Epilogue
XANDER HENDRIX
“Ineed to go home.” I stare across the table at my team of doctors and therapists, and all of them look . . . concerned.
“Listen, I know you usually go home in the offseason, but if we’re going to get the knee ready in time for—”
I hold up a hand, interrupting Dr. Rutherford, my surgeon.
“I know. But I’m telling you that I need to go home. To Montana. With my family. I leave tonight.”
“For the weekend?” Steve, the physical therapist asks.
“No.” I shake my head and lean back in the chair. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. When I get close enough to playing, I guess, but we’ve already established that I’m out for the next season. I can hire a physical therapist in Montana that can consult with you. I’ll do the same for doctors.”
The room goes quiet.
“I wish you’d reconsider,” Dr. Rutherford says, but I shake my head.
“I won’t.”
“Perhaps you can come to Denver for monthly check-ins?” Steve suggests.
“I’ll consider it, but I won’t promise. I’m telling you, this is what I need. I’ll heal faster there.”
I don’t waver as the medical team for the Denver Flurry share looks, and then I stand and walk out of the room.
I have an engagement party to get to.
I have a family to see.
And some decisions to make.