off a message anyway.

Me: How was your day?

I toss my phone on the bed in the hopes that I won’t be tempted to stare at it, but when it lights up a second later, I practically dive for the thing. If Fisher were here, he’d give me shit about my reaction time and why I couldn’t have been that quick at training.

Sabrina: Boring. Yours?

Me: Lonely.

Sabrina: I doubt that.

Me: I sucked at training today. I think you’re my good luck charm.

She doesn’t respond right away, and I fear I might’ve scared her off.

Out in the main area, a door opens and closes. “Ebba? Where are you?”

I step out of the bedroom and pocket my phone. “Mads, I’m back.”

“Oh.” My little girl holds out her Disney princess brush. “Could you brush my hair?”

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