I train because I need to prove that this is worth it.
And I train because sometimes it’s the only place where I can get out of my head.
“No, it’s not,” she argues.
I frown at the screen. I don’t want to get into this right now—feelings I don’t really understand myself. “It’s no one’s business, Kath. And the others shouldn’t be talking about me.”
She flinches at my harsh tone. I hate that I’m becoming so defensive. This isn’t who I am.
And she shouldn’t be worrying about me. She has her own life to live.
“You looked miserable at the last meet,” she tells me. “I watched the live stream. And it wasn’t because you didn’t medal. You looked miserable before you even got in the pool.”
“I was having a bad day,” I reason. “We all have bad days.”
“Yeah, but when we have consistent bad days, then we do something about it,” she counters. “Sam, is this about your mum?”
And now it’s my turn to flinch.
“Just leave it,” I tell her.
“Sam, you can talk to me.”
I hate the compassion in her eyes. I don’t deserve it. I’m making her put me first when she shouldn’t be, exactly like I always do.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snap.
She just looks sad. “Why are you spending all your time training? Spend time with your friends for once,” she persists.
“I’ve always spent all my time training. Why are you making this into a big deal?”
“That’s not true.” Her brow crinkles again. “You used to make time for other things.” She pauses for a moment, before proceeding with a tone that sounds more cautious. “In Rio, when you said that your mum wouldn’t have been proud of you. That you didn’t deserve to have good things… what did you mean?”
I forget that sometimes I don’t have a filter around Kath. That she hears the bits of my inner monologue that make it to the surface and manages to piece together the bits that don’t.
“I didn’t mean anything,” I tell her. “And it’s none of your business anyway.”
“It is. I’ve been thinking… Maybe I should fly over soon? I know we’redifferentnow, and I need to save up a bit more money, but I want to see you.”
And at that something inside me cracks.
I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep forcing her to cross an ocean just because she’s worried about me. I should never have called her after Rio, it was wrong to try and stay friends.
This is all my fault.
And I need to fix it.
I take a breath to brace myself for what I have to say next.
“I don’t… I can’t be friends with you anymore.”
She jerks back from the screen. Part of me regrets the words, can’t even believe I’ve said them. But another part of me knows this is the right thing to do. That thisiswhat we both need. She needs to move on. To stop worrying about me. I can see how much I’m hurting her, how much I’ve already hurt her.
And anyway, training first. No distractions.
“Are you serious?” Her voice is rising. “You’re the one who wanted to stay friends after Rio. I was the one piecing together the emotional wreckage you left behind to make sure we could still talk. I wasn’t going to throw away a decade of friendship over one fight, even if it was your fault.”
I double down on what I said. “Maybe our lives are moving on.”
