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Our notebook.

I'd forgotten all about it, but then it dawned on me. I walked over to him.

"Wait. Where did you get this? Last I remembered, I put it in my nightstand."

He relocked the cabinet and handed it to me. "I noticed it when I was at your place on my birthday. You did not seem too keen on giving it back to me any time soon, so I took it. I had some things I needed to get off of my chest."

I glanced down at the notebook, wondering what he’d written and when he’d done it. What he needed to get out.

"I don't even remember the last thing I wrote in this."

Kova grinned and his eyes flashed with amusement. "It was…colorful to say the least." His smile grew. "Go back and read it when you get a moment. I did not expect those words to come from your lips, that is for sure. Cannot say I did not deserve them either. I quite liked that side of you."

Oh man. My mind raced back to when I last had it in my possession and what the hell I wrote. I flipped the pages open but Kova stopped me.

He was right, I had to go. Nodding, I said, "I'll talk to you after my appointment?"

His head tilted to the side. Kova regarded me. I could hardly see the brilliant emerald color of his eyes. Finally, he nodded.

Clutching the spiral notebook to my chest, I readjusted the strap of my duffle bag, gripping it tight in my hand. I left his office and threw the bag and notebook in the back seat of my truck. I couldn't wait to see what he wrote.

Late into the afternoon, I sat on the patient table listening to the doctor go over my results from the ultrasound she'd just done on my Achilles.

By some miracle, and much to my surprise, I hadn't had any new tears, just the same micro-tears as before that were a little deeper, along with some inflammation. I couldn't believe it. I thought for sure I'd torn it.

"You seem shocked," the doctor said.

"That's because I am. I thought I’d torn something more, or worse. It was really bad. I could hardly walk. I was prepared to put up a fight."

"Well, you aren't far from tearing your Achilles completely. All that tightness and burning you feel is due to overuse, which is completely normal for an athlete of your stature given the sport you play. Once the season is over, I highly suggest we schedule surgery to repair the tears and give your injury the proper time to heal. I don't see you lasting another season with this. It's better to repair it while we can, which means less healing time if you tear it completely."

I sat staring unblinking at the doctor. After this season, after the Olympics, if I made it that far, I was supposed to start dialysis. After this season, I considered college. After this season, I wanted to still try to compete.

I could feel the blood draining from my face, feel the cold seeping into my bones at what my future held. I didn't like it.

The doctor regarded me. "Is everything okay?"

My jaw bobbed. "Ah, yeah, it's fine. I just recently discovered I'll need dialysis after the season too, and I was thinking about how I'm supposed to fit in a surgery on top of that now. Eventually I'm going to need a transplant down the line," I said. Lines formed between her eyes. "I have stage four kidney disease."

This time the doctor’s brows rose to her hairline and her eyes widened. "You have stage four kidney disease, and you're still competing?" I nodded and she whistled under her breath. "I wouldn't worry yourself about how you'll be able to fit it all in. Given the declining state of your health, I'd meet with your team of doctors and devise a plan. It's manageable."

My shoulders sagged. Relief coursed through me and I smiled. "Thank you."

"If you're not on dialysis yet, are you on medication? Steroids?"

"Oh, yes. I take a lot of p

ills a day just to get through it."

I reached into my purse and pulled out the notecard listing my medications. I handed it to the doctor and her eyes scanned over it. Dad had said the doctor might ask what I was taking and to bring the paper instead of having to carry the bottles. It was a good idea.

"Do you have an infection? You're on a few antibiotics."

I nodded. "I have a kidney infection. A bad one I was told." I blinked when it hit me. My jaw fell open. "I'm so stupid! I've had terrible pain in my back to the point that I've been sick to my stomach. I completely forgot I have a kidney infection. I thought it was a side effect of the medications or lack of appetite I've had." I shook my head to myself, feeling so dumb that I forgot about this. "I can't believe I forgot," I said out loud.

"It's natural for something to slip your mind given your situation, especially in your position. Don't beat yourself up over it. That being said, I would highly suggest you be in constant contact with your specialist and let the doctor know of the pain you're dealing with. If you're on medication, the infection should've started to clear up by now. Also, you can't take steroids a week before any platelet injection, should you need another, so we'll have to plan for that. You're on a few right now."

My teeth worried my bottom lip. I hadn't thought of that and now I felt even more stupid for not thinking about it beforehand. I just knew not to take the anti-inflammatory medications.

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