Page 34 of Anatomy of Us
“We’re idiots.”
Wesley opens his eyes, stares at me for one surprised second, reaches out, and grabs my nose.
“I think he likes me,” I whisper, stroking his cheek.
“His mom does too,” Zoe says, and she blows me a kiss.
Then she smiles, Wes falls asleep, and I close my eyes.
I listen to their breathing, and as sleep pulls me under, I think this isn’t perfect, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Chapter 11
Zoe
Landing in Seattle after Florida feels like crossing into another dimension. Rain greets us like an old friend. The Orlando sun is gone. The sticky heat. The constant AC. The blue skies. Seattle this time of year is gray, wet, and cold enough to creep under your collar.
Wesley complains in the baby carrier. A few drops hit his face outside the airport and he lets me know, loudly, that he hates it.
“That kid’s starting to pick up Iris’s attitude,” Hades mutters as she passes me. “If I were you, I’d watch out.”
But what hurts most is stepping off the plane fifteen feet from Tessa and pretending we’re strangers after spending the second week of camp sleeping together. She talks to Sara about something that looks important. She barely glances at me. Professional distance, like we agreed.
The next days turn into a routine that feels weirdly comforting. Morning training with the team while Wesleystays with my mom. Lunch. Nap. Sometimes rehab or another session in the afternoon.
Sara runs my rehab on paper. We don’t want problems. Tessa supervises from a distance, always professional, always correct. She talks through everything with the technical staff. Hades insists on documenting every decision and staying in the loop. With the asshole I married and divorced, she’s probably right.
Still, it wears me out to pretend I don’t think about her nonstop. To pass her in the facility and not grab her, drag her somewhere private, bite her clothes off, and make love until my brain shuts up.
Thursday afternoon, when I’m about to leave, Hades stops me by the elbow before I can slip out.
“Zoe. A minute.”
My blood turns to ice. It’s never good when she wants to talk alone. Her face is hard to read, but it always is.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, careful, once we’re in her office and she shuts the door.
“You should sit,” she says, pointing at a chair across from her desk with one blunt finger.
Bad sign.
“You’re not renewing me, are you?” I murmur.
“What? Jesus, Zoe.” Hades rubs her forehead like I give her a headache on purpose. “You’ve been in this game too long. The season hasn’t even started. I have no idea if I’mrenewing you. Right now you’re adapting well to training. You’re not the fastest midfielder on the roster yet, but you’re the smartest.” She leans back. “This isn’t about that. It’s something else.”
“Okay,” I say, shrugging, not sure if I should feel more or less scared.
“Did you talk to Tessa this morning?”
“About what?”
“About an ethics complaint she received.”
“What? What do you mean an ethics complaint?” Confusion spikes into my voice.
“An anonymous complaint has reached the league,” Hades says, jaw tight, like she’s already picturing paperwork. “It alleges an inappropriate relationship between a medical staff member and a player. Conflict of interest and all that crap. Possible favoritism in medical calls, blah, blah, blah. The usual bullshit.”
“Diana, I—”