“Years,” he said honestly. “It doesn’t happen overnight. It’s slow. It’s ugly. Some days you think you’re fine, and then you’re not.” A small shrug. “But everyone’s different.”
She nodded, thoughtful, absorbing that.
The sound of footsteps broke the moment as the two volunteers came back, arms full of cardboard boxes.
Callum straightened instinctively, the softness in his posture disappearing, shifting back into something more professional. He glanced at them, gave a brief nod, then looked back at her.
“Listen,” he said, lowering his voice slightly, “I have to go be a teacher to these two for the next couple of hours. I know you said no contact, but—”
“Yes,” she cut him off quickly, almost too quickly, her voice bright with eagerness she didn’t quite mask. “I’d love to do something together.”
He blinked, thrown off. “Who told you I was going to say that?”
“Sixth sense,” she replied with a small, knowing smile. “I’ll be back in two hours, alright?”
“Yes, madame.”
He took her right hand and lifted it to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss against her knuckles.
That was when he noticed the rings.
He remembers her wearing them on her left hand. Thin bands stacked carelessly, golden catching the light when she gestured.
Now they were on her right.
All of them.
His gaze lingered a fraction longer than it should have. He’d watched those fingers do things he couldn’t forget. Watched them curl into his shirt, press against his skin, slide through his hair. Things he kept replaying long after she was gone.
She bit back a smile, clearly aware of his pause.
“See you later, Callum.”
“I’ll be waiting for you, Alejandra.”
She nodded once, smiled, and turned, walking toward the Athlete Zone without looking back.
Callum exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.
God bless Sofia.He’d build her a damn statue for dragging him here.
25
ALEJANDRA
1 step forward, 3 steps back - Olivia Rodrigo
“Look who’s here!”Amira screeched, running toward her with arms wide open, only to stop just short when Alejandra shot her a look of pure panic.
“Oh, right. The shoulder,” Amira muttered, adjusting course. She kissed her on the cheek and gave her a much gentler hug.
“Yeah. The reason you’re going to win the USL this year and not me,” Alejandra joked, or tried to. Even if she got the words out, it still stung like hell. Not just physically. Emotionally.
She was supposed to be competing. She was supposed to ride those waves, chase her third title. But after what Callum had told her earlier, she felt greedy. Why had she wanted more, when she’d already had so many chances? She was a gold Olympic athlete. A two-time USL title holder. She’d done it. She’d won it all.
But he hadn’t. And god, his story was so much more heartbreaking than hers.
Fucking hell. Way to put things into perspective, Callum.
