She shifts, her leg brushing mine beneath the sheet, her palm still resting over my heart like she’s reclaiming the piece of me I gave to her months ago.

She lays her head on the pillow beside mine, lashes fluttering as she studies me.

“Something we didn’t talk about earlier––”

I tilt my head, watching her. Waiting.

“You thought we were over, so how did you end up in Charleston?”

“I came to Dallas to see a doctor.”

Her entire body tenses, and she rolls on her side, pushing up onto her elbow to see my face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

I roll and face her, smoothing a hand down her back. “I had a consultation with a surgeon about my ankle.”

Her brows pull together, and I can see the concern settling deep. “Has it been giving you more trouble?”

“No worse than before.” Except it hurts like hell right now after fighting with Tyson. I think I may’ve done something to it. But I’m keeping that to myself.

“There’s a specialist in Dallas who’s renowned for repairing Achilles injuries. He says mine didn’t heal right and I need another surgery.”

Now isn’t the time to bring up returning to rugby. I’ll tell her when the time is right. For now, it’s just a surgery that must be done regardless—one step in a long line of unknowns. There’s no sense in discussing the future when I’m not sure yet if I have a chance at playing again.

“When is the surgery?”

“Next week.”

The look on her face says wow, that’s soon. “Are you going back to Sydney until then?”

“That was the plan. I was already on my way back, but I came here instead.”

“What made you change course?”

She may not like my answer, but it’s the truth. “Our breakup wrecked me. I thought I might be able to move on if I had closure. But I know now how damn ridiculous that is. I was a fool to think I could ever move on from you.”

“How did you find me at the dance studio?”

“I went to Soul Sync. The client specialist assigned to me in Sydney was there. She said I might enjoy the aerial dance studio.”

Magnolia’s lips twitch. “You mean Whitney?”

“Maybe. I still don’t know her name.” I smirk. “Due to that strict-as-fuck Soul Sync privacy policy.”

“Well, well.” She shakes her head, amused. “Didn’t think Miss-By-the-Book Whitney had it in her.”

“Guess she does.” Thank God she wasn’t so uptight today.

She lets out a quiet laugh, but it fades as she studies my face. “What are we doing, Alex?”

There’s no hesitation on my part. No second-guessing. “Not sure. I only know that I can’t be apart from you. I won’t do it again.”