Page 148 of Just One Look

“A slight improvement on that spinal curvature,” Nils had told him. “But you’d want to see more than that at this point. There’s no way to tell whether it will come right, but if you’re still hoping to return, you’re going to need to continue with limited loads. If you do that, there’s still a chance. We’ll wait and see.” And there was Luka’s world, and the bottom dropping out of it.

Spear tackler’s spine.

He’d asked Nils not to tell Elizabeth. Better to wait until he could present her with the final verdict, he’d thought. Or maybe just better to wait until he could stand to talk about it. Until he could stand toknowit, and to deal with whatever would happen between them after he did tell her, if he wasn’t a rugby player anymore.

Now, he didn’t have to tell her.

Spear tackle. When the opposing player lifted you in the air, then dropped you so you came down on your head. A spear tackle could kill you. Or it could just paralyze you, so you’d never move again, and your life as you knew it would be over.

It was his to handle alone, the same way everything else in his life had been, and he could do that. He was used to it. He wasn’t a man who backed down, and he wasn’t a man who gave up. He was a man who moved on. He’d be that man again, that was all.

He could do it. He had to do it.

“Doesn’t sound like there’s much to talk about,” he said, coming to a stop at the end of the shingle drive. “We’ve had a good time, and you got what you came here for, I guess. You’ll want to talk to Webster’s owners, though, if you’re leaving their dog. And you may want to put on your jacket. Still pissing down out there.”

* * *

She’d been punchedin the stomach. She’d been hollowed out.

He didn’t even want totalkabout it? He was just … fine? She sat there as he pulled things from the trunk of the car, then jumped out, ran around in the rain, which was now at the “soaking you and pretending it isn’t” stage, grabbed her suitcase out of his hand, and said, “Your neck! Don’t do that! That’s heavy, and you can’t get it out of there with the right body mechanics.”

The face he turned on her was stony, the rain pearling in his hair, because he hadn’t put his hood up. “I have a surgeon,” he said. “I don’t need your supervision. You’ve thought it was fun to play at being a couple, but I reckon every play ends sometime.” He pulled the suitcase down. After that, he grabbed his duffel, slammed the trunk, turned around, and carried them up to the kitchen door.

She followed him. Of course she did. She hurried, said, “Luka, I …” But the door was already open, and he was holding it for her, that blankness still on his face.

She’d known this conversation would be awkward. She’d been so scared to bring it up. She’d never expected it to end like this, though.

She couldn’t breathe.