Page 33 of Shoot Your Shot

“Definitely.” She bobs her head up and down. “I’ll have to come out to Boothbay sometime, and you can show me around more. I’ve only been a few times.”

“I’d love that,” I say faintly.

But when I dare to look at Kolt again, he’s not paying a bit of attention to me. Instead, he’s listening to Amelia chat about something, but he looks lost in thought.

Our company doesn’t stay much longer, and once they leave, I rush to the guest bedroom before I say anything else to upset my husband. Because as my dad said, his recovery has no room for our bullshit.

I have so much I want to say—even yell. But I can’t do that right now. And plastering on a fake smile is getting harder every day. I’m beginning to question if his mom is dragging her feet on coming out here as a way to force me and Kolt to face our issues.

Despite what people say, love isn’t all it takes to make a marriage work. If it were … I wouldn’t be sleeping in the guest bedroom in my own house.

Throwing my head back, I sigh before sliding my finger across the screen and forcing myself to answer my mother’s call. I shouldn’t avoid talking to the woman who gave me life, but for some reason, I can’t seem to snap out of whatever hold the past has on me.

“Hey, Mom,” I say, taking a seat on the edge of my bed.

“How are you, sweetheart?” she asks.

“I’m good. Just doing what I need to do so I can go back to work,” I tell her.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t made it there yet. I had that damn flu, and then my flight got canceled. It’s been a whole shitstorm.”

“No worries. Paige has been here. All is fine.”

Because having you here would likely stress me out.

“I’m so glad she was able to stay with you,” she says sweetly. “I’m sure that’s been nice. Having her there to help, especially with the PT exercises and such.”

I think about all the exercises Paige has been making me do and how I don’t understand how most of them are going to help me. From the outside, looking in, it doesn’t seem like I have an injury at all. But at the end of the day, I had a motherfucking heart attack.

So far, all the exercises I’ve done didn’t include her touching me. If they had, I’d have likely been doing them with a bulge in my sweatpants.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s been good.” I nod in my empty room. “And you know, there’s no sense in you flying out here until I know what’s going on. I’ll know more after my appointment today.”

“I feel like the worst mom, not being there.” She sighs. “But I know you’re in good hands. Just promise you’ll keep me updated on your recovery.”

“I promise,” I say before standing up. “I should get going though.”

“I love you. Good luck at the appointment.” She pauses. “And please tell Paige I said hello.”

“Will do. Love you too. Bye.”

Once I end the call, I pull my hoodie on and head out of the bedroom.

Today is my first checkup since I came home. I don’t have my echocardiogram till next week, but I’m hoping, today, I’ll find out my body is moving in the right direction and that I’ll be back in the arena soon.

Before I completely lose my mind.

I walk out of the guest bedroom—the one that was empty until a week ago—and I instantly smell coffee. When I head down the hallway and around the corner, I take in the sight of Paige sitting at the dining room table, drinking her coffee with her laptop open in front of her. Her reading glasses are on, and I swear to fucking God, it’s like I’ve been sent back in time to a few years ago. Before everything went to shit.

For a moment, I watch her in awe. Her eyes narrow, and her brows furrow while she reads whatever she’s looking at. Suddenly, she types something quickly and sighs before taking a sip from her coffee.

When she gently closes her laptop, I head toward her. She hears my footsteps instantly and glances at me.

“Morning,” she says softly, pulling her glasses off.

She’s always hated those things, even though I love them. They make her look adorable and innocent, which I know she’s not.

“Good morning,” I answer, pulling out the chair beside hers and taking a seat. “How’d you sleep?”

---