Page 64 of Spark
"Yeah? Who?"
"Aspen. He booked a session with Eve to have an awesome tat added to his half-sleeve. He also mentioned you haven’t been to the bar with the guys after a game in the four weeks you’ve been back."
I flinch and wiggle in my chair. I’d figured distancing myself was the safest thing for me to do. My interactions with Cam and Herc have been a bit stilted and that’s spilled over into interactions with the rest of the club. I’m afraid to let myself think I’ll get to keep my friends in case they get ripped away later. "I don’t like the guys talking about me behind my back."
Her eyes widen. "It wasn’t like that, Teo. He was just chatting and said you hadn’t been to the bar with them or hung around after practices and he’d been hoping to get your opinion on having something built. That’s all. He’ll be here next Sunday at one o’clock if you want to stop by."
The hollowness in my chest carves deeper. What I want to do and what I should do are two different things. "Thanks, but I’d planned to check out a new softball team then."
"Softball?" Her brows scrunch into her forehead. "You’re adding in softball? But you usually catch up on sleep on Sundays."
"Not adding in. A replacement for rugby."
"Oh, Teo. I’m sorry." Voice softening, she lays her hand on my shoulder. "I know this last month hasn’t been easy. But I’d hate for you to lose out on something you love doing."
Shrugging doesn’t convince either of us that I’m fine, but I can pretend, as I’ve been doing for the last few weeks, that I’m not affected by the gaping hole in my heart and life. "It’s okay. Time to find something new."
The chair squeaks as she rolls in closer to me. She leans in, just like when we were kids and she was confiding a secret. Her expression is as intense now as it was back then. "Or time to admit that you’re just as miserable now as you were after the breakup."
I glance at the open door. The kids are still laughing and talking with Eve. In this chair, Sofia effectively has me cornered. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tightly squeeze my eyes shut. And I cave. "Fine. I’m not okay."
"Maybe you should call Finlay."
Goosebumps break out over my skin like every cell in my body has frozen cold at her suggestion. "And say what?"
"That you two should talk. And see what happens."
My head is swiveling a hardnoeven as something sparks in my chest at the suggestion. "I don’t think so."
Her lips press together as she studies me. "Relationships are give and take."
Skin pricking at her tone, I sit up straighter, grasping the arms of the chair. My muscles tighten like I’m bracing for a hit on the pitch. "What are you getting at?"
"You helped Finlay with his home renovations. And he helped you by paying those bills."
Sputtering, I shake my head, feeling the thrum of my pulse pounding in my temples. The spike of anger strikes hot and fast, a wildfire raging through my body and pouring into my words. "Those are two wildly different things. I did little fixes. He paidthousandsof dollars—"
"I know.” She interrupts, quiet and calm and with a hand on my forearm. “But so did you, for me."
I can only gape at her while my internal battle rages and I wait for words to surface. "Again, that’s different. You’re my sister."
"And he was your boyfriend."
My heart thumps in my throat. After the past year and a half of physical exhaustion, the mental and emotional exhaustion is like being bulldozed and bludgeoned before being bulldozed again. "Boyfriend. Not my husband. Not a committed partner. Not even a live-in boyfriend, and my staying at his place while I recovered doesn’t count."
"You were there longer than your recovery lasted. The way you two acted, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you had decided to move in together. You looked at each other like people in love."
"I…" I can’t deny how I felt about him. My heartbeat trips at the notion he might have loved me too. So I cling to the argument I’ve held tight all month. "That doesn’t change things. He didn’t treat me as an equal partner when he paid those bills."
She tilts her head to the side like she’s seeing far more than my flustered features and fumbling words. "Okay, so he made a mistake. It was coming from a good place."
"He’s generous. To a fault. And I can’t repay him, not in the same way."
"So what? You have your own way." Sofia folds the post-care instructions then hands the paper to me. "Eve and I have our individual strengths and weaknesses. All relationships do. Do you really think Finlay would have stayed with you if he felt the relationship was imbalanced?"
"I—"
"No." Her eyes flash and she shoves off her stool. It rolls a few feet across the room. "Would he have insisted that you move in with him so he could care for you? Again, no. You could’ve stayed with us or with Mom and Dad, or even with Cam. He knew that. And yet, he wanted you with him."
