We never promised anything beyond the end of the season.
And I won’t build a life around something that hasn’t been chosen—clearly, deliberately—by both of us.
Not again.
If Oliver wants something more, he’ll say it. And if he doesn’t… then I still have to choose myself.
Even if it hurts.
“Alan, I… I really appreciate the offer. I just—I’ve always planned to leave after this season.”
His smile falls just slightly, but he recovers fast. “Addison, I get it. I know you had your plan when you came here, and you’ve more than delivered. All I’m asking is that you don’t shut the door on us today. Please, just think about it. Give me an answer by the end of the season.”
I exhale a slow, tight breath.
Everything inside me screams no, but Alan deserves more than an instant-reply, so I nod once.
“Okay,” I say quietly. “I’ll give you an answer by the end of the season.”
I smile, pretending I’m really going to think about it. But in my heart, I already know I’m leaving. Because staying would mean admitting I want something more. It would mean choosing Oliver and risking him not choosing me back.
43
between fixtures
WHAT IF BY TADHG DALY
I stare at the ceiling from the physio table in Luke’s office, just counting the tiles like they could distract me from the whirlwind inside my head. Normally Luke and I chat during these sessions, but today it’s dead silent.
“You’re quiet today, mate,” he says, pulling on my knee.
“A lot on my mind,” I mutter.
“Promotion?”
“Yeah.”
The season is winding down fast. Just a few matches left now. Promotion is dangling in front of us. It’s the kind of thing I dreamed about as a kid. And yet, that’s not all this is. Every match we win, every point we earn is just a reminder. If we win—if we go up—Addison’s gone.
That was her deal. One year only. Come in, build the brand, and then head off to the next project.
“Oi,” Luke says, tapping me on the leg. “Where’d you just go?”
“What? Nowhere,” I mutter.
He tilts his head, giving me a look like he’s not buying it for a second.
“You thinking about Addison?”
I blink, sitting up on the table. “What are you on about?”
He leans back against the wall, crossing his arms. “Mate, I know.”
For a moment, I don’t know whether to laugh or deny.
I raise an eyebrow, settling on trying to play it cool. “Know what?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Luke says, an amused smirk curling at the corners of his lips. “I’m not blind, mate. You’re not fooling me.”
