Page 89 of Fighting Fate

"But that's not all," he continues after a pause. "It's my future. That's what's really eating at me."

The weight of his worries is palpable. I stay silent, giving his hand another reassuring squeeze. I'm here, no matter what.

"You know, what do I want in a future? What does the damn future even look like? What if what I want in my future doesn't align with what others want? What if I can't have a fut?—"

I press my fingers to his lips, locking eyes with him. "Hey, the future? We don't just walk into it. We shape it, Miles."

His expression shifts to one of surprise at my declaration. Yet, it stands as an undeniable truth. We are the sculptors of our destinies, not mere pieces on another's chessboard. It's up to us to define our desires, not be dictated by others.

His eyes soften, a vulnerability emerging before he whispers, "I...I want to be a doctor."

That catches me off guard, but in a good way. Doctor Miles Chasen? That's a thought.

He drags his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends as if clinging to them for support, and exhales sharply. "Fuck, admitting that shouldn't be so difficult."

"Being a doctor is your dream?" I ask him.

He nods, his gaze darting around, avoiding mine.

"Why's that so hard to say?" I probe gently.

His head snaps to me. "Mills, you know how it is. My dad's been grooming me for the NFL since forever. It's like I'm set to disappoint everyone." He sighs heavily. "I can't bear to think of letting them down."

I just listen, holding his hand, letting him pour out his heart.

"How do I tell them I don't want the NFL life? I can already see my dad's dream for me shattering."

His dad's dream, not his. But I keep quiet.

He starts again, "It's not like it matters. I don't even have a—" He stops himself, swallowing the rest of his sentence.

My heart sinks. What's he holding back? He pulls away, glancing at me. "We should go. It's late."

I'm torn. Do I hug him? Offer some words of comfort? As his hand slips from mine, the silence grows heavy, filled with all the things left unsaid.

I hesitate, wanting to reassure him, but he cuts in, frustration in his voice. "I don't even know if I can be a doctor. I've missed so much, wrapped up in football, our study sessions...I haven't even started on the MCAT." I hear the regret in his words, the yearning for a different path. "I thought this was my year. To end football on a high, enjoy my last college days..."

I give his leg a supportive squeeze, my heart aching slightly that I'm not part of his "perfect year." Pushing aside my feelings, I lean back, thinking carefully about my response.

"You know, life's full of surprises," I say, trying to ease the tension. "Sometimes the best years are the unexpected ones, where we roll with the punches."

Miles offers a small, grateful smile, the stress in his shoulders easing.

I sense he needs some space, that easy smile of his fading. As much as I want to be his go-to person, he'll come to me when he's ready, just like he did today. Eager to leave things on a lighter note, I reach for the passenger door, throwing in a bit of humor. "You sure you're cut out for med school?"

He raises an eyebrow at my comment. So, with a smirk, I tease, "I mean, can the hospital handle your charm? Might be a health hazard for the patients, right?"

His laughter rings out, a sound that lifts me up, making me feel like I'm soaring. "I'm charming, huh?" He shakes his head, still smiling. "Only you, Milli Sutton, could turn a serious moment into something light-hearted."

I step out of his truck; the breeze catching my hair as I lean back in through the open window, grinning. "Well, someone's got to keep you grounded, Mr. Future Doctor." With a wink, I add, "See you around, Sunshine."

"Alright, everyone," Professor Huggins starts, his voice ringing through the classroom. "I hope you're all set for the stats assignment. And remember, finals aren't far off. Think back on all the work we've done this term."

Around me, there's a chorus of groans and a few sarcastic, "Oh yeah, like we could forget."

My phone vibrates. Milli's name flashes on the screen, sparking an instant smile, even though she's just a couple of rows ahead.

Mills

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