The lights are bright. Damn near blinding, as I fight to swallow the dry lump in my throat. I’m not sure how to combat the pain, and the gagging sensation nestled deep in my windpipe. My chest rises and falls before I’m finally able to open my eyes and focus in on my surroundings.

A large palm caresses my forehead in a soothing and relaxing motion. It feels good when the rest of my body remains numb.

“Shayne, baby.”

My eyes focus in on the face staring down at me. I fight to recall where I am and honestly who in the hell I am. I swear it’s Ryder looming above me.

“Ryder?” The lining of my throat rips as the name slips from my tongue.

“Yeah, baby.”

I feel my other hand being clutched and turn to the sensation. My dad. Holding my hand and gazing down at me with gentle and caring eyes.

“You did it.” He squeezes a little tighter. “You’re okay, baby. You’re all right.”

“Dad, you were there. Always.”

He nods slightly bringing back all the memories. I won. He was by my side. I did it.

I let go of his hand even though he fights back not budging. Once my hand is free, I hold up my arms for a hug from my laying position. In a quick moment, my dad has me wrapped up in his arms. I let everything sink in from the championship to his omissions and my performance.

“He told me to step the fuck up and that he loved you. Give the man a chance,” he whispers into my ear.

I pull back slightly and stare into my dad’s eyes. He only nods back confirming his statement. Jesus, I must be on some exquisite drugs.

“Am I high?” I ask through a scratchy voice.

“No baby, girl.” He brushes back my bangs. “Just listen to him. He’s not going to leave until you do.”

With that, my dad stands straight and walks out of the room leaving Ryder alone with me in the shrinking hospital room.

“Where’s my mom?” I ask again then wince when the pain slices my throat.

“Out in the waiting room,” Ryder replies.

Ryder passes me a mug of water with a flexible straw popping out of the top. He flexes the straw down toward my mouth while holding the mug. The ice-cold water is refreshing not only to my throbbing throat, but also to my cottonmouth.

I nod when I’m done and watch Ryder’s arms flex as he sits it on the table next to the bed. My first thoughts being this close to him is how good-looking the man is. His dark hair, broad chest, and piercing blue eyes remind me of the man I fell hard for. I only linger on his looks and lust for him for a few seconds before remembering how he hurt me.

I startle when his fingers lace through mine. He’s careful not to disturb the IV in inserted in my wrist. His lips drop to my forehead laying a tender kiss on my skin, and that simple action does more for me than any of the drugs.

“What are you doing, Ryder?” I whisper keeping my eyes shut tight.

His large palm covers one side of my face. “Doing what I should have done a long time ago.”

“You told my dad you loved me.” It comes out as a statement and not a question.

“I did. I was an idiot. I never should’ve left you.”

“Your college career is over. Football is done for you, and now you have the courage to come back to me?”

“Yes.” He pulls back to stare down in my eyes and those pools of blue eyes do something to me deep in my soul. “I fucked up, Shayne.”

“You crushed me, Ryder.” I turn my head no longer able to stare into his eyes. “I just kept thinking you’d take the next step from stolen kisses, but you didn’t because of football.”

He steps back leaving me cold without his touch, and I still don’t turn to look at him. “I fucked up. I was selfish and a fucking coward. It’s over. I told your dad I love you and I’m not backing down.”

“It’s too late,” I whisper.

“For who?” His arms flare up over his head.

His face coated in frustration.

“For us. For me.” I peer down at my wrapped knee in a thick, soft cast. “No Olympics.”

“You’re wrong. Dead wrong, Shayne and I’m going to prove that to you.”

My mom chooses this time to burst in the room. She dives straight into her overbearing mother hen self. She rattles on as Ryder slinks out of the room. Boy, if that’s what he gives his all in a relationship, it sure wasn’t anything worth mentioning.

“Oh honey, are you even listening to me?”

My vision had been glued to the closed door Ryder just escaped out of.

“Uh?”

“Your dad found the best sport’s surgeon in Rock Springs, Nebraska. He’s spending some time at a children’s hospital there, but there’s nobody better. We’re flying out in the morning.”

I don’t even have the desire to ask what type of surgery, recovery time, or anything knee related. I’ve abused and beat down my body to a point there’s no hope. Hours and hours in the gym all wasted. No social life was also a reminder of how my dreams and aspiration were worthless in the end.

“You’ll enter their recovery program there. They have an intense physical therapy department. Lots of athletes have got right back into perfect shape.” She brushes my bangs back with a worried look on her face. “Shayne, say something.”

“They can just fix it here.”

“No.” My mother nears my face. “You are going to fight to get healthy again. You’ve dedicated your life to this.”

“Mom. Enough.”

“Honey, let her be.” My dad’s voice joins our group.

He rounds the bottom of the bed making his way to my other side.

“No, you don’t get to do this.” She points at my dad with tears welling up in her eyes.

“Take a deep breath, baby.” The sight of him reaching across my body to grab her free hand shocks the shit out of me. “Let Shayne process everything.”

“You were never there during those long hours at the gym.”

“I know. I’m not arguing or taking control of this situation. She just needs time to adjust.”

This conversation could go on forever because when my mother gets fired up, she never backs down. “I’ll go. But please don’t push me for the Olympics. I’ve missed my window.”

This shuts both of them up. My mom finally cries, and my father continues to hold her hand.

“You will get to the Olympics, baby.”

“Mom!” My voice is far too harsh. “The team trials are two months away. It’s over.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but is cut off by my father. “We will take it one day at a time.”