Page 102 of The Wrong Move

With a boot on my foot, I hobble on crutches to the kitchen. My chef has left meals for the next two days. I prefer to cook, though I still need to elevate my leg as much as possible. Charlotte has arranged everything. My meals, cleaning, physiotherapists coming to my home, and the team psychologist. We have an appointment this afternoon. I open my cell and find Brandon’s number.

Can we talk?

I need to apologize, and I’m not doing it in a text.

I won’t be a jerk.

I toss my cell on the counter, and before I open the refrigerator, my cell alerts me to someone at the door. I check the camera.

Charlotte.

I hear her rushing up the stairs. She runs into the kitchen, and I’m about to tell her I’m fine, but her distressed expression can’t be about me. I saw her yesterday.

Charlotte almost knocks me off balance as she runs into my arms and hugs me, sobbing into my shirt. “He’s left.”

“What?” I take her shoulder and try to pry her off me, but she tightens her arms around my waist and cries louder.

“He’s been traded to Chicago,” she says through sobs.

“The fuck?” I’m stunned into silence, my thoughts mashing together in confusion. I pat her back, then hug my sister.

“Is it a done deal? I can talk to him.”

She shakes her head. “He’s already gone.” She leans back and looks me in the eye. Her eyes are red and swollen, like she has been crying for hours. “He didn’t even say goodbye. Ihatehim.”

I swallow hard. Tears burn my eyes, and I can’t fight it. I pull her into my chest for a tight squeeze because I also need to be comforted. I just lost my best friend.

“Who signed the contract?”

“Coach… and Frank.”

The fuck?

“Frank said it was in the best interest of both parties. BJ is not a point guard, and Chicago has been interested in him for some time. We signed another guard from Philadelphia,” she rasps. “In their meeting, BJ told Frank he thought it was best for everyone if he left.” Charlotte’s hands scrunch my shirt into a ball as her cries become louder. Her knees buckle, and she leans into me. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Nothing, Lott. You do nothing. Remember the hurt. Wear the scar like a trophy tattooed on your heart. You’ll survive and be stronger for it. In time, he’ll understand his mistake. But don’t give him the power of seeing you like this.” I pat her back. “We’ll all make amends when the time is right. You can’t force it to happen.”

I think about Giana. I need to take a page out of my own book.

Every Christmas Eve,we meet at our parents’ home and one by one add an ornament to the Christmas tree. Dad opens his favorite bottle of whiskey, and Mum pops champagne and distributes ghastly knitted sweaters that we pretend to like.

This year is different.

She unwraps the sweaters, and after giving everybody their green and red sweater with a reindeer on the front, she shoves the one meant for Brandon back into the packaging. With afleeting look, she checks to see if Charlotte has noticed—she did. We all saw it. The silence in the room speaks volumes. Everyone is hurt by Brandon’s hasty transfer to Chicago. While my father and Franklin signed the contract, Brandon initiated it and without a word to Charlotte.

The fucker.

He has hurt my family.

Crushed Charlotte.

Disappointed me.

Still, I miss him. But I need to show courage and put it all behind me for my sister’s sake.

“Quickly, put them on. I have new decorations for the tree and a special one for Summer’s first Christmas.” Mom beams her radiant smile, and while she loves this time of year, I can tell she feels the weight of sadness that surrounds Charlotte.

And me.

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