Page 13 of Five Things I See in You

Amara notices. She leans back in her chair and waits. I don’t know if she realizes she moved too fast or if she’s always this direct.

“I don’t know,” I answer after letting out a long sigh. “I was always afraid of his comments. There was no when.”

Luckily, she steers the session back and we talk about more general things. She hit the nail on the head, we both know it, but it’s better not to get that close to the edge of the cliff on the first visit.

***

On Saturday we play at home. I score a goal and celebrate with the fans packing the stands.

I don’t look once toward where I know Jordan is.

During games, my body runs on autopilot. I don’t need to think. It’s been that way for over twenty years: I run, control the ball, take it down the outside, look up, and find Iris inside the box. It’s strange. I’ve spent my whole life playing to earn my father’s approval, and it turns out you can also play without thinking about him.

On Sunday I don’t leave my apartment. I watch Callum’s game on my tablet, I organize my closet, I look for stupid things to keep me busy, I even cook. My phone buzzes every now and then, and each time I tense up. It’s never my father.

It’s the worst week since I got to Seattle. And the first one was awful, so that’s saying a lot.

Chapter 9

Jordan

The letter has been in the drawer since Monday. I wrote it on Sunday, in one sitting, because I knew exactly what needed to be said. The next morning, instead of leaving it on Tessa’s desk, I tucked it under a box of paper clips I never use anymore.

It’s still there on Tuesday, and on Wednesday too.

The worst part is that it’s not indecision, because the decision is made. The truth is, I have no other choice. Anything else would go against my professional ethics.

I’m the one who’s waiting, looking for a way to make this turn out well for everyone and not just for me.

I built this program from scratch when I joined the Seattle Emeralds six seasons ago. Now there’s a solid protocol in place and almost every player on the team has been through my office. And of all people, everything gets complicated with the player we just paid a record fee for. The same one I drove home two weeks ago while not wanting to let go of her hand. The same one I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that moment.

Technically, there’s no clinical relationship to cut off. Noa Reeves never actually became my patient; Valeria did the intake, and the follow-up is voluntary and she never asked for it. Ethically, it’s a different story, because I’m the one who runs the club’s mental health services.

A recusal keeps me out of potential trouble. Even so, I’ve spent the whole week telling myself that I can handle it, that I’m capable of keeping a professional distance from Noa, because nothing has happened between us yet and because we’re two adult women who know how to set boundaries.

On Friday, Tessa reads my resignation letter, barely able to believe it. She stops several times, reads it again, and when she finishes, she sets it on the desk, resting two fingers on it like it might run off somewhere.

“Is this an ethical decision, or are you running away?” she blurts out, raising her eyebrows.

“Obviously, it’s an ethical decision. I think it’s the right thing,” I defend myself.

“You answered that really fast.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a week.”

She leans forward and points at me with her pen.

“You know it’s not legally required, right? You could stay. You could recuse yourself from anything involving Noa and let Valeria handle the follow-up or therapy if she requests it. You haven’t broken any protocol, nobody is pushing you out of here. This is insane, Jordan. You’ve been with this team for six years and the players love you. I don’t understand what’s going through your head to make you resign.”

“Even if I can legally stay, I can’t run this program while feeling what I feel every time I see her. I can’t pretend a recusal fixes what I’m starting to feel, and you see it the same way I do. You had a somewhat similar situation with Zoe a few seasons ago, but because this involves mental health care, it’s so much more serious.”

Tessa runs a hand over the back of her neck. She doesn’t remind me that I’m the one who wrote the manual I’m now applying to myself, even though we’re both thinking it.

“Drummond is going to ask why you’re doing this,” she says at last.

“Personal reasons. Obviously, I’m not going to explain to anyone that I’ve started having feelings for a player, because I don’t even know if she feels it too. Anyway, Valeria has been in the program for a year and a half, she’s well trained. It’s a natural transition.”

“It still seems like bullshit to me. What do you want me to say? You’re making a huge sacrifice, this sounds more like running away than anything else. Or like punishing yourself for feeling what you feel, and that I understand even less.”