Page 26 of Rivals and Liars

"You said you set goals," she starts. "What kind?"

"When the headache wore off and I felt a little clearer, I sat down on the floor of my patio with a notebook and a pen. I didn't even have a plan when I picked it up, but when I opened it and saw the blank page, I pictured my life looking like that—empty, nothing filling it—and I understood that no one was going to fill it for me. I had to do it myself."

Rachel pauses and watches Kate, reading her focused expression as she stares straight ahead, where so much water stretches out that the ocean looks a deep blue close to the color of Rachel's eyes.

"I started thinking about everything I'd always wanted to do and kept putting off because my career wouldn't allow it. Elite sports gives you a lot, Kate—but I think you'd agree it takes things away from you too." She pauses again, letting the words settle. "I love to travel. And I realized that even though I'd been to a lot of countries, I'd never actually seen any of them. So I wrote down that I wanted to travel—and then that I'd sign up for a cooking class and a ceramics class."

Kate looks at her and lets out a small laugh through her nose.

"And did you?"

"Absolutely. I actually did three cooking classes, and I dropped the ceramics one because the clay drying on my hands drove me crazy."

Kate laughs again.

"I traveled too—only the cities I actually wanted to see. I started making time for friends I hadn't seen in years. I was the one steering my own life instead of the sport doing it for me. And I realized I could be happy that way too."

"And how did you become—this? A coach, I guess?"

"That's one way to put it. It started with a former teammate. A year after I retired, something similar happened to her and she called me in a panic, asking for advice. I had nothing going on, so I flew to her country and spent a month with her—guiding her, being there. And when I saw that I'd spared her all the suffering I went through at the beginning, I felt so complete that I decided to get trained and make it my work."

Kate runs her finger along her scar while Rachel watches her from the corner of her eye.

"What about you?" Rachel asks. "Is there something you've always wanted to do that your schedule never allowed?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Nothing's coming to me right now."

"How about we make it an exercise? Think about it over the next few days—no pressure—and we'll talk it through as you go."

"Okay," Kate agrees, confident this is something she can do.

"Do you have family?"

"Yes. In Australia."

"Do you talk to them? Do they know what's going on?" Rachel asks.

"Yes. I talk to my mom a couple of times a week, and to my brother Conor. He's the one I'm closest to."

"Good—leaning on the people we love matters. This is a hard thing to swallow, and so much harder if you try to do it alone."

"I have Diane. I'm not alone."

Kate goes still after she hears herself say it, and her heart starts hammering when she realizes her words were honest—she does have Diane, she feels that woman's support in every gesture and every word out of her mouth—but she doesn't feel like she has Leire's support, even knowing Leire is out there.

"Hey." Rachel gently brushes her arm. "Where did you go?"

The redhead turns and looks at her, finding a warmth in Rachel's blue eyes that closes her throat.

"Sorry," she murmurs.

"It's okay." Rachel runs her hand along Kate's back in a soft, steadying gesture—and Kate blinks back anger when she feels the comfort it gives her, because something that simple is exactly what she needs from Leire right now. For it to be her who's here, not a stranger. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Kate chews the inside of her cheek a few times.

"Are you a therapist too?"

"No, but I'm human and I notice things. And Diane may have told me a little more."