Chapter 20 Chapter 20
Emily's POV
The athletic complex was quieter than usual today. Most teams were still in early practice sessions across campus, which meant the rehabilitation room was almost empty except for the soft hum of the ventilation system. I placed Noah’s recovery chart on the counter and opened the tablet that tracked his progress.
His shoulder mobility had improved again this week, which was impressive considering his lifestyle, but somehow he kept showing up for rehab. That thought alone lingered longer than it should have.
I adjusted the resistance bands hanging on the wall when a familiar voice spoke behind me. “Busy morning?”
I turned around, Lucas stood in the doorway. Even in casual clothes he looked composed, he was wearing a dark coat, neatly pressed shirt, his posture was relaxed but confident. The opposite of Noah in almost every visible way.
“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Good morning.”
Lucas stepped inside the rehab room slowly, glancing around with quiet interest. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“No,” I said. “Noah’s not here yet.”
Lucas nodded. “That sounds like him.”
I smiled faintly. “He’s usually late.”
Lucas walked closer to the therapy table where Noah normally sat during sessions. “So this is where the miracle happens.”
“It’s not a miracle,” I said.
“It sounds like one.”
I crossed my arms lightly. “You’re exaggerating.”
He leaned against the counter. “My brother has never followed instructions in his life.”
“That’s not entirely true.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”
“He argues first, but eventually he listens.”
Lucas laughed softly. “That’s new.”
I picked up the tablet and opened Noah’s rehabilitation progress chart. “Well, his shoulder stabilization has improved significantly in the past two weeks.”
Lucas stepped closer to look at the screen. “What exactly are you correcting?”
“Muscular asymmetry.” I zoomed in on the muscle mapping. “His deltoid and rotator cuff are compensating for weak scapular stabilizers.”
Lucas studied the diagram carefully. “That’s what causes the instability?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re retraining those muscles?”
“Exactly.”
Lucas nodded slowly. “You’re basically reprogramming how his body moves.”
I was amazed. “That’s… actually a very accurate way of describing it.”
Lucas smiled. “I work with performance analysts occasionally. Not medical experts, but close enough to understand the concepts.”
That explained the thoughtful questions, most people I spoke to about rehabilitation lost interest halfway through the explanation. Lucas was really listening.
“And the recovery timeline?” he asked.
“If he keeps improving at this rate, he could be back at full performance in six to eight weeks.”
Lucas considered that. “Impressive.”
“It’s not just me. He’s doing the work.” I said.
Lucas glanced towards the empty doorway. “That’s the surprising part.”
I laughed softly. “He complains the entire time.”
“That sounds more familiar.”
Lucas walked around the therapy table slowly, observing the equipment. “You’re the first person who has managed to slow him down.”
I looked up. “He doesn’t slow down easily.”
Lucas smiled faintly. “He never has.”
There was something in his voice when he said it, as if he was remembering a memory.
“What was he like growing up?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Lucas paused. For a moment I thought he might dodge the question, but then he leaned casually against the wall.
“Loud,” he said.
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“He climbed everything.”
“Everything?”
“Trees, fences, the roof once.” I laughed. Lucas continued. “He hated rules.”
“That still applies.”
“But he loved competition. Anything physical such as sports, racing bikes, and climbing walls.”
“That also still applies.”
Lucas nodded slowly. “He always needed motion.”
I leaned against the therapy table. “That actually explains a lot.”
Lucas studied me thoughtfully. “You understand him better than most people do.”
I shrugged. “I understand athletes.”
“Not all athletes are Noah.”
“No,” I admitted. “They aren’t.”
"Would you like coffee?" He asked.
"I need to sort this session out," I said trying to focus on my job.
"It's just one coffee." He smiled. He had a handsome smile about him.
I sucked in a deep breath, "Okay, why not?" I said as I placed my tablet on the table and we left the rehabilitation room.
We walked towards the small cafe attached to the athletic complex. It was nearly empty this early. Lucas ordered coffee and I ordered tea. We sat at a table near the window overlooking the training field.
For a moment neither of us spoke. Lucas stirred his coffee slowly. “You’re not intimidated by him,” he said eventually.
“No.”
“That’s rare.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Most people either idolize him or resent him.”
“I just treat him like a patient.”
Lucas smiled. “That’s probably why he listens.”
I frowned slightly. “He doesn’t always listen.”
“But he shows up.” That was true. He showed up every morning, even when he complained.
“He’s disciplined when he wants to be,” I said.
Lucas leaned back in his chair. “He always was.”
The sunlight through the cafe window caught the edge of his face, highlighting the resemblance between the brothers. Same sharp features, same blue eyes, but the energy was completely different. Lucas was the calm one. Noah felt like a thunderstorm that could roll in without warning.
Lucas noticed my expression. “What?”
“You’re very different from him.”
Lucas laughed quietly. “Yes.”
“You’re… calmer.”
“I’m older.”
“That’s not the only reason.”
Lucas didn’t argue. Instead he said something unexpected.
“You know, Noah pretends he doesn’t care about people.”
I frowned slightly. “Pretends?”
Lucas nodded.
“But that’s not true.”
I waited. Lucas looked out the cafe window towards the athletic field.
“He just learned very early that caring about people can hurt you.”
The comment surprised me. I studied him carefully. “You mean your family.”
Lucas glanced back at me. “You’ve noticed the tension.”
“It’s hard not to.”
Lucas took a sip of his coffee. “My parents got divorced because our father had an affair with his mother. Everything changed when she came into the picture, we were a happy family but I guess my mother or my mother and I weren't good enough for him. My mother struggled to give him another child, so Noah's mother was the perfect person. She was pretty, but that didn't last either because it turned out that my father was eyeing another woman, he ended up being violent. She died in a car accident when they had an argument," He looked at nothing as if remembering those memories like they were playing out right in front of him. "Noah was very young, he was in the backseat of the car. I think he still has trauma, but hides it well. Although, his mother ruined our family, I was still there for Noah as young as he was...as young as I was. He's my brother after all." He shrugged. Taking a sip of his coffee.
“That's...a lot" I said, not knowing before what their lives was like. "I'm sorry."
Lucas smiled faintly. "Well, it's our lives"
I hesitated. “Noah doesn’t talk about it.”
“No,” Lucas said quietly. “He wouldn’t.” There was a weight in that statement. Years of history compressed into that whole paragraph. “Still,” Lucas continued, “he’s always been protective of the people he cares about.”
I thought about Noah confronting teammates, arguing with coaches, defending younger players during practice. I had seen flashes of that side of him.
“But he hides it,” Lucas said.
“Yes.”
Lucas stood up, “Well,” he said lightly, “I’ve taken enough of your time.”
I stood up too. “This was actually really interesting.”
Lucas smiled. “I’m glad.”
As we walked back towards the rehabilitation wing, his earlier comment lingered in my mind.
Noah pretends he doesn’t care about people.
But that’s not true. I thought about Noah’s frustration during rehab. His sarcasm. The way he always pushed himself even when it hurt. And suddenly the image of him laughing with teammates or teasing me during exercises looked slightly different
Lucas paused at the exit doors. “Take care of him,” he said casually.
“That’s my job.”
Lucas smiled knowingly. “Yes,” he said and then he left. I stood there in the quiet hallway of the athletic complex thinking about something I hadn’t considered before. Maybe Noah wasn’t as simple as I thought he was. And that realization felt more dangerous than it should have.