“And has that been working lately?”
Alejandra stared into her tea, watching the faint ripple on the surface. Then she let out a short, humorless laugh. “Nope.”
Silence wrapped the space like a blanket. It didn’t press, didn’t demand, just… existed. It didn’t force her to speak. But it invited her to. She didn’t feel poked or prodded. Just seen. She hated that. And also… didn’t.
Carla took a slow sip of her tea. “You’re a professional athlete.”
“Yes.”
“You were injured in Hawaii. Pipeline.”
Alejandra nodded, slower this time.
“Tell me what happened.”
Alejandra opened her mouth, but nothing came out at first. Her throat felt dry, like the words were stuck somewhere between her chest and her lips. Then she took a breath.
“I fell.”
Carla didn’t rush her. Just waited.
Alejandra swallowed.
“I was doing this heat. It wasn’t even the worst wave. But I went off-balance mid-air, and the board twisted. I don’t know how… but I hit the reef with my shoulder first, and it got stuck in a canyon underneath.”
Her voice dropped, quieter now.
“I had to dislocate it to resurface.”
Her voice cracked slightly, and she covered it with a cough, shifting in her seat.
“On the jet ski, my brother was there,” she continued. “I could taste blood in my mouth. My shoulder was out. Half of my wetsuit was torn.”
Her breath hitched faintly.
“I was shaking. It was cold. And I remember thinking…”
She hesitated.Don’t say it.It sounds stupid.
“…like the ocean had rejected me.” The words startled her as soon as they left her mouth. “Like it didn’t want me anymore.”
Carla nodded slowly. “That sounds terrifying.”
“I didn’t think it was a big deal at first. Injuries happen in the surf community. You patch yourself up, you train again, you come back. That’s what I’ve always done.”
That’s who I am.
“But this time it’s not working.”
“No,” Alejandra whispered. “This time it feels like something broke… inside me.”
Her grip on the mug tightened.
“Not just the shoulder. Like—” she shook her head slightly, frustrated, “I don’t know who I am without surfing.”
“What do you mean?”
Alejandra hesitated, her eyes glassy now. “I started surfing when I was four. My dad put me on a board before I could even swim.” A faint, almost disbelieving smile flickered. “The ocean has been my safest place for as long as I can remember.”
