Page 144 of More To Us

"Yeah. Why? Did you want something else?"

"No. This is great. It's perfect. Thanks." I lean over to kiss her, but then quickly stop myself. It was such a natural thing to do that I didn't even think about it.

Luckily she didn't notice. She turned back to get the forks just as I was leaning over.

"Here." She hands me a fork and my hand brushes hers as I take it. Her eyes catch mine, but then dart back down to her salad. But mine don't. I keep looking at her.

She has on a long-sleeve white t-shirt and jeans. Her long dark hair is pulled back into a ponytail and she's wearing a navy blue Michigan baseball cap. She looks both sporty and sexy, my favorite combination. She has no makeup covering her beautiful face and her lips are...shit, I want to kiss those damn lips.

I focus back on my food so I don't give in to my intense need to kiss her.

"How's your salad?" she asks, then notices I haven't eaten it. "Do you not like it?"

"I do. I just haven't started eating yet." I dig in, taking a bite of salad greens and chicken. "Thanks for the lunch, but you didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to. And...I thought it was the only way you'd agree to see me." She keeps her head down, tossing her salad around with her fork.

"I never said you couldn't see me."

"I just assumed you didn't want to." She sets her container down and turns to me. "Austin. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for lying to you. Not being honest with you. Not telling you everything I should have. I'm sorry for all of it. I got so caught up in trying to compete again that it was all I could think about. I know you may not understand this, but gymnastics is my life, or was my life. It was everything to me. The one thing I was really good at. As a little girl, I'd watch those girls in the Olympics and I wanted to be just like them. I wanted it more than anything. So I trained for hours a day, every day, for years. I gave up a lot, but I was determined to be the best so it all seemed worth it. But then I fell, and in an instant, it was over. Everything I'd worked for was gone. Like it was all for nothing. And I couldn't accept that. I couldn't accept that it was over. I still haven't, but I'm trying to." She pauses and looks down, then back up at me. "I understand if you've moved on with someone else, but if you haven't, I want to try again. Or we could just be friends. Whatever you want. I just want to see you again."

I set my salad down. "I'm not going out with anyone. And I would like to see you again, but I need to know that you won't keep doing this. The lying. The secrets. It all has to stop. And honestly, I don't know if you're able to do that right now."

She nods, agreeing with me. She's not there yet. She hasn't fully given up this goal of hers that led to the end of us. But I can see that she's getting there. I sense a change in her. A sadness, the type that comes from having to let go, to say goodbye to something you're not quite ready to say goodbye to.

"I'm here for you," I tell her, "to talk, listen, support you, whatever you need. But I can't go back to how we were until I know this is over. I can't watch you do things that'll put you in the hospital again. And I won't put up with you lying to me."

"I won't lie to you, Austin. I don't want to. I never did. I want to be honest with you. I really do."

"Then start right now. After your leg is healed, are you gonna go back to working out like you did before?"

She lowers her head and quietly says, "Austin, I need more time before I—"

"No. You don't need more time. You just said things were going to be different and now you're saying they're not."

"That's not what I'm saying. Things ARE different. I'm being honest with you and telling you that I'm having a really hard time accepting that I can never compete again. And not going to the gym is like...it's like I've given up."

"It's not giving up. You're just saying goodbye to one part of your life and starting another. And nobody's saying you can't ever go to the gym again. But when you go, you can't work out like you're training for the damn Olympics. You pushed yourself way too freaking hard when we were training together. And I'm still so damn mad at you for letting me do that."

"Do what?"

"Push you. Add more weight. More reps. You knew what could happen and you still let me do it. You ended up in the freaking hospital because of me."

"It wasn't because of you. It was because of me. It wasn't your fault. You didn't know."

"It doesn't fucking matter. Don't you get that? I'll still always feel like it was my fault. I was supposed to take care of you. Make sure you're safe. Make sure you don't get hurt."

"Austin, it wasn't your job to do that. You were training me, but you're not really a trainer. You don't even work there."

"It's not about me being your trainer. I still have to do those things. Taking care of you? Making sure you're safe? It's what you do when you love—"

Shit. I didn't mean to say that.

She's looking at me, her eyes wide, her jaw slightly dropped as she waitsfor me to continue.

What the hell? She might as well know.

"Yeah. I love you." I crack a smile because it feels so damn good to finally tell her that. "You happy now? You made me fall in love with you and now we're not even dating."

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