Chapter 14: After the Win
824 Words
The game ended loud.
Cheers broke out before the final call even settled, the sound swelling across the court until it blurred into laughter, into voices calling over one another, into hands clapping shoulders in quick, uncontained celebration around them.
“Told you,” he said.
She looked up at him, her expression warm, easy, her eyes following the energy he carried with him.
“You didn’t disappoint.”
“That sounds like approval.”
“It’s an observation,” she said, smiling.
His gaze dropped, briefly, to her wrist.
The watch fit.
Too naturally.
“You kept it.”
She lifted her arm slightly, casual, unbothered, the movement light but deliberate.
“You gave it to me.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
A small, knowing smile curved at her lips.
“Then you should be more specific next time.”
A beat passed between them, quieter than the noise around them.
“Stay,” he said. “I’ll change.”
She glanced at the watch again, then back at him, something faintly amused settling in her expression.
“I have your entire life with me.”
Bobby stilled for half a second—just enough for the shift to register.
Then, softer, but certain—
“No… you have my entire heart right there.”
The words landed differently.
Not playful.
Not deflected.
Something steadier.
Something that stayed.
Athena held his gaze a fraction longer than before. Just enough to acknowledge it. Just enough to feel it.
Then she exhaled lightly, the moment easing—but not disappearing.
“Go,” she said.
The crowd lingered, still riding the high of the game.
Athena remained where she was, relaxed, the cap still on her head, the watch unmoved on her wrist.
A few Sales teammates passed by.
None of them subtle.
“Nice watch, Athena.”
She glanced at it briefly.
“Temporary.”
“Doesn’t look temporary.”
She smiled faintly.
“We’ll see.”
The looks lingered.
Knowing.
Because she hadn’t taken it off.
Bobby came back minutes later.
Changed. Composed again—but not entirely.
His eyes went straight to her.
To the watch.
Still on her wrist.
Something in his expression settled—quiet, satisfied, unspoken.
“You’re still wearing it.”
She met his gaze.
“You told me not to lose it.”
“That’s one way to make sure.”
A pause.
Then—
“I’m driving you home.”
Not a question.
Athena held his gaze, measured, steady.
Weeks ago, she would have refused.
Now—
she didn’t.
A small breath. A faint shift in her expression.
“Alright”.
Simple.
And the watch stayed where it was.
They walked out together.
Side by side. Unhurried.
And this time—
everyone noticed.
Conversations dipped. Eyes followed. Subtle nudges, half-smiles, quick glances exchanged between people who had been watching longer than they let on.
Sales didn’t even try to hide it.
“Good game, sir.”
“See you tomorrow, Athena.”
Too casual.
Too aware.
As they passed through the floor, Bobby’s hand settled—light, deliberate—at the small of her back.
Not forceful.
Not overt.
Just enough to guide.
Just enough to claim space.
Athena felt it.
Of course she did.
She didn’t step away.
Didn’t react.
If anything—she adjusted her pace to match his.
And that—didn’t go unnoticed.
“Athena.”
They slowed.
Sir Vic approached, composed as ever, hands in his pockets.
“Sir Vic,” she greeted, her tone polite, steady.
“Good game,” he said to Bobby.
“Thank you.”
Then his gaze shifted. Brief. Precise.
To her wrist.To the watch.
Then to Bobby’s hand—still resting lightly at the small of her back.
And back to both of them.
“You’re heading out together.” Not a question.
Bobby answered.
“I’m driving her home.”
Clear. Direct.
Sir Vic raised an eyebrow—just slightly.
“I see.”
A pause. Then, to Athena—
“Efficient.”
Her lips curved faintly.
“Always.”
Another glance—this time unmistakable.
Understanding. Then he stepped aside.
“Enjoy your evening.”
They continued walking.
Behind them, voices resumed—quieter now, less contained.
Sales had seen.Heard.
And now—they speculate about the truth to the rumors circulating.
Outside, the air felt cooler. Quieter.
Bobby unlocked the car.
“You didn’t argue,” he said.
Athena glanced at him, amused.
“Should I have?”
“You usually do.”
She smiled slightly.
“Maybe I didn’t feel like it today.”
“That’s new.”
“Not entirely.”
He opened the passenger door.
She paused—just briefly.
Then got in.
The watch still on her wrist.
The door closed.
And with it—whatever this had been—
shifted into something clearer.
Not accidental. Not subtle. Seen. Understood.
And still— Chosen.
- Writer
