The room felt like a vacuum after she said it. Not a breath, not a cough, not a damn rustle.
My mind was still trying to wrap around the words that had just shattered everything: “I lied… because I was scared.”
She told the truth.
I turned slowly, eyes locking with Riley’s. She was already looking at me, already holding me steady with that gaze of hers—the one that always cut through the noise.
“Riles…” My voice cracked. Hell, I hadn’t even realized it would. “Is it… true? What she said?”
She nodded. And I swear it was like gravity shifted.
“It’s true, Lucas,” she said. “We finally know who the real villain is.”
My eyes darted to the door like Javier might bust in with one last dirty trick. But it stayed closed. Just like the lies. Just like the fear.
Then the silver-haired board member stood, her voice sharp and sure. “Based on this revelation, the board has reached a unanimous decision. Javier Santos will be removed from the team immediately and banned from all Premier League activities effective at once.”
I didn’t hear the rest. I was already on my feet.
Two strides and I was across the room, wrapping Riley in my arms before I even thought about it.
“Thank you, Riley. Thank you for standing by me, for fighting with me when everyone else turned away.”
She held me back.
“We’re not done yet,” she whispered. “But this is a start. We’ll get through this. Together.”
I pulled back, looking down at her. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I smiled. Not the kind I faked for press or cameras. The kind that actually reached my damn heart.
“I couldn’t have done this without you.”
She didn’t say anything back, just gave me that look—like she’d been in the fire too and somehow still stood taller than me.
***
Later that day, we were in the therapy room again.
Same walls. Same mat. Same exercises. But everything felt… lighter.
I moved better. Quicker. Like the weight on my back had finally cracked and fallen off.
“Hold that balance,” Riley coached, crouched next to me. Her hand steadied my ankle, warm through the fabric. “You’re doing amazing.”
I grinned through the sweat running into my eyes. “I’m just trying to keep up with you.”
She laughed—a real one. Not a polite chuckle. A laugh that made me feel seventeen again. “You’re catching up fast.”
We pushed through the session. Reps. Holds. Stretches. Every movement felt like a damn step toward redemption—not just for my body, but for everything I’d lost and thought I couldn’t earn back.
And somehow, this—this quiet rhythm between us—was even better than the win.
***
When we finished, Riley went back to her desk. I stayed on the mat, just watching her type. Fingers flying like she was chasing the words down.
She looked focused. Determined. And beautiful in a way I didn’t think she even realized.
Eventually, she leaned back and stared at her screen, then hit send with a breath like she’d just climbed a mountain.
Then her phone buzzed.
I didn’t mean to eavesdrop—okay, I did a little—but the way she froze made my pulse spike.
Her eyes scanned the screen, then she fumbled for her laptop like it was suddenly life or death.
She clicked. Read.
Then sat there, stunned.
“Zara,” she whispered into the phone a moment later. “My research—it’s—accepted. Published.”
I sat up straighter. My stomach flipped. Her research?
There was a pause on the other end, then Zara’s voice exploded through the speaker. “Riles! That’s incredible! You did it!”
Riley laughed, eyes wet. “We did it. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Zara’s reply came soft and proud. “You were always the brain. I was just the crazy sidekick.”
Riley smiled, wiping her cheek. “I’m glad you were crazy.”
I didn’t say anything.
Not yet.
But in that moment, watching her light up from across the room, I knew something for certain.
She didn’t just save my career.
She reminded me what worth feels like.
And damn if I wasn’t already in love with her all over again.