Page 49 of Hat Trick

“The feeling is really fucking mutual. Come sit,” I say, pointing to the open chairs at the table. “You look great.”

“So do you. I waited at the hospital that night to make sure you were okay.” He sits next to me, and I scoot closer to him. “Your whole team was there. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

“Will you tell me what you remember?”

“We were driving, and you gave me money. The light turned green, and I started accelerating. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw bright headlights, and then we were airborne. We landed upside down, and I started yelling for you. You didn’t answer and—” Lamar closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “You looked dead. I got out of the car and tried to pull you out. A couple cars stopped and helped me, then I called 911 while someone did CPR.”

“How did the team know to go to the hospital?” I ask. “I was the only one in the car with you.”

“I found your phone. The screen was cracked, but I hit the first name at the top of your call log. Maverick was the one who answered, and I guess he told everyone else.” Lamar sighs. “I would say it was the scariest night of my life, but that’s selfish. It pales in comparison to what you experienced.”

“I remember us flipping. I remember pain, but that’s it. There’s nothing there until I woke up after my surgery.”

“Your surgery,” he repeats, and he glances at my legs for the first time. “The doctor mentioned an amputation.”

“My right leg above the knee.” I drum my fingers against my prosthetic. “I guess there wasn’t much of a choice.”

“Are you healing okay?”

“As well as I can.” I wince when I remember the way I stormed out of the training room two weeks ago. I’ve been back since, knocking out the exercises Lexi gives me the best I can, but our small talk has been almost nonexistent. I’m pissed at myself for taking my frustration out on her, and I know she’s pissed at me too. “I’m a work in progress.”

“I really thought that was it for you, man.” Lamar’s voice cracks, and Marcus slides a water bottle across the table to him. “And it was all my fault.”

“No. Don’t fucking do that. The only person at fault was the piece of shit who hit us. You saved me. I don’t think I’d be here without your help. Areyouhealing up okay?”

“I’ve been going to therapy. Talking to a professional helps,” Lamar says.

“I don’t want you to carry any of the weight from that night. I don’t blame you. I’veneverblamed you. I don’t know if that helps with closure or anything, but I need you to hear it.”

“That means a lot, Riley.”

“Did your wife have the baby?” I ask. “You said she was expecting and?—”

“A girl.” Lamar beams, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen someone so happy. He pulls out his phone and opens his photo roll. “We named her Destiny.”

“Shit.” I have to wipe under my eyes again when I see him holding a newborn close to his chest. “She’s beautiful.”

“Looks just like her mama.”

“I’d love to meet them one day,” I say. “Your family.”

“They’d love that. Aliyah kept telling me to reach out to you on social media but I saw you hadn’t posted anything since—” He pauses. “It didn’t feel right to pester you when you didn’t want to be bothered.”

“It wouldn’t be pestering. Never. I’m so fucking glad Marcus arranged this.” I look at my agent, hoping he can feel the gratefulness I’m trying to convey. “We’ll have to do it again soon.”

Lamar shows me some more photos of his family, and I tell him about my teammates. He asks about my parents, and when I mention my dad and I have matching prosthetics, he laughs.

“Sorry. That’s not funny,” he says.

“What are the odds?” I grin. “I’d love to stay and chat more, but I need to get to the arena. Can I give you my number so we can plan to get together soon?”

“I’d love that,” Lamar says, and I plug my contact information into his phone. “Take care of yourself, Riley. There’s a reason you pulled through that night. Your purpose is so much bigger than you think it is.”

“It’s hard to remember that sometimes, but I’m trying.” I stand, and we exchange another hug. “Don’t be a stranger, man.”

After he leaves, Marcus puts a hand on my shoulder. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah.” I nod, feeling like I’m on the verge of bursting into tears again. Three times in an hour would be a new fucking record. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you did that.”

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