Page 112 of Play For Me

Relief crashes through me. She’s going to be able to play again. I hadn’t really let myself think about the alternative because it would havedevastatedher. Even thinking about it, of her losing something so important to her, of the heartbreak she would feel, was physically painful to me.

The team doctor and the surgeon are discussing recommendations for her recovery and I snap to attention, determined to be completely on top of this. They want her off the field for at least two weeks—that’s going to be fun to enforce. Devon meets my eye and grins ruefully, probably thinking the exact same thing.

But Cecelia remains mostly quiet as Devon, her parents, and the two doctors discuss her treatment. “All right then,” Dr. Patel says eventually. “Let’s get you back home so you can rest up. Ice, elevation, and compression tonight. And stay off it as much as possible. Understood?”

She nods, still mute.

“You can head out, too,” Devon says to me. “I’ll confer with the Dr. Patel and fill you in on the details. We’ll probably get herstarted with some pool workouts this week, keep her weight off it until the swelling goes down.”

“Right,” I say, preoccupied by Cecelia’s continued quiet.

“I think she’s in shock,” Devon murmurs to me as the Ransomes shake hands with the surgeon. “Not like her to be this subdued.”

“Probably,” I agree. “She was sure it was another tear.”

“Well, thank God it’s not,” he says, then turns to say goodbye to the Ransomes.

It’s hard not to take her hand once we’re back in the hallway outside the sports medicine office. No one is really around on a Sunday, but it’s still not a smart risk to take. Instead, I force myself to walk a few steps behind the Ransomes.

“Fuck, I’m glad you don’t have to have surgery,” Cash is saying. “Not sure I could survive that again.”

“You’re not sureyoucould survive it?” Cecelia asks drily. “You get that I’d be the one undergoing said surgery, right?”

“I don’t like when my kids are in the hospital,” he mutters.

“I think I’m the real winner here,” Sam says brightly. “Because now I don’t have to deal with your father if you were in the hospital.” Cecelia laughs, which I’m sure was Sam’s intent. She’s been casting sidelong looks at her daughter since the doctor delivered the news. I think she’s a little worried about how quiet she’s being.

“You stay here,” Cash says once we near the front entrance. “I’ll pull the car around.”

I assume Sam will wait with us but she looks between me and her daughter before nodding to herself and going to join her husband.

It’s a relief to be alone with Cecelia. I take the chance to reach out and run my hands down her arms. “You doing okay?”

She looks up at me and I can see how dazed she is. “Did he really say it was okay? I didn’t hallucinate that?”

I smile. “No, baby. You didn’t hallucinate.”

“I’m going to be okay?”

I take a step closer, no longer able to stand the forced distance between us. All I’ve wanted to do since she walked into this building, so obviously scared, is to take care of her. “I’m sure you’re going to drive me absolutely insane over the next few weeks refusing to do what you’re told, but other than that, everything is going to be okay.”

She lets out a noise, part laugh, part sob, and then throws herself into my arms. I catch her, lifting her up off her feet, the crutches clattering to the wall behind us. “I think it just hit me,” she says into my ear, her breath hot against my neck. “I still get to play.”

“You still get to play,” I confirm.

“I don’t know what I would have done, Sol.” Her voice is shaky. “I don’t even know who I am without soccer.”

I squeeze her tighter. “I know who you are.”

She pulls back, looking up into my face, and I take the moment to study her expression. She looks both relieved and freaked out as she shakes her head. “I’m serious,” she says. “It’s been my whole life for so long.”

“That’s just not true. It’s been a huge part of your life, but it hasn’t been the whole thing. If you couldn’t play anymore, it would be a fucking tragedy, because I know how much you love it. But it wouldn’t change who you are.”

She doesn’t say anything, just looking at me with a bewildered expression, like she really doesn’t know.

I bring a hand up to cup her cheek. “You would still be you. Brave and loyal and kind and fierce and funny and all the other things that make everyone love you.”

I almost say it—that I love her, too. That I love her more than I ever thought I was capable of and it scares me to death. But I figure she has enough to be dealing with right now.