10 - Never Really Over

10

Never Really Over

Isaiah

I 've known Aurora's dad for a long time.

Coach Matthews is how most people know him, especially his daughter. I grew up with him, so I know what he is like off the field. I know him as Aurora—and Sophia's—dad, as the overprotective father when Kian came around, as the ex-husband of their mom, and all the other facets of who he is.

There's a difference in the way he interacts with Aurora and Sophia. I think a lot of it is that Sophia never played competitively. It was never her entire life. It has always been Aurora's.

Aurora loves her dad deeply, but I think a part of her also resents him.

My forearms rest on the cold, silver bar of the stands, my eyes latched onto her during warmups. Her dad watches her from the sidelines, arms crossed and an unreadable expression hidden behind sunglasses. I watch her face go from a bright, wide smile, to a straight line when her father calls her over.

I get that he's doing his job as a coach. He's done the same throughout the warm-ups with the other players, as all the coaches have. But no matter what anyone says, I don't think you can be both a father and an unbiased coach. It's not possible. By the frustration on her face, it seems not much has changed.

I respect her father, but I don't necessarily like him.

Whether I have that right anymore or not, it doesn't matter.

"Hey, man." A familiar voice distracts me, and I find Kian behind me.

"What's up?"

He leans over the railing. "You look deep in thought over here." I shake my head, finding Aurora as she resumes warm-ups. "Does she know?"

"Know that you've kept in contact with me almost the whole time?" I stare at him, and he turns sheepish. The guilt settles further into my stomach. "No. I'm certain she would've killed you if she knew."

"Why just me?" Kian asks and then shakes his head. "Never mind. Are you going to tell her?"

"Are you going to go into witness protection?"

"I'll be fine. Sophia will protect me. And if she doesn't, that's a problem for me. That's what witness protection is for," he says, and I snort. "The problem here is you."

I sigh. "I assume you know she came to the school to talk?"

"‘Course. Sophia told me."

"We just talked. We've barely opened the door to… I don't even know if she's going to forgive me, Kian. Isn't telling her going to slam it shut before she even lets me in?"

Kian looks out to the field, finding his little sister. Technically in-laws but realistically not. He's her family. Her big brother. "If you don't tell her and she finds out, isn't that going to be worse?"

"Yes."

The sun is hidden behind the clouds above us, a few rays peeking through. Obviously, I have to tell her. But I can so easily picture the disappointment in her eyes, and the thought of disappointing her again, of hurting her anymore, wrecks me.

He looks at me. "Then, you know you have to do it."

A shrill, young voice breaks the silence. Kian's youngest daughter, Joey, barrels down the stadium stairs and into his legs. He picks her up, and she smiles at me. I've only met her over FaceTime whenever I was able, but it's nice to finally see her in person. Her curls bounce around her brown cheeks, pieces of Sophia (and therefore Aurora) in her features and of course, from Kian.

"Sup, munchkin?" I hold out my hand, and she gives me a high five, her small hand fitting in my larger palm.

"Are you here for Auntie Ro?" she mumbles, the words tumbling out at lightning speed.

"I am." I smile, glancing down at her toddler-sized jersey that has Aurora's number on it. Just like mine.

Joey's hands shoot up in excitement, her cheeks widening. "Good. She's the best."

"You're right about that, Jo." She beams at my nickname and stretches her arms out. Kian wastes no time handing her over, and she settles into my arms easily. Her eyes are glued to her aunt on the field, but after a minute, she turns and looks at me.

"Are you Auntie Ro's boyfriend?"

Kian chokes on the water he just sipped. "Where did you learn that word?"

She shrugs. "Mommy said it."

My heart beats inside my chest, faster than it should since the question was asked by a three-year-old. Even Kian is looking expectantly, albeit amusedly, as he waits for my answer.

"No, I'm just…N o."

Joey hums like she doesn't believe me, but she ends her investigation there. Kian chuckles to himself. Slowly, the stadium fills up. Time ticks by until warm-ups have finished. The girls prepare to head into the locker room, and my eyes, like earlier, are glued on Aurora.

I've missed enough. I don't plan on missing another second.

Before she disappears with her team, she spares the briefest of looks in our direction. Even in the distance, I know she's looking at me.

They linger for longer than I expect, and what I don't anticipate is how much that stings.

How many times did she look only to find that I wasn't there?

I swallow it down—the guilt, the frustration; it won't do me any good. I can't turn back the clock and undo my leaving. Can't undo the pain I caused.

But I can move forward and show up for her now. After I learned how to show up for myself when the chips were down. It's time to step up for the person who got caught up in the aftermath.

And prove that I have no plans to leave.

Watching Aurora today is even better than it was when we were young.

The clock ticks down, the Royals up by two, and she never stops. She commands her defense and supports the midfield and the offense flawlessly. Aurora is a force to be reckoned with. A summer thunderstorm that comes in with a vengeance and gets it done quickly yet beautifully. Out there on that field, she looks as free as ever.

Beside me, her nieces cheer her on, jumping up and down on the stadium benches. Sophia sits next to me with a proud smile on her face. The only person missing is Aurora's mom, who couldn't make it. But it's nice to be sitting here with the rest of her family—I had missed them, too.

"You know, there's rumors she's going to get pulled for the national team training camp," Sophia says, glancing in my direction.

"You're serious?"

"Very." There's a pause. "I don't mean to go all big sister mode, Isaiah. You know I love you. I missed you too, wherever you were. But if this is some weird pitstop or something else, please leave my sister out of it."

