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“The thing you’re thinking. The reason you won’t fight for me.”

He looked down at the floor.

“Brashe. Say it.”

His jaw worked. When he finally spoke, his voice came out rough. “You’ll resent me for making you choose. For being the reason you turned down the best opportunity of your career.”

There it was, the fear he’d been carrying forever.

“You think that’s what this is about?” I asked. “You?”

“Isn’t it?”

“No, it’s about me.”

He blinked.

“Denver isn’t just a job,” I said. “It’s proof that I’m good enough. That I’m worth something beyond fixing broken hockey players in a city where my brother has to vouch for me.”

“Crim didn’t have to do that.”

“Everyone knows I’m his sister first, a therapist second. In Denver, I’d be Dr. Lundrig. Just me. My work. My worth.”

Understanding dawned in his eyes.

“You think you’re only valuable for what you do in the net,” I said quietly.

He nodded once.

“And I think I’m only valuable for what I do in the treatment room.”

We stared at each other. Two broken people who’d fallen in love. And neither of us believed we were enough.

“Then go to Denver,” he said.

“Stop saying that.”

“I mean it. Go prove to yourself what I already know. That you’re brilliant. That you’re worth every opportunity. That any organization would be lucky to have you.”

The sad thing was that I believed him.

“But I’ll miss you every single day until you come back,” he said.

My chest ached. “What if I don’t come back?”

His whole body jerked like I’d punched him. “I’ll miss you every single day anyway.”

“This isn’t fair,” I said. “You shouldn’t be reasonable. Understanding. Supportive.”

“You want me to be a dick?”

“Yes! No. I don’t know.”

I sat on the treatment table. He stayed standing, keeping distance between us.

“Why did you bring coffee this morning?” I asked.

“Because you drink it every day at 7:15.”