Page 140 of With the Assist

My hands curl into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms. I’m still going to camp, which is a small mercy, but the one person I need to impress already thinks I don’t belong there. He thinks I’m unreliable, and unreliable people don’t make it onto the National Team.

Coach Bennett doesn’t speak right away.

She waits until his car disappears from the lot before turning back to me, her gaze sharp but not unkind.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

I swallow, pulling at my sleeve.

“No,” I say honestly. “But I will be.”

She watches me for another second, like she’s deciding how much weight to put behind what she says next.

“This isn’t like you. You’re one of the most disciplined players I have.”

I nod, swallowing past the tightness in my throat.

“When I told you it’s healthy to have a life outside of soccer. I meant it.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “But you are the last person I thought I’d have to remind that it can’t come at the expense of this. Soccer still has to be the priority.”

My heart might’ve broken into pieces when I drove away from Nathan, but now, those pieces cut into every part of me, leaving nothing whole in their wake.

I nod again because it’s all I can do. My mind is spiraling, replaying the night in brutal, perfect detail. We’d taken our time, neither of us wanting to let go. It hadn’t occurred to me once to check the clock or set an alarm. I was too lost in him.

And just like that, I’d forgotten the very thing I swore to never put second.

If I had walked away when I was supposed to, I’d have been early and prepared. I would’ve been exactly who they expected me to be.

Instead, I let myself want something other than this. I take a deep breath, resigning myself to the fact that I don’t have that luxury. Maybe someday, but not now.

“I won’t let it happen again,” I say, forcing the words out with conviction. “Ever.”

Coach Bennett searches my face. “Good.”

Then she turns and heads back into the stadium, leaving me alone in the parking lot with the consequences of my own choices.

I get into my car and shut the door, the silence pressing in on me immediately. My phone lights up as I plug it into the charger.

One new message.

Nathan: I hope it went okay. Please let me know if you’re alright.

Tears prick at my eyes, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I don’t fight them off. They trail down my cheeks in a stream that picks up speed the longer I let it happen. My head falls to my steering wheel as the sobs rack my body, wringing me dry until there is nothing left.

I’m not sure how long I let them fall, but eventually, the tears dry against my skin, making it tight.

For a second, my thumbs hover over his message, muscle memory begging me to respond. To let myself have one more moment. I could give us a soft ending instead of the sharp one from before.

But I don’t.

I lock the phone and drop it face down in the console.

A clean break.

That’s what this has to be.

Missing this session is exactly why we had an expiration date in the first place. We each got what we set out to get. Even without my response, he knows as well as I do what comes next. Distance. Space.

My future is fragile, and I will not gamble it away on feelings, no matter how real they felt in the dark.