“Noah, you’re still young. You may not understand this until you get older, but sometimes people can’t see things for what they were until they’ve traveled far enough from it. We tend to romanticize our experiences, and that changes how we look back on them. Kind of like a tinted lens.”
“Is that a yes?”
He nods slowly. “Why are you here?”
“Ember’s mom.”
He leans forward. His eyes penetrate, like he’s diving into my thoughts. “Why are you really here?”
Pulling my gaze away, I look out through the large window behind the desk. Blue skies stretch on and on, and the breeze presses through the trees, causing the leaves to tremble.
“You don’t need to respond, son. I know the answer. She has haunted you every minute of every day since you were eighteen. What if you…just…let her go? I know you don’t want to, but you’ve both been hanging on for so long. You’ve been gone, but you never really left. She stayed here, but part of her was wherever you went.”
In my head his words make sense, but in my heart they’re gibberish. He’s speaking as though Ember is a choice. She’s not.
She’s inevitable.
Inescapable.
My forever.
And I’ll be damned if I ever let her marry someone else.
“I don’t know what happened between you, Maddie, and mom, and I don’t want to know. But Ember and I aren’t you and Maddie. I’m not going anywhere without her.”
“What about when Marcus calls you and asks you why you aren’t in Atlanta rehabbing your knee?”
“I’ll rehab here.”
“And then? When you’re ready to play again? What will you do? Drag Ember with you? She has a business here. That yoga studio is hers now, Noah. She bought it.”
I fall back, quiet. I didn’t know she took over the studio. I’m an ass. Why do I assume Ember hasn’t moved forward? Why do I expect everything to be as it was two years ago?
She’s a business owner. She has a boyfriend now, a fiancé, but still, she turned to me. In her time of need she came to me. Fell into me. Crashed into me.
Because magic doesn’t die.
Maybe magic doesn’t have to be loud and consuming. Not all the time. Maybe magic dims and simmers, but remains crackling quietly beneath the surface. I felt it when she chose me today.
Eyes locked on my dad, I pull my phone from my pocket and press a couple buttons.
“Miranda,” I say when she answers. “I need to get rehab set up here. I’m going to be here a little longer.”
“Okay.” She sounds uncertain. Either that or she’s tipsy.
“And I’ll deal with Marcus soon.”
That’s not a call I’m looking forward to. I’m in the middle of my contract. He’s going to want me back as soon as possible, if only for media efforts. A happy, united front. Too bad. Soccer took my free time, soccer took my energy, soccer consumed my thoughts and determined the direction of my life.
No more.
I gave up everything for my passion, and what it gave me in return is so little compared to what I could’ve had. I’ll always be grateful I had the chance to make my dream come true. Not everyone does. But things are different now. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel pulled in opposite directions. I’m pointed one way, staring ahead at one path, and it’s the only one I want to be on.
I let Ember go two times. There will not be a third.
30
Ember
I shouldn’t be doing this. I know that. Yet, here I am.
I’m here because I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be. After a day spent at the hospital, I need comfort. My hand is up, poised to knock on the thick white wooden door, but I stop when I hear voices coming through from the other side.
Two voices?
A woman?
Oh no. I’ve completely misread why he’s here.
I turn to go, but the door opens. I’m frozen in the arc of light that spills into the hallway.
“Hi,” I sputter.
An immaculate blonde with a severe bob and an even more severe look on her face stares at me. She holds onto the edge of the door with one hand and purses her lips. A stack of papers is gripped by her free hand.
“Ember?” Noah calls out. Peeking past the blonde in her black sheath dress, I make out Noah’s legs. A stack of pillows holds up his injured leg, and the other lays flat on the bed.
My eyes switch to the blonde.
“Miranda, can you please let Ember in?” Noah sounds irritated.
Miranda stares at me for another second before stepping out and darting around me. Quickly, I reach out and palm the door so it doesn’t close.
“Ember? Come in,” Noah calls.
I step inside and let the door swing shut. Rooted in place, I stare at Noah. He’s propped up by half a dozen white pillows. They fan out like a peacock’s plumes.
“Hi,” I say.
“She’s my PA.”
I put up my hands and shake my head. “None of my business.”
Noah grins. I don’t want to like his smile, but I do. I especially don’t want to like the laughter in his eyes, yet I do.
“You look mad.” His lips twist with contained amusement.
“I’m not mad.” I fix him with a dirty look.
“Perturbed?”
“Nope,” I deny swiftly with a jerk of my head.
“You never were a good liar.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Noah’s toffee-colored hair falls into his eyes, and he pushes it back. “It was meant as one.”
I clear my throat. “No news on my mom.”
Noah sighs slowly in response to my non-update.
My hands hang in front of me, my fingers knotting. I’m not certain why I’m here. The thinking, the crying, the what-if’s, they were all driving me out of my mind. Where else am I supposed to go?
Matt’s house.
“I should’ve gone to Matt’s house,” I blurt out. “I don’t know why I’m here. It’s wrong. I shouldn’t have come.” My hands run through my hair, grabbing at the ends and pulling it over one shoulder. I scrunch my eyes and groan. “Why am I here, Noah?”
