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That’s not nearly as surprising as it probably should have been, but I still can’t help but ask. “So they were supportive through the healing process? Your parents, I mean.”

“God, no.” The dry, choked laugh he let out breaks my heart.

“I didn’t expect them to be. They hired every nurse and physical therapist I needed, but they weren’t there for me at all.

I wasn’t in a great place after the accident; there was a lot of survivor’s guilt, and I was mad about losing swimming.

Swimming was the last hope I had of ever having a normal relationship with my parents. ”

I could picture it, and I hated the mental image so much. Ronan doing the bare minimum to survive, ignoring advice and guidance from his doctors, drowning in the guilt of survival every second.

“What…” The question dies on my lips, not wanting to ask it. Not knowing how to ask it correctly.

“What got me back on track?” Of course, he knew what I was trying to get at. “You won’t believe me if I said it.”

I match the small grin he gives me with one of my own. “Try me.”

He pauses for a moment, staring me down like he’s trying to figure out what my reaction would be. “Did you know Bryce Clark is one stubborn asshole?”

My jaw drops open. “No way.”

Ronan nods with a light laugh. “He flew out to California whenever he could—always made a point to be around when my physical therapist was there. When he found out there was no physical reason for me to not be walking on my own, he lost his shit, and gave me the tough love I needed. He reminded me that there was more to live for and refusing to do it was an insult to the person who didn’t walk away from the crash. ”

Ronan clears his throat, combing his fingers through his dark hair.

“The worst part is he was right then and is still right now. There are so many people out there who never get a second chance, not like this. Why would I waste it? And you know what? If there had never been a chance I would walk again—if I never got better in that way—my life wasn’t over.

And Bryce would have been there to remind me of that, too. ”

In the year after Ronan retired, there were meets Bryce didn’t attend.

Huge opportunities for the national team that he, and sometimes Carter, were absent from.

When Josie or I asked about them, the team brushed us off, saying they had to take care of something personal.

It was Ronan. Bryce stepped up to offer the support Ronan needed when his own family failed him.

“Does Josie know?”

Mouth full, Ronan shrugs. “I’m not sure what she knows. Between your reaction and the overall way she treats me, I don’t think she knows. Which is something I need to talk to him about; I don’t want any more secrets.”

“The way she treats you? Are you referring to the way my empathetic best friend’s eyes well up like a puppy whenever someone gets so much as a paper cut?”

He grins around his fork, nodding. “Yup. Imagine what she would do if she saw the scar on my hip and leg.”

I laugh lightly, but my eyes dart to where I suspect the scar to be. If he notices the movement, he doesn’t say anything. “But you’re okay now, right?”

“Aside from chronic pain and a total shift in life, I’m good,” he promises me. “Therapy has helped a lot. Both with dealing with my accident and everything else.” I nod, chewing on my lip. That he notices. “Come on, Mia. You can’t offend me. Ask me whatever you want to know.”

That’s a pretty dangerous request because I have a lot of questions, but I don’t want to make him talk about this more than he should. “I’m assuming it was some kind of a crush injury in the leg?”

“Yeah, the car rolled a couple of times, and I was pinned beneath it when the fire department got there. They took me right into surgery to repair the leg, but they weren’t sure they could save it.

I don’t remember the days after the surgery.

I have the nerve damage mostly under control between therapy and occasional medications, but the pain flares up still.

Thankfully, no complications came from the surgery or injury itself.

I was in bad shape, though. Bryce told me he wouldn’t have known it was me if he hadn’t demanded answers from my parents when he couldn’t get ahold of me. ”

“Okay, now that I can picture.” I grin at him, taking another sip of coffee.

There’s a small, fond smile on his face. It amazes me to see him look back on something traumatic in that light. To pull the positive memories from the negative ones. He could be angry, he could rage against the world and his parents, but instead he’s chosen to move forward.

“And is this what made you start Operation Fly?” I ask, wanting to know everything. In a matter of hours, I went from not wanting to say a single word to him to needing to keep talking to him despite this cloud still looming over us.

“Kind of.” He reaches for the bread pan and cuts us both another slice without even asking.

Which is fine. I would have gone for my own once he was done.

“The driver of the car I was in was a single dad; his kid went to his grandmother. I couldn’t attend the funeral, but I made a sizable donation to the family to cover the costs and help get the kid settled into his new life more.

I sent a card with my cell number and told them to let me know if they ever needed anything.

About a year after the accident, I got a call from the grandmother.

She wanted her grandson to learn how to swim, but couldn’t afford the lessons.

She knew who I was and asked if I knew of any community efforts to get him lessons for free. ”

“If you tell me you taught that little boy how to swim, I am going to cry.” The tears are already stinging the corners of my eyes. His cheeks flushed pink. “Oh, my god, Ronan.”

“He was a good kid,” he explains, like this one little gesture didn’t do something amazing for that kid. And lead to something bigger. “Plus, we all gotta start somewhere, right? ”

“You’re a good man, Ronan,” I tell him, the truth slipping out before I can stop it. “I know I don’t always act like I believe it, but it’s true.”

Ronan gives me a tighter smile. The reality that there’s still something between us comes creeping back in. “I think I call this progress. What about you?”

“We’ll go with progress because there’s no way I’m leaving until we eat at least half of this.”

I end up staying another hour, but the conversation never got as personal as it started.

We talk about the club, Operation Fly, and Lezak, who, after waking up from a nap, decides I need to play with him.

Which has the two of us running around Ronan’s living room and earns me several laughs from Ronan.

I don’t pull out my phone until I’m walking back to my car, Ronan’s door quietly closing behind me.

New tears sting my eyes as I type a message.

Thank you for being the stubborn asshole you are.

Bryce’s reply is instant.

Bryce: He told you then?

He did.

I'll fill Josie in tonight, then.

How are you doing? I know it's a lot.

I don't know yet.