I shook my head. “My mom got me an appointment with this exclusive doctor in L.A. He’s supposed to be a world-renowned orthopedic surgeon who specializes in wrists. He’s already taken a look at my MRI—”
“So you’re leaving in the middle of the night to see him? This doctor?” His brows were furrowed in confusion. “That makes no sense.”
“He’s booked solid for the next six months, but he has one opening tomorrow afternoon and I’m taking it.”
“You’re leaving Rio in six hours?” He glanced out at the darkening horizon and then back at me. Whatever happiness he’d had a moment earlier was gone now.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I have to go. I’ve put off treatment because I wanted to play in the final, but now that I’m finished, I have to make my wrist my priority. I don’t want to be known as the promising goalkeeper that had her career cut short by chronic injury.”
I’d worked too hard to walk away from the sport now.
“Stay,” he pleaded, walking us back a few feet so he could touch the ocean floor. I stayed wrapped around him, letting him carry my weight beneath the waves.
“I can’t.”
His brown eyes implored me to stay, but I couldn’t. I should have seen the doctor a week ago. I could have already damaged my wrist past the point of full repair.
“I have to make that appointment.”
For a few minutes we stayed quiet. The briny sea lapped against us, pushing us up to shore and then dragging us back out toward the horizon. The waves were loud, filling the silence between us until I spoke up and suggested something I hoped he’d agree to.
“You could come to L.A.”
I cringed at the desperation in my tone. Freddie turned his head to look at me and I shrugged.
“After the ceremonies wrap up, I mean.” I continued filling the silence, though my brain was yelling at me to shut up. “You could see where I live and spend some time in America.”
His dark eyes told me no even before he did. “I would love that, but…I’ve got to get home and figure out this Caroline thing. If she’s really pregnant with my child…”
Caroline.
Caroline.
Caroline…
We’d gone so long without mentioning the glaring obstacle sitting between us, the dragon that had yet to be slayed.
“Right,” I said, turning my head so he couldn’t see the hurt in my eyes.
“Andie. I only slept with her once and I was drunk. It meant nothing.”
“But now it might mean everything.”
Silence.
I stared out at the waves and worked up the courage to ask my next question. “Will you marry her? I mean will you marry her if she is pregnant?”
“No. Never.” He seemed shocked by the notion, which made me feel a little better. “But I’ve got to get the paternity test sorted, see my lawyer, and have a chat with my mum. She hasn’t spoken to me since I decided to cut off the betrothal.”
I nodded. “Right. So you’re going back to London.”
“And you’re headed back to L.A.”
The words sounded final, even if we didn’t want them to be.
“Why does this feel like the end?” I asked, leaning forward to drop my head on his shoulder.
“It’s not,” he promised.
A wave crashed against us and Freddie tightened his grip on me. I felt so small there, fighting against the waves and the end of us and the tears that were falling for no reason.
“Do you think this thing between us is real? Or is it just part of the magic of Rio?”
“I know it’s real.”
I tipped my head up and nuzzled my nose against his neck, inhaling the scent of salt water on his skin. He smelled so divine. I stayed there, with my lips against his throat.
“Don’t forget about me once you go back to London.”
He bent and dropped a kiss to my shoulder. “How could I?”
“Even if you escape from Caroline, there’ll be lots of fanciable girls pining after you once you go back home with six more gold medals around your neck.”
His hand cupped my neck, dragging it up and down and warming my skin. I hadn’t realized I’d started to shake against him.
“I only have four so far,” he said, mocking himself.
“Girls or medals?” I joked.
He smiled. “Will you call me after your appointment and let me know how it goes?”
“You’ll probably be racing.”
“How about later…”
I shook my head and skimmed my lips up to his mouth. “I don’t want to talk about later. Let’s just stay here in this ocean forever.”
He laughed. “We’d turn into prunes.”
I slipped my hand along the hard ridges of his stomach. “You don’t feel pruney to me.”
His sharp inhale told me how much he loved my touch. His head turned and he captured my mouth in a kiss so powerful, I lost track of my breaking heart. With his lips on mine, it felt like there was only us, the two of us standing in an ocean with our bodies wrapped up and our hearts on our sleeves. I loved him in a hopeless sort of way, the type of love you feel for what could have been. I wasn’t giving up on him, or us. I was giving up on the promise of more. In six hours, we’d be worlds apart.
“I don’t even know your middle name.”
“William.”
“Or your favorite food.”
“Spaghetti.”
“Or your favorite song.”