Noah’s laughing eyes are gone. His features rearrange as he grows serious.
“Magic.” One simple word, spoken without pageantry, yet it holds so much between each of its letters.
My head shakes. “Don’t. Don’t say that. We were kids, Noah. Hormonal teenagers. Everything is bigger when you’re eighteen. All the emotions are”—I stretch my arms as wide as they will go—“gigantic. They take you over.”
Noah’s mouth sets in a grim line. “You’re arguing too much.”
I point a finger at him. “You still believe in magic.”
“And you don’t?” His voice is loud now.
My feet propel me, until I’m standing at his bedside. “Magic doesn’t exist. Neither does reason. The whole world is made up of little things that happen every minute of every day, and all it takes is one person to change his mind, and the picture shifts again.” I lift a hand to my face, discovering tears on my cheeks.
Noah reaches for me, but he can’t quite close the distance. He’s hampered by his propped-up leg. It doesn’t matter anyhow, I wouldn’t accept his pity. Being angry is keeping me together.
Noah leaves his hand there, extended between us. “Please.”
I crawl on the huge, soft bed until I’m beside him. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, and I curl in. He feels good, and he smells even better.
“Noah?” I say softly, looking up.
He looks down.
We stare at each other, and I feel it. The very thing I just denied existence. Like a sparkler on Fourth of July, it sizzles and pops.
Noah’s gaze darkens, his chest hollows out with a deep breath, and his face lowers.
My tongue darts out of my mouth, wetting my lips in anticipation. My toes flex, pushing me closer to his face. His lips hover
half an inch above me, and I smell the sweet malt scent of a beer he must have had earlier.
“Noah,” I say again, this time like a request. I want his mouth on mine. I want to go back to when we were kids. Back to when my mom was healthy, and everything was fresh and new.
“We can’t,” Noah moans, his tone frustrated. He pulls back but doesn’t break eye contact. “If you did this, it would tear you up inside.”
He’s right. I’d never be able to live with myself. Matt loves me. “I should probably go.” I start to rise, but Noah tightens his hold.
“Stay,” he murmurs.
Defeated, I lay my head on his chest. His heart hammers out a beat against my face.
“I was accepted to Stanford.” The truth floats out and hangs in the air. “I didn’t tell you because I knew I couldn’t go, and I didn’t want to make everything harder on you. I wanted you to stay on your path. I was afraid you’d deviate for me.” His heart is beating faster now. “I’m sorry. Back then it seemed like the right choice.”
“What’s right isn’t always what’s good.”
I turn my head, placing my chin on his chest, and look up at him. “Are you angry?”
He looks down, studying me. “No,” he finally answers. “And I’m not surprised. You have a thing for self-sacrifice.”
He’s right. I do. I like that about myself. I lay my head back down.
“I hear you’re engaged.” His steady voice washes over me.
I gulp, nodding my head. My fingers automatically reach for a ring I’m still not wearing. I remind myself that it’s too big for my finger, but part of me wonders if that’s a convenient excuse. Shame snakes its way through me.
Neither of us say anything, though my mind is racing. I should be with Matt right now. He’s kind and caring. He supported me when I wanted to buy the studio. He helped me create a business plan, introduced me to a client of his who works in advertising. Yoga’s not his thing, but he accepts that it’s mine. He thinks my aversion to throwing away food is weird, and I’ve learned not to proudly announce I made dinner from items the average person would’ve tossed. My nose ring is non-negotiable, and I think he finally gets that.
Noah… My heart pounds out his name. This is the crux of the problem. Matt is a lot of good things, but he can never change the one thing he is not. Noah.
Noah might be back for right now, but what does that even mean? He’ll rehab, he’ll go back to Atlanta. He’ll choose soccer again, and I won’t stop him. I could never stop him from chasing his dream, even if I want to. He needs to see it through, as far as it can go. I can’t be responsible for an unfulfilled aspiration.
The knowledge of this is enough to un-do me. It shatters my insides, and I cry again. Noah holds me closer, brushes his lips across my hair and says all the right things. Your mom will be okay. She’ll make it through all this. She’ll have a good life, and be able to walk, talk, and be happy.
He doesn’t know I’m mourning us.
“Where have you been?”
Matt’s shiny leather shoes sound like thunder on my wooden floor. He’s coming from the kitchen, and he’s angry.
“I—”
“You were with him, weren’t you?” Fury makes his lips quiver. I’ve never seen him so upset. Then again, I’ve never spent the night with another guy.
“Yes, but—”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he yells, throwing his hands in the air.
Sky comes from her room, glancing between us with frightened eyes.
“Matt, calm down.” My palms meet in front of me, and I make a pleading motion. “Nothing happened. I promise. I fell asleep at his hotel room. I know it sounds bad.”
“It sounds pretty fucking bad, Ember.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but nothing happened. I promise.”
Matt blows out a long, heavy breath. “Why were you there?”
