Page 38 of Lighting the Lamp
“And we keep you humble,” I add, nudging his arm.
“You’re all bullies,” he mutters, though he’s clearly enjoying every second.
I loop an arm around Auntie Mel’s. “But seriously, Coop, congrats. That was one hell of a win.”
He gives me a warm smile, more genuine this time. “Thanks, Alise. We needed it.”
“I know,” I say, my voice low.
He looks at me a beat longer, then glances toward the locker room. Just like that, the weight sitting in the center of my chest creeps back in. “Hey… where’s Beau?”
The change in his posture is subtle, but I catch it. Cooper’s shoulders tense almost imperceptibly. “Yeah, he just wanted a few minutes of peace before coming out.”
Auntie Mel chuckles. “I can only imagine how loud it was inside the locker room after the game. If it was anything like the chaos that was happening out here, I’m not surprised.”
“But he’s okay, right?” I question, a part of me not really wanting the answer but another part needing to know.
Cooper drags a hand over his face, heavy and resigned. “I don’t know. He looks like absolute crap.”
“So basically, it’s a regular Thursday,” I mutter, but the joke falls flat in my mouth. The sarcasm tastes like panic on my tongue.
Auntie Mel scoffs, arms folding tight across her chest. “There is nothing normal about Beau riding the bench during a game like that.”
“True.” My voice is barely a whisper. “What did Mercer say to him?”
The flash in Cooper’s eyes is pure lightning. His mouth opens, then shuts, the muscles in his forearms bunching as his fists clench, his silence telling me everything I need to know.
“That bad, huh?” My breath catches halfway up my throat. I try to swallow it down, to stay calm, but my heart’s pounding loud and frantic against my chest.
“Yeah,” Cooper says roughly. “That bad.”
Ramona reaches for his hand and laces their fingers together. Her grip looks like it’s holding more than just affection; it’s anchoring him.
“I just hope he’s not planning to shut us out again,” Cooper mutters.
“He does that when he’s scared,” Auntie Mel murmurs, more to herself than anyone else. She crosses her arms, gaze fixed toward the locker room. “I’m staying in town tonight. Ramona said I could stay at their place tonight.”
“You sure?” I ask, my voice wobbling around the edges. I don’t want to be too far away from Beau tonight either. Now I have the perfect excuse to stay, even if it’s sleeping on Ramona and Cooper’s couch.
“I want to be close. Just in case.”
And then finally, the locker room door creaks open. Beau steps out as if the air out here might knock him over. His hood is pulled up, the strings cinched tight, and his hands are jammed in the kangaroo pocket like he’s trying to hold himself together. He walks as if he is negotiating each step with rusted joints. The roar of celebration behind us dims to a dull fog; all I can hear isthe soft drag of his sneakers on the tile and the thunder of my heartbeat.
No cocky grin or mock-bow to everyone still waiting in the family section. None of the goofy exuberance he usually can’t contain after a win. I don’t need a diagnosis to understand the truth vibrating off him: pain, fear, bone-deep fatigue. Something bigger than a rough shift or a careless hit. Something has hollowed him out.
He finally looks up, and in that single heartbeat, I see everything he’s trying to hide: the glassy sheen of pain, the brittle line of his mouth, the desperate plea not to make him talk about it here, now. My chest constricts so fast it hurts as I step toward him. The instinctual tug drives me to fix whatever’s hurting him. My fingers itch to cup his jaw, to prove he’s still warm, still here, because he looks like someone who’s drowning in plain sight.
He forces a crooked expression, more wince than grin. “Hey, Sunshine.” The words scrape like he’s swallowed gravel. The nickname splinters something inside me because right now, the only thing shining is the panic sparking under my skin.
“You haven’t called me that in years,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say to him as I process what’s going on.
The Timberwolves fought tooth and nail to clutch the win, and he’s standing here, looking like the ice swallowed him whole. We all know this isn’t just exhaustion. It’s a warning light blinking red like we’re seconds away from watching him have a complete meltdown.
“Beau!” Auntie Mel calls, already making her way over. “You hanging back on us, baby?”
His chin jerks up just enough to flash a ghost of a smile as his hand flicks to the hem of his hoodie, tugging it down quick before shoving both fists back into the pocket.“Yeah. I just needed a minute.”
“You played the bench like a pro,” Ramona teases, grinning.
