My heart races as I tell him emphatically, “It’s not. You’re right.”

“I’ll talk to the Conways and tell Dimitri I won’t be working for him,” he says.

That’s the next step that will make all of this feel real.

“I can’t promise the Conways will accept my decision, though,” he warns. “If they got excited about Powerhouse, they might choose to transfer there, anyway.”

That makes my stomach flip—not only would Hallie still work with Dimitri, but if she leaves, Summit may not have much use for me anymore.

“If they still want Dimitri, they can go see his gym for themselves,” I suggest.

“Right,” he says. He pauses and bites his lip, then continues in a soft, serious tone. “I’m sorry it took me so long to listen to you. I should have trusted your opinion of him from the start. This isn’t an excuse at all, but I had a hard time wrapping my head around exactly how abusive he really was. I knew he wasn’t an easy coach, but everything you’ve told me is so different from the way I was trained—I just didn’t get it at first. And maybe I was starstruck by him. But I understand now, and I apologize for taking so long to get here. I understand if this isn’t possible, but I hope you can forgive me.”

He looks somber but heartfelt. When he offers up a hopeful smile, his dimple flashes beneath his tender, dark eyes.

“Thank you for saying that,” I manage. “It means a lot—it really does. Apology accepted.”

He ruffles a hand through his hair in relief and shoots me a grateful look. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

If Ryan and I broke up because he wouldn’t listen to the truth about Dimitri’s abuse, and now he’s come around and apologized, where does that leave us? I can’t help but wonder if the same question is on his mind. But even if we are on the same page, I’m not ready for us to move forward together again. All those months of hurt and distrust can’t dissolve in an instant. A single apology doesn’t reverse the pain I felt because of him.

And yet… I can’t lie to myself: my feelings for Ryan never went away. I shoved them down so I could stomach working with him day in and day out, and I tried to distract myself with Jasmine, with Sara, with cooking elaborate meals. Even still, I crave the easy way we used to joke around; I miss his secretly romantic side; I can’t forget how everything else melted away when he touched me. When we were together, he made me feel seen and understood—and I’ve spent enough time in the wrong relationship to grasp how special and rare that is.