Page 108 of My Pucked Up Enemy

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By the time I get to the team offices, my hair is brushed, my outfit is sharp, but my heart is still a mess.

Derek is reviewing game film on his screen when I knock on the open door.

He glances up. “Morning, Doc. That look says I should offer coffee.”

I smile weakly and hand over my folder of updated prep notes. “No caffeine can fix what I’ve got this morning.”

He nods toward the chair across from his desk. “Then sit and tell me what’s weighing on you.”

I hesitate, then drop into the seat. “I got a job offer. From the league office.”

His brow lifts, but his expression stays even. “The real deal?”

“Senior Director. National reach. Full team under me. All the bells and whistles.”

Derek leans back in his chair, tapping a pen against his knee. “Impressive.”

“But?” he adds, because of course he sees it.

“But I don’t know if I want it anymore.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”

I take a deep breath. “Because I finally feel like I belong somewhere. Like I’m making a difference that matters. Not just consulting from a distance, but building something with real people, day by day.”

He watches me for a moment, then says quietly, “You know… I wasn’t sure you’d last.”

I blink. “Wow. Thanks.”

He chuckles. “I mean that in the least insulting way. I’ve worked with a lot of league psychs. Some are great. Most are polished. Diplomatic. Strategic. You walked in here with no filter, a mountain of notecards, and told my team they were mentally lazy.”

I grin. “I did do that.”

“And it worked. You didn’t try to be something you’re not. You didn’t hover in the shadows and email out your notes. You got in the grit with us. And now my guys talk about visualization like it’s gospel.”

Something tight in my chest loosens.

“You’re not a league puppet,” he adds. “You never were.”

I blink hard, swallowing emotion. “Thanks, Coach.”

He shrugs. “I’m not saying don’t take the job. It’s a damn good one. But sometimes the ladder you’re climbing doesn’t go where you think it does. Sometimes it just leads you away from where you were meant to be.”

I nod slowly. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

He stands, grabbing the folder. “Whatever you decide, you’ve earned my respect. And this team’s. That’s not going anywhere.”

I stand too, grateful beyond words.

As I turn to leave, he adds, “And Nina?”

I glance back.

“If you choose to stay, don’t do it just for the team. Or the guy. Do it for you.”

I pause at the door, turning back slightly. "You know about that?"

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