Page 122 of The Replay

Several years, in fact. I have not seen him since he told me to let Mariana go.

He shakes my hand with a firm grasp that I echo.

"We're glad to hear you're recovering well," Alicia tells me. "We asked all about it at the Vortex game last night."

I steal a glance at Cora and Mariana. This is the first time I hear about them asking about it again. Cora can only tell them what's already official through the normal team channels, but Mariana could have told them a lot more.

It seems they were not satisfied with whatever Cora told them the first time.

"Thank you," I say. "My plan is to be back in time to help my team win another championship."

"That's the kind of ambition we believe in," Alicia says. "Good for you, Dom."

I got to hear them talk about it all those years ago. Telling their children that in ambition they'd find success and a life worth living. They told their daughters that working in philanthropy would give them meaning and integrity, because the world wouldn't let them become pro athletes and let them go far like with the boys. And to their sons, they said they'd get all doors open, and they had to prove they deserved it if they wanted a good career post-retirement. They didn't want any of their children wasting opportunities to do right by their family, their ethics, and their own goals.

Being a professional athlete was never ambitious enough for their children, but it can be for a guy like me. And with my injury now, and how it can block me from participating in a new championship win… how it might rob me from the glory of being an active part in a team doing something as rare, and as thrilling as two championship rings in a row after a long dry spell…

Good for you, she said. To my ears it sounds condescending.

They move their attention to my friends, and chat politely with them. Mariana and I exchange a couple of long looks, but don't talk. In her parents' eyes, we're not close.

A rebellious part of me wants to invite her for a short stroll, even if I have no good excuse to bring her aside. All I want is to provoke a reaction from her parents. Fill them with questions. Even worries, perhaps. But Mariana would take the brunt of their doubts, so I hold back.

Restlessness itches right under my skin. It costs me to bite my tongue, but I make myself remain quiet, until the group leaves a short time later. I watch them walk away and eventually join another group.

"That was a power move," Bear says my way.

Logan nods. "Subtle, but effective."

"What was?" I ask.

Evie arches an eyebrow. "Calling him by his first name."

I lift a shoulder. "I don't mind that you guys noticed that."

Back when I first met this family, I don't remember getting into this defensive mood so quickly. It must be the ghosts of the past, haunting me again.

"I did notice a few other things," Evie says. "Like how ramrod straight you got."

"Did I?"

"Or how clipped your words were," Pen adds.

I still have a few days to go using my crutches, but I put my weight on my legs, rest my aids on a post nearby, and stretch my hands and arms. Splayed fingers go into a fist, on and off a few times. When curled tight, I tighten them more.

"That part wasn't on purpose," I finally reply.

"You don't like them, do you?" Bear says.

I sigh. Thoughts multiply in my head. I'm not sure how much to tell them.

"You all know I have history with them." I sigh again. Deeper, this time.

And even all these years later, me being a fully grown adult, I expect they want to give me another talking to. I almost wish they would, so I could say everything I wish I had said back then. The number one being to leave Mariana and me alone.

"It's funny," Bear says. "Of all of us, I didn't expect Dom to be the one with the most obvious chance to change history."

I frown. "What do you mean?"