Page 153 of With the Assist

That was the moment everything clicked into place.

That one hour of fun hadn’t been worth what came with it. Not the panic, not the scrambling, not the feeling of almost letting more important things slip through my hands.

I couldn’t balance it the way I wanted to believe I could.

Something always gives.

So I decided, right then and there, that it wouldn’t be my family. It wouldn’t be soccer.

I stopped choosing anything that could put either of them at risk.

After that, every decision got easier.

I knew what mattered. I knew what didn’t.

And when I started to forget that in college, I was reminded just as harshly.

When I’d told Nathan about that, I’d said it wasn’t a big deal. And it wasn’t. On its own, that situation was nothing. Neither was thatday when I was sixteen. But stacked together with a hundred other moments like it, there isn’t a version of my life where I get to have it all.

I’m well aware that it’s bullshit. I know it’s not fair. I even know that I could say fuck it and do what I want anyway. But what’s the point when taking what I want could cost me everything I’m on the brink of?

So, I make the hard choices. I walk away from things that matter, even when I don’t want to. I shut down feelings before they can take root and remind myself of the only two things that I will not compromise.

Family.

Soccer.

But standing on this sidewalk now, watching Nathan’s rideshare disappear into traffic, it doesn’t feel the same.

The city moves around me in a blur of headlights and noise, people passing by without a second glance, and all I can see is the back of his car driving away from me.

My arms wrap tightly around myself, fingers digging into my sleeves like I can hold everything in place if I don’t loosen my grip.

I take a step forward without meaning to, like some part of me still thinks I can stop him, as if he isn’t already gone.

His taillights vanish.

Something in my chest caves in.

Every other time I’ve made the right choice, I’ve been able to stand in it and breathe through it until it settled into something manageable.

This time, it feels like I’m carving something out of myself and leaving it behind.

I don’t even know how Nathan got under my skin like this. I tried to keep my distance, to hold my boundaries where they were safe and clear, but he slipped past every single one of them until he became one of the best parts of my day without me even realizing when it happened.

My breath comes in short, uneven bursts. My throat tightens, and I swallow hard against it, blinking quickly as the pressure builds behind my eyes.

No. Not here. Not like this.

“Wesley?”

Harper’s voice cuts through the noise behind me.

“I’m fine,” I say automatically, the words out before I even think about them. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I just got here. I was heading in, but I saw you.” She pauses, her voice softening. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”