And it was all rushing back to me again now as I watched training staff rush out to Emily, knowing I couldn’t do a damn thing but stand here and watch and wait.
It was a good thing my body had this reaction. It was a good thing the chemicals rushing through my brain made my feet feel like concrete blocks, that a fog so dense I couldn’t see through it had moved in and rendered me immobile.
Because if I had my mother’s instinct, I’d be running out there, too.
And I couldn’t do that — not without raising every eyebrow on this sideline and up in the box, too.
So I stayed.
Or… my body stayed.
I wasn’t sure I was still inside it.
Everything beyond the fifty-yard line blurred, like someone had smeared the edges of the world with their thumb, but I could see her. I could always see her. Emily was on the ground, curled in on herself, clutching her arm, and there was a part of me that registered it clinically — trainers moving in, teammates stepping back, the routine dissolving into controlled mayhem.
But the rest of me was screaming.
Go.
Just go.
Run to her.
Fuck what anyone thinks.
Fuck what happens next.
It would take five seconds to cross the field. Maybe less. I could already see it, the path between bodies, the way I’d drop tomy knees beside her, the way I’d ask her where it hurt, how bad, if she could move her fingers. I’d carry her off myself if I had to.
My weight shifted forward.
I took a step I didn’t actually feel. I couldn’t feelanythingexcept the pull toward her, like something in my chest had been hooked and reeled in.
Go.
I took another step, this one registering.
Someone said something near me — my name, maybe — but it sounded far away, distorted, like I was underwater.
I was just about to run when it felt like a hand slammed against my chest to stop me.
It wasn’t physical. No teammates had come over to me. No one noticed the internal battle I was currently fighting for my life in.
The version of me that had been built for this, trained for this, conditioned for this exact kind of moment snapped into place like a seatbelt locking.
Do not move.
Do not react.
Do not make this about anything other than the game you are about to play.
You have responsibilities.
You have a job to do.
And this is exactly why you never should have gotten mixed up with Emily to begin with.
My jaw clenched, teeth grinding together as the two instincts collided, one trying to drag me forward, the other holding me in place with a grip just as strong.
