Maybe he’s never told me how he feels. And maybe he’s never asked me to stay.
But I know how I feel. I feel it in every look, every touch, every moment we’ve shared.
I’m hopelessly, completely, terrifyingly in love with Oliver Bradshaw.
It sneaks up on me, the realization slipping in as naturally as air filling my lungs. And it’s not just about Oliver. Though, god, he’s the center of it. It’s this city. These people.
I’ve been living half in the past, looking over my shoulder, bracing for the worst. And all the while, without me even noticing, this place became mine. He became mine.
This isn’t temporary. It’s home.
I thumb through the rack of dresses before grabbing two of them. I hold them up, one in each hand—a sleek black one and a strappy blue one—and turn to Pippa with a coy smile.
“Okay,” I say, trying to hold my voice steady even though my heart feels like it might actually burst. “Which one says, ‘Hey Captain, I love you’ more?”
Pippa’s jaw drops so hard I can hear it land on the floor with a thud.
“Oh my god!” she shrieks, launching herself toward me. “Addison! I knew you had feelings, but I didn’t realize you were in love. This is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I’m going to cry. I’m actually going to cry.”
I laugh, half embarrassed, half floating. “Pippa. Focus. Dress.”
She points decisively at the blue one. “That one. It’s romantic and gorgeous. There’s no way he’s letting you leave wearing that one.”
I hold the blue dress up against me, looking in the mirror, and for once I don’t second-guess myself. I don’t feel scared.
I'm in love with Oliver Bradshaw.
And I’m ready.
45
stoppage time
HEY JUDE BY THE BEATLES
Addison walked out of the training facility and took every bit of sunlight with her. Everything feels dimmer. Even the way she looked at me, like she was already halfway gone. It’s like she’s already started saying goodbye and I didn’t even get a word in, or a say in it.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, rubbing at the back of my neck.
“You alright, mate?”
I glance up and find Luke leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed, watching me.
“No,” I admit, shaking my head. “What gave it away?”
“You look like you’ve been benched.” Luke steps toward me, offering a sad smile. “Pub?”
I hesitate, then nod. “Yeah.”
Ten minutes later, we’re at a booth in the back corner of a quiet pub, two pints between us. Luke doesn’t say anything at first. He just sips his beer and lets me sit in the silence.
“You can tell me,” he finally says, voice low. “Whatever’s going on with you. Whatever you’re feeling.”
I shake my head and stare into my glass. “Addison.”
“I figured.” There’s no surprise on his face, just a quiet sort of sympathy. “What happened?”
“She’s leaving.”