I take a sip of my water. "I understand, Sophia."

She rambles on, "It wouldn't just distract her, you know? It would… all that hurt that she buries and tries to hide, it would come right back to the surface. I can't see my sister like that again, okay?"

The words sit there between us, floating in the air. Despite it, Sophia reaches over with her free hand and grabs mine, giving it a squeeze.

"Aurora isn't a pit stop. Not in the slightest." That's all I can say.

Words are pointless if I don't follow through. Promises are empty if there isn't any ground for them to stand on. I squeeze her hand back just as the whistle blows, signaling the end of the game.

We stand, but Sophia turns to me, pausing us for one more moment. "I'm glad you're back, Isaiah."

I nod, and she squeezes my hand again before letting go and picking Joey up. Azalea holds her dad's hand as we make our way down the stands and toward the lot where the players exit. In front of us is the guy Aurora is supposedly seeing, walking in the same direction. I take a deep breath despite the annoyance with a man I've never spoken to flowing through my veins.

The team exits, making their way toward their families, and Aurora appears next to the same three girls she walked out with last time. Their eyes land in our direction, specifically on me, and from here, I can see them turn cautious. Though I can't blame them, it still hurts.

Exhaling, I focus on the cement until the invisible pressure on my shoulders lifts.

"Isaiah?" Azalea's voice breaks my concentration.

"What's up, kiddo?"

Her brows furrow. "I'm not a kid; I'm ten." Behind her, Kian snorts.

"Duly noted. Kiddo's just a nickname. I promise."

She nods, her hazel eyes big and wide, just like Aurora's used to be. I remember when she was born. Aurora and I were thirteen, Sophia and Kian were freshly eighteen, but even though they were scared and everything was changing, Azalea was a breath of fresh air. She and Aurora were two peas in a pod, best friends from the first moment Aurora held her.

Because of my choice, I've had to watch her grow up over sporadic FaceTimes and pictures sent in the mail. She was the closest thing I had to a niece or younger family member—another part of their lives the Matthews let me into.

"Are you gonna come with us for ice cream?"

I smile. "Not tonight. But maybe next time?"

The ten-year-old practically stomps her foot. "Why not? I'm sure if you asked Auntie Ro, you could come." Azalea grips my hand in both of hers, pouting. "Please, pretty please?"

There's a burning pressure on my back. When I glance in that direction, I find Aurora talking to him with her eyes locked on me. Her cheeks flush, and she averts her eyes.

"Don't you wanna spend time with your family? And your aunt?"

"I see them all the time. I wanna spend time with you, too."

Kian speaks up behind me. "Did you hear that, hon? Our daughter is already getting sick of us."

Sophia huffs. "More like sick of you."

I can't help but laugh, turning my focus back to Azalea. "I promise, if it's okay with everyone else, I'll come next time. Deal?"

She contemplates it for a moment before smiling. "Deal. But you have to pinky promise."

And pinky promise, I do. When I'm finished making a deal, I turn around to find Aurora looking at us both with amusement. There's a warmth in her eyes I wasn't expecting. Behind her stands someone I'd rather not see since he's apparently hovering. My eyes are drawn back to Aurora when she stalks toward me.

"You can join, if you want," Aurora says, bending down and opening her arms as her nieces rush into them.

My eyes glance up behind her. "No, it's okay. Really. I got to see you play. I can come next time."

I know that we aren't there yet. We're barely anywhere. Me showing up today is just the beginning.

But still, Aurora tries to clear the tension. "Are you sure? Really, if you want to come, you can."

I shake my head. "Enjoy your time with them. There'll be other chances for you to invite me," I say teasingly. Hoping to draw anything out of her. Even a twitch of her lips.

And they do. Barely. No one else would notice a thing. But I do. I pocket my hands and try to fight my own smile.

Aurora's curls float in the breeze that passes between us. "Okay, um… I guess I'll talk to you soon?" Her eyes rake over my crouched form, pausing on the ink wherever she can see it, like they have every time she's seen me.

It's awkward, learning how to navigate whatever our relationship is. Friends? Friends that haven't spoken in years, friends with a history of not just friends. It's all pretty fucking weird. I see it reflected in Aurora, too. In the very slight tension in her shoulders, the way she carefully thinks about everything before she says it.

"Sounds good." We both stand, the girls hanging onto her legs. "You played a great game, Aurora."

Her cheeks flush again. "Thank you."

I rub the curls that flow off the heads of the little girls hanging onto their aunt. Sophia pulls me in for a hug that feels like it did when we were teenagers. Kian mouths, "tell her," quickly so no one else sees, and I toss my hand up as I head to my car.

As I settle in the seat, I rest my head back. The past six years have been hard. Challenging in ways I wasn't ready for. Sometimes, it feels like I'm far older than I am, that it was ten years instead of a mere six. Dealing with the aftermath of Elijah disappearing from my life and the wreckage that was left behind took its toll on me.

Somehow, this—Aurora—feels harder. Maybe because before, we were always something to each other. When I left, I turned that to dust. At first, I thought there was no chance I could convince her to be a part of my life again.

But the heat of her gaze still lingers. The warmth in her eyes shines when I doubt she's even aware of it. The tension that zaps to life the moment we're near each other… There's a lot to be done, a lot of dust to be cleared, but it's not over.

Aurora and I could never really, truly be over.