Page 36 of Before We Break Again
Santos’s grip tightened around her fingers, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.“Mizar, huh?”
She nodded.“Yeah, the one that keeps everything orbiting.The one that makes sure none of us drift too far.”
I stared up at the sky, the stars blurring into one as the enormity of it hit me.We were more than just kids fooling around, more than just friends sneaking out late at night.We were something bigger, tied together by an invisible thread.Like stars, always close—even if the world tried to pull us apart.
The night deepened, and with them beside me, it felt like we could’ve reached the stars themselves.
ChapterNineteen
Santos
Dustin’scryptic message lingers on my screen, staring back at me like some unsolvable riddle.We might have a chance.It’s done.
What does that even mean?A chance for what?It’s like he played the lottery and maybe we’ll hit all the numbers, but maybe not.
I’ve been trying to decipher it for what feels like hours, the words don’t make any sense.I’ve even resorted to repeating them out loud, like some chant that’ll unlock the mystery.But no—nothing.
What’s done?Or maybe the question is what the fuck did you do, Dustin Haverbrook?I swear, once I’m up and running I’m going to maim him.
I love Dustin—he’s my best friend, my ...who the fuck knows what we are.We’re really close and sometimes we only have each other.But other times I don’t get him.What does he mean with this text?
Were we planning a heist, and I wasn’t told about it?
This kind of message drives me absolutely insane.Every time he sends something like this, it’s as if he’s intentionally leaving me dangling on a cliff’s edge, waiting, wondering, stressing.
As I’m about to read the words one more time, my thoughts are interrupted.The door to my hospital room creaks open, and in walks Mills Aldridge, the owner of the Portland Orcas, with Caspian Spearman, our team captain, trailing right behind him.Their presence pulls me out of the mental whirlpool Dustin’s text has me spinning in.
“Everything okay?”Mills asks.
“Yeah, just ...”I hesitate, fumbling for words.
How do I respond?I doubt he wants to know that my best friend might be losing his everfucking mind.His last thread of sanity is gone.Instead of explaining or asking what the fuck they’re doing here, I force a smile and greet them.
Truthfully, I didn’t expect either of them to be here—especially today.They have bigger things to deal with, right?A team to run, games to win.Surely, a now sidelined player is low on the list.And the longer they stand there, the more my stomach is tied into knots.Why are they here?
That creeping fear—the kind that slithers into your thoughts uninvited—takes hold.Are they here to let me go?
My contract isn’t up until next year, but what if they’re planning to send me to some other team early, claiming my injury is the reason?It’s not trade season, but what if something’s changed?What if they’re just here to deliver the death blow to my career, right here, while I’m unable to do anything?
My throat tightens, my voice low and cautious.“How can I help you?”I ask, trying to mask the sinking feeling.
I brace myself, mentally preparing for them to say my time with the Orcas is over.Maybe my father’s relentless badgering has finally broken through and messed everything up—just like he promised he would last night.
He said it, my career would be over.Over.
Mills steps forward, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, that signature easygoing smile still on his face, as though nothing’s wrong at all.“The question is—what can we do for you?”
For me?
Before I can ask anything, Caspian steps up, offering a small, sincere smile.“How’re you holding up?Feeling a little trapped?Like you just stepped into the first circle of Dante’s Inferno?”His voice carries a softness, an understanding that cuts right through the tension building in the room.His gaze settles on me with the kind of look that says he’s been exactly where I am now.
“I remember when I broke my leg,” he continues.“Zero out of zero recommended.It was pure fucking hell ...until the wife stepped in and played nurse.”He grins like an idiot, his eyes crinkling with fondness.
And somehow, that small comment—his casual, almost goofy attempt to lighten the air—is enough to pull me back from the ledge I’ve been teetering on.The pressure of everything I’ve been holding in—the injury, the fear, the uncertainty—eases just a fraction.That tiny crack of humor settles me in a way I didn’t expect.
I wasn’t with the team when he went through his injury, but I remember it vividly, like a moment frozen in time.He was the captain then, and he’s still the captain now.His career wasn’t shattered, it wasn’t derailed.He came back, stronger even.And maybe—just maybe—mine won’t be either.
The thought tugs a flicker of hope that’s been buried under the layers of worry.Maybe this isn’t the end for me.Maybe, like him, I’ll find my way back.