I look down at my hands. This is the question I still don’t know the answer to. I was hurting, and I went to him. I don’t know how else to explain it, but I do know that reason won’t do anything to make Matt feel any better.
“He’s an old friend—”
“This again?” Matt tips his head back and laughs, though the sound is anything but happy. “He’s an old friend,” he says in a girlish voice, making air quotes with his fingers.
“He is.” My words slip through clenched teeth. It would be nice if Matt would sit down and hear me out.
“I’m a pretty smart guy, Ember. Watch me do the math.” He lifts a finger to his chin and tips up his head, pretending to think. “Ember’s high school virginity plus one soccer star rushing to her after his surgery, divided by the annoying-as-fuck pleading looks you give one another, equals Matt and Ember are no longer engaged.”
Sky slipped from the hall while Matt was talking and now stands beside me. She opens her mouth but I’m faster. “Matt, if you would calm down and listen, I can explain.”
“Are you going to explain where your ring went?”
I look down at my bare finger. “It’s too big for me, Matt. I need to have it sized.”
Saying the words out loud makes me consider why it’s so big. I have other rings in my jewelry box, he could’ve taken one and had the engagement ring sized correctly. But that would’ve taken time, and it’s becoming clear to me something had lit a fire under Matt.
“Maybe you need to think about what you really want, Ember. You don’t seem too clear on the matter.”
“Matt—”
“I’m going to the office. You have until close of business today to tell me what you want.” He storms past me. “Your breakfast is on the table,” he mutters.
My shoulders jump when the screen door slams shut.
I blow past the kitchen and head straight out into the backyard. I’ve planted flowers everywhere, and a big tree sits in the corner. A vegetable garden is opposite the tree, and in the middle is a little couch. It’s not an outdoor piece of furniture, so I have to keep it covered. The antique wooden back is painted blush pink, and its ornately carved legs curl into the soft green grass. I added polka-dot cream colored cushions. It’s impractical but I love it.
Pulling off the tan cover, I brush off some stray dried leaves and lie down. Sky follows me out, folding herself into a seat right on the soft green grass. I wish my mom was here too, but right now she’s fighting a battle nobody knows the size or duration of yet. Her problem is infinity times more important than mine.
Looking up into the blue sky, I open my mouth and talk into the warm, moist morning air, telling Sky everything.
I talk until I’m spent. Then we go inside, and get ready to head back to the hospital.
31
Noah
I never thought I’d reach a day when this would make me happy. What I just did should have me shaken to my core. I should be looking back over a lifetime of practices, games, sweat, and dedication.
All my life spent working on this one thing, and all it took to end it were a few words.
“Playing professionally was my dream, and you helped me achieve it. I will always be grateful you chose me, but it’s time for me to move on.”
After a moment of stunned silence, Marcus spoke first. “We’d love for you to rethink your decision, Noah. You’ll still be a valuable member of the team once you’re healed. I hope you’re not making this choice based on your injury.”
I shook my head, even though nobody could see me. “I’m not, Coach. There’s something at home I need to focus on.”
There were well wishes all around, and that was that.
I quit the team. Soccer. I quit soccer.
“What now?” Miranda asks. She’s sitting at the round table in the corner of the room. Her laptop is out, her fingers poised above the keys.
“It’s over.” There are loose ends still—papers to be signed, lockers to clean out, lawyers who need to draft documents, pending media releases—but, effectively, I’m retired.
Miranda
sucks a breath deep into her lungs. I can tell this is unsettling to her, yet for me, it’s not. It’s exciting.
Shackles have been cut. Shackles I placed upon myself.
“I still need you, Miranda.” How can I explain this appropriately? She’s a lifesaver. I’ll need help getting my Atlanta place packed up and sold. Assuming I’m staying here.
I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Ember left my bed quickly this morning, flustered and chagrined.
“We did nothing but sleep,” I reminded her as she shot from my bed once she realized where she was.
“At this point, I’m not sure if that’s worse,” she fired back, stumbling to slide her feet into her shoes. She ran out the door without another word.
I have no idea where Ember and I stand, but I don’t have to lie down and accept that. Yes, she has a fiancé.
But there is no way in hell I’m going down without a fight. I made that mistake already.
“Miranda.” I sway to my feet and tuck a crutch under my arm. “I need to go somewhere.”
She sends me the telltale look of a woman who does not approve. Her eyebrows pull together, and her gaze dips to her computer, but her lips remain tight.
“What?” I ask.
“She’s engaged.” Miranda keeps her gaze on her keyboard.
“You let me worry about that.” I change into a fresh shirt and start for the hotel room door.
Miranda drives me, and I feel like a fool. What I wouldn’t give to drive myself right now. So fucking ridiculous.
“Do you want me to wait?” she asks when we pull up.
I peer into the green front yard with all the cute potted flowers lining the walkway. A thought occurs to me. “She might not be here. She might be at the hospital.” In my haste, I didn’t think to check with Ember. “I’ll text you in five minutes,” I tell Miranda as I get out. She hands me my crutches with a frown.
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