Page 120 of Between Love and War
Katie: It's the thought that counts, right?
Michael (Me): That's what people say when the result is unspeakable
She reacts with a laugh emoji, but doesn’t respond for a while, so I start cleaning up the trays. My phone buzzes, and I see her text.
Katie: BTW, I'm going to your game. With Dan.
Katie: Just as friends! Also, we'll be in the upper box so you won't really see. Just wanna say good luck!
There’s a faint ringing in my ears. Dan. The single dad with the polite voice. The rational option. The one with the kid in Kate’s class. Safe. Settled. Already part of her world. Already good with kids. Already everything I’m not.Fora second, I hate him. He hasn’t done anything wrong, but he fits where I don’t. I can picture her life with him too easily.
I try to reply as kindly as my stupid heart allows me.
Michael: No way are you gonna sit in the upper box. Upgrading you to VIP. Bring everyone.
I actually hope she brings everyone. All her friends. The whole neighborhood. A wall of people with her and Dan so it really won’t be a date. I picture her laughing with them in the stands, leaning over to share inside jokes, her eyes bright in the stadium lights. In that version, Dan is just… background noise. A name on the guest list. A footnote.
I pretend that’s why I’m doing it. Because I’m generous. Because I want her to have the best view, the best night, the best version of the game.
But the truth is uglier and simpler. I’m still human. Still jealous. Still in love with Katie in that sharp, unshakable way that makes you a little bit selfish and a little bit petty.
Katie: You don't have to...
Katie: But thanks. Richard would flip out. And... I'm proud of you. Good luck, champ.
Michael (Me): Thanks, Miss Noodles. See you there :)
I stare at her name on the screen long after the conversation ends. I tell myself I’m glad she’s coming. That I’m grateful. That it’s enough just to see her from the court. Maybe it would inspire me. Or distract me. Whatever.
Trish helps me clean up. In the city, I live in a 3-bedroom condo with the view of the city. I asked them to stay here until the Comeback game. I didn’t wanna be alone. And the person I really wanna be with can’t be here too. So her, Polly, and her husband Peter are staying over for a few more days.
“You okay?” Trish asks as she catches me staring at the wall again.
“Yeah, just… big game, that’s all.”
“Michael. You’ve played in three SEA Games. This isn’t game nerves.” She’s right.
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” I start. “About how long I’ve been… closed off. Even before the scandal.”
Trish stops wiping the cutlery. “I’ve been waiting for this conversation.” She takes a wine glass and pours herself a drink. “Please, continue.”
I chuckle, but I sit on the counter with her. “Ever since I remember, I’ve been so focused on being useful. When we lived with grandma and both of you were doing everything to help us survive, I thought I couldn’t just sit around and wait. So I lookedfor ways to be useful. Until useful turned to strong. And being strong turned to being unshakeable.”
She takes a sip of wine but doesn’t interrupt.
“I thought if I was excellent, I wouldn’t need anything else. And every time the thought of wanting something more comes into mind, I push it away because I thought it was selfish and ungrateful.”
Trish puts her wine glass down.
I let out a breath and lean forward. “But then one of the assistant coaches got married. And during his wedding speech, he said something like, ‘I can’t let my whole life revolve around the court anymore.’ And I laughed at the time. But it stuck.”
My voice cracks a little. “It was the first time I let myself ask… what would my life look like without basketball? And I couldn’t answer. I had nothing.”
She lets out a breath. “That’s a heavy thing to realize.”
“I didn’t even let myself feel how scary it was. I just buried it under more drills, more hours at the gym, more silence. Then that ref pushed the wrong button, and everything I’d been avoiding finally exploded.”
Trish nods. “And then…” I start, already knowing what she’ll say.
