Page 50 of Anatomy of Us

I nod while I keep pulling bottles from the fridge.

“And because you needed to see yourself as part of the group,” she continues. “You may not step on the field like they do, but you’re a big part of this team. And you’re Zoe’s partner.” Her mouth tilts like she knows exactly what she’s doing. “And I see how you look at her and that kid like they’re the most precious thing on earth. This time, I know you aren’t going anywhere like you did seven years ago.” She winks.

“This time I stay,” I tell her.

“Good,” she murmurs, and turns on her heel to head back to the yard.

**

By eight, the sun starts to drop and people start leaving.

By ten, the house is completely silent.

Dishes in the dishwasher. Trash bags in the bin. Iris’s rubber ball forgotten under the couch, waiting for Wesley to find it tomorrow.

Wesley fell asleep over an hour ago. Iris put him down while Zoe said goodbye to the rest of the team. Iris sang a mash-up of songs, making up lyrics when she forgot, and somehow it worked.

Zoe drops onto the couch beside me. She smiles and rests her head on my shoulder, wrapping an arm around my waist.

And in these minutes, the world feels perfect.

Chapter 17

Zoe

It’s 2:14 a.m., and I can’t sleep.

And this time I can’t blame Wesley. He sleeps in his travel crib beside us, arms thrown over his head with that loose, boneless peace only babies pull off.

My brain won’t shut up anyway.

Semifinal tomorrow. Against Portland. In their stadium, with twenty-two thousand people who hate us, against the team that knocked us out the last two years.

Jade starts. That’s already decided. And it’s probably right. She earned every minute this season while I rebuild my body piece by piece. I come off the bench later to organize play.

I get out of bed because lying here and running the same thoughts on a loop makes no sense. It’s torture. In this hotel, Hades lets me share a room with Tessa. “It’s for the kid,” she says. She even gets us a suite so we’re more comfortable.

I pull a bottle of water from the minibar even though I’m not thirsty. I drink it standing at the window, watching my reflection. Thirty. Almost thirty-one. Mom. Elite athlete trying to be elite again. A woman in love with someone who already wrecked her once.

“You should be sleeping,” Tessa says behind me.

“You too.”

“I know.” Her voice stays low. “But I’m not playing tomorrow. You are.” She slips her arms around me from behind and kisses my neck.

I turn inside her embrace. She wears one of my old T-shirts, too big on her, the collar sagging off one shoulder so I can see her collarbone. No makeup. No armor. The version of Tessa only I get. The one I like most.

“I can’t sleep,” I admit, letting out a long breath.

“Come here,” she says, taking my hand and leading me to the couch.

She curls into the corner by the armrest, knees bent, and pulls me down until my head rests between her thighs like they’re a pillow.

“Are you nervous?” she asks, combing my hair with her fingers.

“No.” I swallow. “I’m terrified.”

“About the game?” She snorts softly. “Zoe, you play World Cups. Olympics.”