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Not nearly as amused as I am, Cass shoots me a deadpan look. “I quite literally did, Sunday.”
‘I quite literally asked you to fuck me. Do you blame me?”
He shakes his head.
“Good because I don’t blame you. You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t hurt the baby.” I pause—for maximum, dramatic impact, of course. “You’re hurting us a little now, though, by pretending we don’t exist. No running away, remember?”
“Fuck.” He breathes the word like it hurts and then I’m in his arms, tucked tightly against him, held like I’ve been aching to be all day. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t acknowledge his unnecessary apology; I just bury my face in his chest, sighing my relief. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”
With a heavy exhale, his body goes slack. “Yes, please.”
38
CASS
From the passengerseat of my car, my sister frowns at me. “I thought you’d be happy.”
My grip on the steering wheel tightens. “I am happy.”
“You don’t seem happy.”
I don’t reply, but that doesn’t deter Amelia. “This is what you wanted.”
“I know.”
“Is it not—”
“Amelia, please. I just wanna get home, okay?” Get back into bed, curl up with the woman I left there, make sure nothing has happened in the couple of hours I’ve been away.
The sympathy softening her features does nothing to stifle her inquisition. “You got cleared to play, Cass.”
I know. I was there. I watched Dr. Davies discuss my latest scans and consult Amelia’s physio notes. Loud and clear, I heard the lengthy list of warnings he gave before he confirmed I was back to playing form.
I’m just not quite sure it’s sunk in yet.
Amelia’s right. This is exactly what I wanted. This is exactly what I’ve been working towards for months, exactly what I’ve been longing for for months, exactly the moment I’ve been dreaming of for months. But it doesn’t feel as… I don’t know.Rewardingas I thought it would. There’s no vindication in proving I could do it. No satisfaction.
I swear, I was disappointed for a second. Elated for another. Terrified for a third. Then all three mingled until I couldn’t distinguish one from another, culminating in the confused, torn feeling turning my stomach.
Because Icanplay again. Whether Iwillor not is still up in the air.
Amelia sighs as she reaches out to set a hand on my perfectly healed shoulder. “C’mon, Cassie. Talk to me.”
“I…” don’t know what to say? Don’t know how I feel? “I wanna talk to Sunday first, okay?”
I didn’t tell her the specifics of the appointment; just that I had physio with Amelia. If I didn’t get cleared, I didn’t want the pity. If I did… well, obviously I don’t know what to do with that either.
Smiling like she knows something I don’t, Amelia nods. She keeps smiling as she slumps, silent for the rest of the drive home except when I drop her off and she kisses my cheek and murmurs that she loves me before waddling up her driveway, rubbing her stomach thoughtfully. Herpregnantstomach that only serves to remind me of what being able to play again really means—leaving. Leaving Sunday, leaving August, leaving my baby girl.
I don’t want to think about that right now. I just want to get home, see for myself Sunday is okay, make her the breakfast I promised as compensation for waking her up at the crack of dawn.
When I open my front door, though, I find someone else has already beat me to it.
