“Move out of my f*****g way,” I whispered, my voice laced with nothing but pure contempt as I pushed my way through the crowded airport, desperate to get outside. I didn’t care about pleasantries or polite apologies. I just needed to get to her. I needed to see her face, hold her in my arms, hear her voice—anything to remind myself that we were still okay. That she was still mine.
The week away from Cora had been f*****g miserable. It wasn’t just missing her, it was a gnawing emptiness that never let up. Every minute without her felt like a slow form of torture. Sure, I had done what I was supposed to. I played hard, bagged yet another championship title, earned a rough shoulder clap from my coach, and got pulled aside by the team managers who wanted to renew my contract for another five
