Page 4 of Anatomy of Us

Then all we had left was Wesley and a pile of bad memories.

“When is the hearing?” I ask.

“Three months. Mid-April.”

April.

With the season started—if I even make it back as a starter. Right when I’ll need to prove I deserve a new contract.

“What do you need from me?”

“Documentation. Everything. Anything that shows you’re a good mother. Feeding schedules, pediatric visits. You know. Anything that helps.”

In the back seat, my son is asleep again. Car rides always calm him. He rests in his car seat, mouth a little open, lashes dark against his cheeks, unaware he’s become a pawn in a war that's already started between his parents.

This is going to be a damn nightmare.

Two fronts. I have to fight on two fronts at once: get my career back and win the custody fight for my son.

And Nate knows exactly what he’s doing. If I train too hard and win my spot back, I’m a bad mother who picks soccer over her baby. If I step away from the sport to focus on Wesley, I prove I can’t do both.

No matter what I do, he wins.

Chapter 2

Tessa

The whiskey burns the way it should: clean, sharp, no bullshit.

I’ve been in Seattle for two weeks and I still have boxes unopened. After seven years bouncing between Munich, Manchester, Barcelona, and now Seattle, I’ve gotten good at living out of half-unpacked suitcases. It’s a skill. A sad one. But it keeps me light enough to run.

Today the coach gives me exactly forty-two minutes of her time, which I’m told is generous. She repeats, more than once, that it will be hard to get the players to trust me the way they trusted my predecessor.

At least she’s direct. I like that in a coach.

Three players waiting for medical clearance. One of them coming back from a long maternity leave.

“You’ll have access keys to the files this afternoon,” she tells me before she leaves. “And, Tessa, the one who gave birth? I need her back. She’s… she’s special. Notfor sentimental reasons. When she’s fit, she’s the best midfielder I’ve ever coached. I want her evaluation first. Tomorrow at nine.”

A notification on my phone says she keeps her word. There it is. The key for the records.

I open the first file. Ankle sprain from playing beach volleyball with friends. Out four weeks, one left, range of motion back to ninety percent.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “She could’ve lost all preseason just to mess around on the sand.”

Second file. ACL surgery seven months ago. Final phase of rehab. Aggressive timeline, but still within normal limits.

Good.

I take another sip of whiskey. Longer this time. I tell myself I’ll glance at the last file and go to bed.

MÉNDEZ, Zoe

Position: Midfielder

Number: 10

Status: Maternity leave