9. Katerina
Katerina
Mid - January
Keep moving. If I stopped moving, the silence would let the thoughts back in, and I wasn't sure I’d survive them.
For two weeks, I put my body through a gruelling routine.
Wake up at five, run until my lungs burn, go to work at the arena, push through hours of player rehab, and come home to an empty house.
I ignored the group chat with Robin and Stacey.
I ignored the dozens of missed calls from Trent, his mom, Gideon, and most recently his dad.
I felt too stupid to answer any of them. How could I explain to my friends that I’d fallen for a complete illusion? That I had let myself believe, for one beautiful month, that a man like Trent Prescott looked at me and saw his forever?
No one chooses you, Katerina. That was the cold, ugly truth that had been whispered into my ear my entire life.
My dad ran away, the second I became a burden my mom dumped me on Mary, a woman I had never heard of before the day I was pushed into her arms, and the man I gave my heart to only wanted me when he thought I was carrying his baby.
That is why he called you family Kat, not for you, because of the baby.
The negative thoughts had been loud, and I was thinking maybe I needed distance, needed more space than this city provided. But that thought caused a sharp pain to shoot through me, as if my heart absolutely disagreed.
I was wiping down the treatment tables in the arena’s medical room, my headphones blasting a wall of noise to keep my brain occupied, lost in the rhythm of spray-and-wipe.
A hand waved in my peripheral vision, and I jumped, pulling my headphones down around my neck.
Standing in the doorway was Jax, one of our starting defensemen, the six-foot-three giant who had physically stepped between Trent and me in the hallway last week.
He was holding two frosty bottles of Gatorade, his messy blond hair still damp from the shower.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Jax said, his voice soft for a guy who spent his nights slamming people into plexiglass. He walked over, setting a red Gatorade on the counter next to my elbow. "You've been here since six this morning, Sterling."
The team had called me by my last name, just like the names on their jerseys, and the captain had even presented me with my own jersey at the end of last year's season.
"Just finishing up," I said, offering a tight smile as I folded my cloth. "Thanks for the drink."
Jax didn't leave. He leaned his broad shoulder against the doorframe, watching me with obvious concern. "Are you okay, Kat? And it's fine if you're not."
My throat tightened, but I held my posture straight. "I'm fine. Just tired."
"Right. Tired," he repeated softly, leaning in a little closer, his blue eyes holding mine.
"Look, I don't know what that guy did or what kind of idiot lets a woman like you go, but for what it's worth, he's a fool. And I’d like to officially offer myself up as tribute to prove to you that not all men are absolute idiots.
You should give the rest of us a chance.
Or... just me. Let me take you to dinner. "
A year ago, a handsome, sweet man asking me out might have made my heart flutter. Tonight, it felt like reading a book in a language I didn't speak anymore. There was zero spark, zero pull. My heart was a locked room, completely numb.
"Jax," I said gently, giving him an honest, soft look. "You're a good guy. Truly. And I appreciate you having my back. But I am nowhere near ready for anything like that. I'm sorry."
He held up his hands in easy surrender, giving me a warm, understanding smile. "Hey, no apologies necessary. The offer stands if you ever change your mind. Get some rest, Kat."
After he walked out, I sank onto the edge of the treatment table, letting out a long, shaky breath. I stared at the red Gatorade, feeling the heavy, hollow ache in my chest expand. Even with a good man offering me a clean slate, I didn't want it. I was still bleeding over the man who had broken me.
My desk phone rang, breaking the heavy silence.
I wiped my face, stepped over to my small office nook, and picked up the receiver. "Katerina Sterling, sports medicine."
"Kat, it's Mark. Step into my office before you head out?"
Mark was the head athletic director, the mentor who had hired me straight out of my master's program and guided my career for the last few years.
I walked down the carpeted hallway to his office and found him sitting behind his mahogany desk, a thick folder open in front of him. He gestured for me to sit.
"I'll cut straight to the chase," Mark said, leaning back in his leather chair, a proud smile on his face. "I got a call from the front office of the European Hockey League this morning. Their top franchise in Zurich needs help in their medical department, and they asked me for a recommendation."
I blinked, processing the words slowly. "Zurich?"
"Zurich," Mark confirmed, sliding the paper across the desk to me.
“Their lead clinician had a sudden emergency leave right before the playoff push.
They need someone sharp who can hit the ground running immediately through May.
They're stuck and offering higher than average emergency contract rates, Kat, plus housing. It would easily cover a big chunk of the tuition if you still want to go back to school for your MD.”
He knew. He was the only person, outside of Trent, who knew about my pipe dream, the dream of becoming a full sports medicine physician that I’d shelved years ago because I couldn't afford the loan debt without a safety net.
"It's a dream offer, Kat," Mark added softly, studying my pale face. "Maybe a reset. You look like you could use one. "
A reset. An ocean away from Trent, from his family, from the life I thought I was building.
It was everything I had worked for. It was proof that I didn't need a man, that I could build my own future piece by piece. But as I looked at the folder on the desk, my stomach churned with an overwhelming exhaustion.
"Mark... this is incredible. Truly," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just... can I have some time to think about it?"
He frowned slightly, concern softening his eyes. "I can buy you a few days… But Kat, opportunities like this don't come around twice. They needed someone out there yesterday.” He studied me for a moment before adding, “Don't let anything hold you back from what you deserve."
"I won't," I murmured, holding the folder tightly against my chest.
I walked out to my car in the freezing night air. This would be a major promotion, a path to medical school, and a clean break across the Atlantic.
It was everything I’d ever wanted. So why did it feel like running away?