Endgame: Chapter 16 (Patreon)

Endgame: Chapter 16

After my classes ended on Friday, I went back to my dorm room and did some homework to kill time until Morgan texted me that I could come over. She’d spent all day at doctors’ appointments to figure out what was wrong with her knee and what she’d have to do about it, and as anxious as I was to hear the news, I didn’t waste any time once she texted before leaving my dorm and driving over. Pip was outside on the porch swing when I pulled into the driveway, bundled up with a hot mug in her hands.

“No more gardening?” I asked.

“Nope.” She took a sip from her mug. “Now it’s time to sit on the porch until it gets too cold.”

“Have fun.”

She lifted her cup at me as I passed by and walked into the house. Morgan wasn’t in the kitchen or living room, so I headed upstairs and found her in her bedroom. She was lying on the bed with her left leg elevated and her hands folded behind her head.

“Close the door?” she asked when I walked in.

I did, and hopped onto the bed on her right and planted a kiss to her lips, but she didn’t look happy. “Is your knee worse than we thought?”

“Sort of,” she sighed, “but not far from what we thought.”

“Why do you seem more upset than that?”

She gestured angrily toward the door. “The second we got home, my mom started pouring a glass of wine. Like… can she just chill for one day in case I need anything?”

I frowned and stretched out beside her, wrapping an arm around her stomach while I laid my head on her shoulder.

“Sorry,” she said. “I am happy to see you.”

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to be frustrated.” I propped my head up in my hand. “Did you guys get in a fight?”

She shook her head. “I just came up here to mope.”

“Want to tell me what the doctors said?”

“It’s my ACL and meniscus,” she said. “I’m going to need surgery but at least I can finish out the semester first and not have to take time off.”

“What kind of recovery time are you looking at?”

“At least six months till I can play again.” She shrugged. “But it’s the last year of school anyway, I’d be waiting till I graduated to find an intramural league.” I nodded, setting my hand on her stomach to try and offer comfort. “And I talked to my dad…”

The way she said that gave me pause, but I asked, “What did he say?”

“He said he can get me a better surgeon and physical therapists in Oregon.”

The weight of her eyes was heavy as I stared down at my hand on her stomach. “Physical therapy too,” I murmured. “So, he wants you to finish school there.”

“It’s what he’s wanted ever since I left.” she said, and blew a hard breath through her lips. “Now he just has a guaranteed excuse to get it.”

“Can you even change schools in the middle of the year?” I asked. “What about application deadlines?”

She shrugged. “He’s an alumnus with friends in high places.” I nodded but didn’t say anything, and after a moderate pause, she asked, “What are you thinking?”

I finally looked away from my hand to meet her gaze, and I’d promised her that I wouldn’t lie about how I felt. “I don’t want you to go,” I said honestly. “It scares me.” I shrugged, pursing my lips in acceptance. “But if it’s the best thing for your recovery, then you should go.”

“It’s one semester,” she said in reassurance. “Four months, five max. I’ll just do the hardest parts of PT there.”

I couldn’t look her in the eyes when I asked, “And then you’ll come back?”

“Yes,” she said. I nodded still without looking at her, and she set one hand under my chin to direct my gaze to hers. “Audrey, of course I’m coming back.” She smiled. “You know, when we were driving around for my appointments today, we passed by Brightside PT. There’s a vacant unit just a few buildings down the street, with huge windows and big space. It’d be perfect for a studio.”

I managed a small smile. “Yeah?”

She hummed. “It cheered me up today, thinking about renting it, and about how when you’re working at Brightside we can have lunch together every day.”

And that finally got me to smile for real. “It’s right across from Center Street Park.”

“Yeah,” she nodded happily. “During the summer, we can sit and eat beneath a tree, and when it’s cold we can keep some soup or hot chocolate in a thermos and hang out on a bench before we have to go back to work.”

“And if you’re sculpting when I get off work,” I added, “I can come and watch you.”

“Sure,” she laughed. “You can be the goddess with perfect boobs that I sculpt.”

I poked her in the chest. “I’m not modeling nude in the studio.” She pouted. “But I’ll do it at home.”

“Our home,” she said, and when I nodded, she set her hand over mine, holding it to her chest. “I was serious about wanting a future with you.”

I gave her one deep, slow kiss and then said, “I know.”

And whatever sober mood she’d had earlier was lifted, because she said, “Where would I even display a nude sculpture of you…”

“Not in the studio,” I said instantly.

She hummed thoughtfully. “You know, it could make a nice entrance piece in our house.” She passed me a teasing grin. “Somewhere for guests to hang their coats.”

“Oh my god, no!” I squealed, shoving her hip playfully.

“Ow,” she complained through her laughter. “No roughhousing, I’m injured.”

“Sorry,” I winced. “Did they give you painkillers?”

“No, just Ibuprofen.”

I frowned, but it flipped almost instantly as I began to walk my fingers down her stomach. “Maybe I can find a way to distract you.” But I stopped when I reached the hem of her sweatpants. “Unless it’s not allowed because you’re injured.”

“Yeah, no, yeah,” she stammered, “it’s allowed.” I slipped my fingers under the edge of her pants. “But, wait… I don’t know how I could return it. You can’t lay on me, I can’t lay on you. I can’t even lay on my side easily to- Nope, never mind, got it.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her, and she made a picturesque frame with her hands and then motioned them down on either side of her face. I snorted with laughter, burying my face in the crook of her neck to cackle into it, “You seriously want me to do that?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, “why not?”

“I just always thought it was one of those things people said but didn’t really do. What if I add a neck injury to your list of problems?”

“I mean, don’t actually sit on me,” she laughed. “You just, you know, with your legs here,” she gestured, “and then you… here…” She indicated again. “Just where I can reach and… you know- why are you looking at me like that?”

I couldn’t help snickering. “I’m having fun watching you try to explain without too much detail.”

“Don’t tease me,” she whined, with her own teasing smile, “I’m injured.”

“Yeah,” I said sarcastically, “and you won’t let me forget it.”

She gasped with mock offense. “You,” she said sternly, reaching up and grabbing my head with a smile, “are the worst.”

She pulled me down to catch my lips with hers as I finally slipped my hand into her pants, and it was a good thing we didn’t have school tomorrow, because I wasn’t going home tonight.