Teardrop Shot(96)

As he turned to look at me, I saw recognition and a bright smile broke over his face. Inside me, something clicked back into place.

This was family.

Brenda was right. It would get better. It already had.





Five days ago, I’d sat next to my ex, listening to him tell me Reese Forster’s stats, hearing the old ribbing he used to give me about my crush on Reese. I’d sat there with tears welling up, but I never let them fall. Not in front of Damian. The tears weren’t for the teasing—far from it. And they weren’t even from the pain of seeing where Damian was in his disease.

The tears were good tears, finally.

I hadn’t realized how empty I’d been without him.

I’d gone back two more times through the week, meeting AJ for the first time and getting closer to Brenda. And I met Mickey, who was adorable. A German Shepherd, whose first priority was always Damian —always checking on him, watching him. It wasn’t until Damian sat down that Mickey was off-duty. He hadn’t been brought up as a typical service dog. He had training specifically for dementia, and while I hated the terminology—because Damian wasn’t Damian with dementia to me. He was just Damian—I understood the training was needed.

A few times Damian started to get up and do something, and Mickey sensed it, whining, pressing him back down. One point he prepared to leave the apartment, but Mickey blocked him, and AJ called his name. Then Damian remembered we were there. His eyes lit up, a smile spread over his face, and he came back for another round of Reese Forster stats.

Going to see him had been a goodbye in my heart.

Not a goodbye forever, because I could never do that, but a goodbye to him being my romantic partner. Maybe if I were older, if we’d had kids, things would be different. I would’ve stayed at his side, held his hand, kissed his cheek, and known he was my soulmate for life.

But I was too young.

He tried to send me away so many times because of this reason, so I could still have a husband, perhaps children. I got it. I got it then, but I never accepted it. I hadn’t wanted to lose him either.

At one point, one of the other residents had tried to classify my relationship with Damian.

I wouldn’t have it.

I wasn’t his sister. I wasn’t his best friend any longer. I was family. That was it.

And now, I was back to traveling.

A part of me felt whole again. I was getting there, and I had one more piece to fix. Reese.

“Why are you going to Chicago?” my seatmate asked once they announced we were starting our descent. He’d kept to himself the whole time, headphones plugged into his phone, but after going to the bathroom, he didn’t immediately tug the headphones back on.

I’d been slouching down, but I sat up now, stretching my arms and back. “I’m, uh… I’m seeing a friend.”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Good friend?”

He was in a business suit, and I because I didn’t want to talk about the details, I gestured to him. “You’re going for work?”

“What?” He looked down and laughed. “Oh. No. I travel so much, I forgot. Nah. Not this time. A friend of mine has box seats to the Chasers game tomorrow. I’m flying in to see him, catch the game, and then I’m off to Japan after that.”

Really.

I swallowed tightly. “The Chasers?” My stomach twisted up.

“Yep. Yep. They’re playing the Seattle Thunder, who seem to be the fucking team to beat this year. I kinda miss the old days when Johnston played, you know? He would’ve shut Forster down hard.”

I couldn’t help myself. “But Forster, Cartion, and Crusky?”

He sighed, resigning himself. “I know.” He settled into his seat. “Thunder’s stacked this year. They don’t usually have so many heavy hitters. Chasers are hurting. They need to plan better for their team, but we can get there. I know it. Give us another year, and Thunder wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“That’s your opinion.” I waited.

He registered the dig and looked over, his eyes wide. “You must be a Thunder fan?”

“Kinda.”

“Not Coyotes? We flew from Minneapolis.”

“Not this year.”

He groaned. “God, you’re one of those.”

I knew where he was going, but I wanted him to say it. I wanted him to squirm as he said it.

I blinked my eyes, so wide and pure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right.” He snorted, facing forward again as the flight attendant came with the garbage bag. “You’re a fair-weather fan. Those are the worst.” He side-eyed me, smirking. “No offense.”

I snorted right back, clipping my seatbelt in place. The descent would still take a while, but I wasn’t going anywhere. “I’ve always been a Thunder fan, and I’ve always been a Forster fan. Don’t underestimate the Reese, man. He’s going to be the GOAT one day.”

He groaned, and a couple of the other passengers glanced over. He waved at me. “Sorry. She just told me Forster’s going to be the GOAT one day.”

A guy a few rows back yelled, “Reese Forster? You kidding? The guy can’t rebound for the life of him. He’s gotta depend on his teammates.”

Yeah. Oh-kay, my seatbelt was off, and I twisted around. I rested an arm against the back of my seat so I could properly see my target. It was a bigger guy who, no surprise, had a Chasers ball cap on.