Page 153 of Power Play
“Soph.”
“I’m not moving in,” I blurt. “I need you to know that. I’m not moving into the flat. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”
“Okay.”
“Even if he paints every wall with glitter and spells out ‘SORRY’ in fairy lights. Even if he finally figures out that communication doesn’t mean ‘read receipt ignored.’ I need space.”
“Then take space.”
“But last night?” I sigh. “That was the first time in weeks I felt like he was really standing still. Like he was saying, ‘Here I am.’”
“Because he was.”
I press the heel of my hand to my chest. “It scared the hell out of me.”
“Of course it did. That’s because it matters.”
There’s a pause.
Then Mia, because she’s Mia, says, “But also, let’s not gloss over the part where you casually turned a charity match into an action movie. Youshoved a womanacross a sheet of ice.”
“She looked at me as if I was something she’d stepped in.”
“I’d havedrop-kickedher.”
“I figured pushing her was classier.”
“You pushed her like a Greek Goddess throwing thunderbolts.”
I huff out a laugh, despite myself.
“And that high-five?” Mia adds. “That was pure poetry.”
“It felt right,” I admit.
“Because you still love him.”
The words settle into the silence as though they’ve been waiting there all along.
“I do,” I say, because there’s no point pretending. “I think I always did.”
“But love doesn’t erase hurt,” she says. “It just holds space for it.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Exactly.”
“So, hold space. Let it be messy. Let it take time.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know.”
There’s a beat of silence between us.
“You want me to come over?”
“No,” I say. “I need to sit in it a bit longer. Maybe make some angry tea. Watch something where nobody kisses on ice.”
“Die Hard it is.”
