Page 123 of Triple Play
We’re being escorted out before any of us can respond. The door closes behind us with a finality that feels like a death sentence.
We stand in the hallway for a long moment. Not speaking. Just breathing.
Then Grant says, very quietly, “We’re separating.”
“No—” I start.
“Yes.” He’s not looking at any of us. “You’re moving out. Today. I’ll help you pack.”
“Grant, that’s not—”
“It’s the only option that doesn’t destroy all of our futures.”
“Our futures?” Jordie’s voice is sharp. “What about our relationship?”
“What relationship?” Grant’s laugh is bitter. “We’ve been lying to everyone for months. Sneaking around. Pretending. And now we’re facing expulsion because we couldn’t keep it in our pants.”
“Don’t do that,” Wyatt says quietly. “Don’t make this about sex.”
“It is about sex.”
“It’s about love.” Jordie’s voice cracks. “We love her. She loves us. That’s not—this isn’t just—”
“It doesn’t matter what it is.” Grant finally looks at us, and his eyes are empty. “What matters is she’s got a medical schoolinterview at Johns Hopkins in two weeks. Wyatt’s got scouts coming to playoffs. You’ve got your whole career ahead of you. And I—” He stops. “I’m not letting her throw it all away because I was too selfish to let her go.”
“You don’t get to make that decision for me,” I say.
“I’m not making it for you. I’m making it for all of us.”
“By pushing me away. Again.” The accusation lands and I watch it hit. “This is what you do, Grant. When things get hard, you run.”
“I’m not running. I’m being realistic.”
“You’re being a coward.”
His expression hardens. “Better a coward than the reason you lose everything you’ve worked for.”
“I’ve already lost—” I stop myself. Take a breath. “You know what? Fine. You want me to move out? I’ll move out.”
“Elise—” Wyatt starts.
“No. He’s right. This was always going to end. Might as well be now.” I’m walking away before any of them can see me cry. “Have a great life, Grant. Hope it was worth it.”
I make it to the parking lot before Jordie catches up to me.
“Stop. Just—stop.”
“I can’t.” I’m unlocking my car with shaking hands. “I need to go. I need to—”
“He doesn’t mean it.”
“He absolutely means it.”
“No, he’s scared. He’s—”
“He’s exactly who I thought he was two years ago.” I get in my car. “Thanks for the memories, Jordie. Tell Wyatt I’m sorry.”
“Where are you going?”
