Page 120 of Heal Me, Love Me

His fingers dug into the back of my sweatshirt. “I know you do, but you have to.”

I closed my eyes and breathed him in, trying to hold on to the scent of his shampoo and of him, but none of it was enough. “It feels different this time.”

“When I moved to Florida, leaving sucked, but it still felt temporary. I was going there to train, get better, and figure out what came next.” I glanced toward the security checkpoint, then back at him. “Now there’s a fight. Grant’s building my social media presence. Atlantic is posting about me, and Coach Isaac is already talking about what happens after this camp.”

Keaton’s hand moved down my arm. “Ro.”

“I know it’s good. It’s what I wanted.” I took a breath, but it didn’t help much. “It just doesn’t feel short-term anymore, and I don’t think any of us want to say that out loud.”

“That doesn’t mean what we have goes away.”

“No, but I still have to leave you after only seeing you for a few days at a time.” My voice dropped as I looked at him.

And if my career went the way I wanted, I’d keep leaving Keaton for fight camp after fight camp, spending months in Tampa that could turn into years if my body held up and Atlantic Combat remained the right place for me. Fighting wasn’t forever, but it wasn’t short-lived either. Not if I was successful.

The first month apart had been hard, but that didn’t mean we’d figured anything out. We’d survived because we had no other choice, because phone calls and texts were better thannothing, and because missing him was easier than giving up what I’d gone to Tampa to chase.

But a month wasn’t years.

Years meant building a life in one place while the people I loved stayed in another. Years meant asking Keaton to keep choosing me through screens, flights, missed mornings, and all the ordinary days we couldn’t get back. We’d already lost four years, not due to distance, but to silence and anger. We’d both been pretending that not talking hurt less than admitting how much we still mattered to each other.

I kissed him before I could say anything more. His kiss was soft at first, then harder for a brief second before he pulled back.

“Go,” he whispered.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

His palm pressed against my chest, right over my heart, then fell. “Call me when you get to the dorms.”

“Okay.” I forced myself to step back, grab my bag, and head toward the TSA line before I could change my mind. I took a few steps, then couldn’t help but turn around.

He lifted his hand, and I lifted mine. Then the line moved, and I had to move with it.

After I landed in Tampa,I called Mom from the rideshare to let her know I’d made it back to Florida. It was already dark when the car dropped me off at fighter housing. I gave the guys a quick hey as I passed by, then went straight to my room to drop off my bag and video-call Keaton.

He answered on the second ring, which revealed he was stretched out on the couch in the living room with his hair loose around his shoulders. “You made it back.”

“Yep, and calling like I promised.”

“Look at you, missing me enough to listen.”

Mason’s voice carried from behind him. “Ew. You two are like a cheesy rom-com.”

Derek appeared behind the couch, an ice pack in his hand. “I’d say more of a sports romance.”

Keaton turned his head. “How do you even know that?”

“I read smut, so I know what women want in bed.”

Mason made a gagging sound. “Please never say smut again.”

Derek shrugged. “My record speaks for itself.”

Keaton looked back at me. “I hate living here.”

I chuckled. “No, you don’t.”