fine. The swelling is from the exercises, not the injury.”
His mouth pulled into a tight, grim line. “I’m sorry, Ms. Foster, but your coach will want to know my opinion and I’ll have to tell her my conclusion, based on the evidence.”
I jerked up from my chair and the metal feet scraped against the floor. “Is anything broken?”
He sat back in shock. “Well, no—”
“Then that’s all you need to report. Whether or not I play isn’t your call.”
He furrowed his brows, and I swallowed, hoping I was getting through to him.
“I know my body better than anyone. I know how far I can push myself, so please don’t make this decision for me. Just tell her that the MRI confirmed no broken bones, and that you’ve noticed improvement. That’s all I’m asking.”
I stood and walked out of his office before he could make a decision. I needed him to think on it, to consider what he was doing to my career if he didn’t clear me for the game. I hadn’t asked him to lie; I wanted him to relay the facts. I could fill in the rest myself.
“How’d it go?”
I turned to see Lisa posted against the wall outside the doctor’s office.
“Not great,” I said, shaking my head.
“Did he say whether or not he was going to clear you?”
“I left before he could.”
She smirked. “Right. Well, let’s get to work.”
I followed her over to our training table and hopped up to sit on the edge.
“We won’t train for too long this morning,” she said, reaching out to grab hold of my wrist. “I’m going to wrap your wrist in ice at the end and see if we can’t get some of that inflammation to go down.”
I stared down at my wrist as she worked it in her hands. I took a deep breath, surprised to find tears clouding the corner of my eyes. My chest tightened and I could hardly swallow. Everything was getting to be too much. Deep down, I had convinced myself that the media scandal, the situation with Freddie, the faith of my teammates—they would all resolve themselves if only I could get back on the field. But with one phone call to my coach, the doctor could end that hope.
“Andie?” Lisa ducked to stare up at my downcast eyes. “Andie. What’s wrong?”
I shook my head and tried to escape her questioning. “It’s nothing.”
But it was too late; the floodgates had opened and there was no stopping the tears from slipping down my cheeks. I was tired, so fucking tired of fighting a losing battle. My body ached, my heart ached, my wrist ached, and no one seemed to believe I had any fight left in me. Maybe they were right.
“Andie.” Lisa ran a hand up and down my back, trying to soothe me. “It’s okay. It’s been a tough time.”
Her words only made me cry harder. She reached out to wrap me in her arms. I leaned forward and dropped my head on her shoulders, giving in to the feeling of defeat. It was all too much for one person to handle. Freddie’s announcement the night before had broken whatever resolve I had left. Caroline was pregnant with his baby and there was nothing I could do. I had no problem stepping between Freddie and a woman he didn’t love, but I wouldn’t step between him and his unborn child. Caroline was the vilest woman I’d ever met, but Freddie couldn’t abandon his child. Even if he wanted to be with me, I wasn’t sure I wanted to oppose Caroline for the rest of my life.
I had nothing left but soccer and I was not giving up. The final was in two days. I was going to take the field with my team whether the doctor cleared me or not. I inhaled a deep breath, sat up, and forcefully wiped away my tears.
“Let’s get on with it already,” I said, holding out my wrist for Lisa to take. “I’m playing in that final.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Freddie
I TOOK THE last seat on my team’s bus and put my headphones in before anyone could ask about my foul mood. It’s been two days since I’d seen or spoken to Andie at the SI party and she’d been ignoring my calls and texts. I would have gladly cut my right arm off just to receive something from her—a text, a smoke signal, a carrier pigeon. Georgie insisted that I needed to give her space and focus on my races, and