Page 63 of Offside

"No. I don't want to leave just because leaving is cleaner," I said.

"What do you want?" she asked.

The answer was bigger than Bishop. I liked the direct work with players.

I wanted Vicki's refusal to reassure me when the facts already did. I wanted Zoe disagreeing with my progression and making me prove it. I wanted Eriksson inventing his silly structural failures and Hayes pretending a question was casual after carrying it for a week. I wanted the program we'd improved over time with limited resources and people who understood why that mattered.

I wanted my apartment with the damn radiator until I chose another one, and I wanted the history I'd made here—including the parts that were no longer clean. I wanted Colt inside that life, if he would have me.

"Chicago," I said. "I want the life I have here."

"Then you have your answer," she said. "Denver can still be a good offer."

"It's difficult to turn down something that good," I said.

"You can respect what they're offering and still choose the life you want most," she reminded me.

The man got the tree into the car by leaving half of it through an open window.

"Thank you," I said. "That was what I needed."

"Send a picture," she said. "I want proof this man exists." She laughed and ended the call before I could object again.

Karin Halvorsen answered on the first ring Christmas morning, sounding as alert as she had after my panel.

"I wasn't expecting you until next week," she said. "Has something changed?"

"I didn't want to wait until the deadline just because you gave me one."

"All right," Karin said. "I'm listening."

I stood at my apartment window. The Denver offer was open on the desk behind me.

"I'm declining," I said. "The decision is final."

Karin was quiet for a moment. "Is there a counter that could change the answer?"

"No. The offer is generous, but it would take me away from the work I value most," I said.

"Direct care," she guessed.

"And the colleagues and program I have in Chicago," I added.

"And the player who appeared in every example after your panel in July?"

I smiled despite myself. "He's part of the life I'm choosing. He didn't ask me to make the choice."

"Would you stay if he left?" she asked suddenly. "You should answer that honestly."

The contract hadn't been resolved, and the independent assessment hadn't happened. Bishop could still decide the future Chicago offered him was too narrow.

"Yes," I said. "I would be hurt, but I would still know why I stayed."

"Then I believe you," she said. "You're choosing Chicago for yourself."

She didn't make me defend my answer. She told me the door to future professional conversations remained open. I thanked her for the offer. When the call ended, I sent the formal decline by email, then called Bishop.

He answered over enough voices to fill a room, then moved away from them so he could hear me.