TORI'S POV
This was my first practice match since my injury, and I was determined to prove I was ready to play again. When the final whistle blew, I collapsed onto the bench, sweat dripping down my face.
"Nice work today," Maya said, handing me a water bottle. "You sure that knee is healed?"
"Good enough," I replied, gulping down half the bottle.
The truth was, my knee was the least of my problems. For the past two days, I hadn't been able to get Ethan out of my head.
The way he'd stormed out of my apartment after learning what his father had done.
I pulled out my phone, checking it for what felt like the hundredth time today.
What was I even doing? Ethan and I didn't have each other's numbers. And even if we did, we couldn't talk. Not with his father's threat hanging over me.
"You've been weird since your injury," Maya observed, studying my face. "Did something happen?"
"Nothing happened," I insisted, standing up. "I'm going to change."
In the locker room, I opened my drawer and started gathering my things. I needed to stop thinking about Ethan Harrington.
Stop wondering if he was okay. Stop wishing things could be different.
"Did you hear about Harrington?" a voice said from the row of lockers behind me
I froze, my t-shirt halfway over my head. Two guys from the tennis team were changing on the other side.
"What about him?" the second guy asked.
"Ethan is off the championship, I heard."
"Wow," his friend exclaimed. "That gives you room to take the glory, right?"
"Yeah. He deserves it. That arrogant jerk keeps taking our place all the time. What happened?"
"Father issues, I heard."
The guy snickered, and I backed away, not wanting to hear more. My hands shook as I grabbed my bag and slammed the locker shut.
Ethan was off the championship. After all his hard work, after everything he'd sacrificed. The championship meant everything to him. And his father had taken it away.
Because of me.
I rushed out of the locker room, barely acknowledging Coach's goodbye. Outside, I flagged down the first cab I saw.
"Where to?" the driver asked.
For a second, I hesitated. This was crazy. I should go home, forget about Ethan, and focus on keeping my scholarship. But then I thought about his face when he'd learned what his father had done. How broken he'd looked.
"Justin Apartments on Elm," I said, giving the driver Ethan's address.
As the cab navigated through traffic, my mind raced.
Had Ethan confronted his father because of me? Was that why he'd been kicked off the championship team?
I knew how much that opportunity meant to him—to any athlete chosen to compete. He must be devastated.
"You okay back there?" the driver asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "You're breathing pretty hard."
"I'm fine," I said, trying to calm myself. "Just in a hurry."
When we arrived at Ethan's building, I threw some cash at the driver and jumped out. My heart pounded as I approached his door.
What was I even doing here? What would I say to him?
Too late to turn back now. I pressed the doorbell and waited, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
No answer.
I pressed it again, then knocked for good measure.
Still nothing.
"He's not home," I muttered to myself, disappointment and relief washing through me in equal measure.
I turned to leave when a voice behind me stopped me cold. "Victoria."
I spun around, and my breath caught in my throat. Ethan stood at the end of the hallway, looking nothing like the confident tennis star I knew.
His hair was disheveled, eyes red-rimmed, clothes wrinkled like he'd slept in them.
"Ethan," I whispered. "I heard about the championship. I'm so sorry. I came to—"
Before I could finish, he dropped to his knees right there in the hallway, his shoulders shaking as tears streamed down his face.