I still don’t trust him. I don’t think I ever truly will. But if he meant what he said––if he’s really finished coming for me, coming for Magnolia––I might be able to let the weight of the last few years go.
Maybe.
My tension melts away when the driveway comes into view because of who’s waiting for me inside the house. And I’m grateful I get to come home to her.
The door clicks shut behind me, and the smell of something delicious drifts in from the kitchen.
She’s barefoot, swaying to one of her weird songs humming through the speakers, a tea towel slung over one shoulder. Her hair’s clipped up in that way that always looks unintentional, even though I know better.
She looks up when I enter. “Hey, you. Practice ran late?”
I go to her without answering and pull her into my arms. She melts into my embrace, and I rest my chin on the top of her head, closing my eyes.
“Has something happened?”
“David called me into his office after practice.”
She pulls back enough to see my face. “Why?”
I take a breath. “Tyson called him and asked to see me. At the hospital.”
Her eyes flash. “You didn’t go, did you?”
“I did.”
Her brows lift, and she stiffens in my arms. “Let me guess. He’s going to use his injury as an opportunity to cause trouble for you?”
“He’s in worse shape than I guessed. Spiral fracture. Surgery, traction, the works.”
Magnolia goes still. She opens her mouth, closes it, and finally says, “Oh.”
“They did scans—standard pre-op stuff––and found cancer.”
Magnolia’s breath catches. “Cancer? Are you serious?”
“Yeah. It’s aggressive, advanced, but caught early enough to treat. He’s got a solid shot at remission.”
She leans back against the counter, stunned. “Damn, Alex.”
“He told me if I hadn’t taken him down, they’d never have caught it. That hit saved his life.”
Magnolia exhales. “Guardian angel—bet you never saw that coming.”
I shake my head, half smiling. “Guardian angel’s a stretch. But he told me we don’t have to worry about him anymore—and somehow, I believe him.”
Magnolia comes to me, arms sliding around my waist as I fold her into a hug. We stay that way, grounded in each other, while the music hums low in the background. Just the two of us and a silence that doesn’t have to be filled.
Then she leans back, brushing her lips over my jaw. “Go sit down, babe. I’ll make us a drink.”
I nod, giving her one last squeeze before heading to the living room.
A moment later, she comes to the couch with drinks in hand. She slides close as she passes me my glass. We sip in silence at first. No rush, no pressure. Just the warmth of the whisky and her thigh pressed against mine.
“Life’s weird. Dominoes are always falling, and we never see them,” she says after a moment, eyes on the amber swirl in her glass.
She leans her head against my shoulder, and the weight of her there settles something in me. For a while, we don’t speak. We just finish our drinks and sit.
Eventually, the glasses are empty, her body curled into mine, with my arm around her. I study her, the way the light touches her cheekbones, the curve of her mouth, and all I can think is I don’t deserve this beautiful woman.
