‘And eventually, the woman began to feel less and less lonely. She went into town, found friends in the other women, many of whom had started out feeling just as isolated as her. She fell for the ranch the way she’d fallen for her husband. She started teaching dance out of a barn studio he built for her, and slowly but surely, her side hustle blossomed. A few years later, the two of them had their daughter. Their one and only.’ Mumma lays a kiss on the top of my head, poking my ribs with every word. ‘Manmayi. Corina. Velasco.’

‘Mom,’ I laugh, batting her hand away.

‘May,’ she shoots back. ‘They taught their daughter to love the farm, too. They taught her the importance of hard work, of passion, and of chasing your dreams. Most importantly … they taught her to never, ever let the odds keep her from believing that somehow, some way, everything will end up right where it’s supposed to.’ Mumma’s warm smile is a salve, taking away everything that stings and replacing it with hope. ‘Just like us.’

‘Will it?’ I whisper, curling up so my head is in my mom’s lap. ‘Even if it seems like we made the wrong decision? Like I made the wrong decision?’

‘Oh, puttar.’ Mumma strokes my hair, her rings clicking together in synchrony. ‘It may feel wrong in the moment. It often does, for that matter. But every decision you make brings you closer to where you’re meant to be.’

Where I’m meant to be.

What if I’m meant to be in the MLL? What if I’m meant to be in Colt’s arms, in Colt’s truck, in Colt’s life? What if my mom is wrong, and I never end up there? Because it really seems like I won’t. Ever again.

Chapter Forty-Three

Missed Me

Colt

The instantaneous media campaign that follows me to New Haven is gutsy. Photos of May and me from earlier in the season are all over Twitter, labelled, ‘I think CJ Bradley and May Velasco broke up???’ and, ‘THE lacrosse couple apparently didn’t last.’ I do one of those dumb obligatory Instagram story posts at the insistence of the Riders PR team: May and I have peacefully parted ways. We decided this was in our mutual interests, and we have no hard feelings … yada, yada. The fake statements are easier to write than any real words I ever had to muster to talk to May.

‘Getting back to a hundred per cent isn’t linear.’

Dr Mendoza leans back in her chair, crossing one leg over another. ‘I want to make sure you feel that you’re fully prepared – that you have all the tools you need to navigate this season. And part of those tools include the ability to accept what is not in your control.’