His shoulders tense first.
Then his brows pull together.
The easy looseness in his stance disappears.
He says something to her. I can’t hear the words from here, but I see the confusion forming on his face. See the moment her answers stop making sense to him.
Or maybe start making too much sense.
My stomach drops.
What is she telling him?
The crowd explodes again when one of the little boyswins his race, but Parker doesn’t even look toward the finish line. His focus stays locked on Nadia now.
Listening.
Trying to piece something together.
Fear crawls up my throat.
Because I know that look.
I’ve seen it in sessions when his confidence starts slipping away from him. When his brain gets trapped between instinct and doubt.
It’s the exact moment he starts spiraling.
And I did this to him.
Not Nadia. Me.
Because I should’ve told him.
Before the late-night confessions.
Before the waterfall.
Before I let him love me.
Nadia says something else and Parker’s smile disappears completely.
His jaw flexes hard enough that I notice it from across the field.
My chest caves inward.
He looks… blindsided.
Hurt.
The adult competition is announced, but I’m already backing away.
One step.
Then another.
I can’t stand here and watch his world unravel in front of thirty thousand people.
Before his eyes can lift and find me, I slip into the tunnel.