Chapter 2

ONE THING THAT WOULD NEVER CHANGE about Télyn was that she hated meeting new people. It was the small talk, the awkward silences, the uncertainty that did it for her. No amount of therapy sessions or anxiety meds could ever change that. She felt content knowing she had people in her life with whom she’d formed lifelong connections.

But those people weren’t with her during her time at med school. Even Sade, who had lived with her for the past four years, didn’t see her as much as Télyn wanted to. Med school and law school had two very different rhythms, and neither of them bent easily to the other. Their schedules overlapped just enough to be frustrating, never enough to feel intentional.

That was how Sapphire slipped into the quiet spaces instead.

Télyn never understood what people meant when they said having a sister meant always having someone built in—someone who knew them without effort. Sisterhood came in many shapes and forms.

The sisterhood she had with Kiki was loud, messy, and immediate. It thrived on shared jokes, inside references, and an unspoken understanding that neither of them had to explain themselves. With Kiki, there was spontaneity—late-night calls, random texts, bursts of laughter that made everything feel lighter. It was a sisterhood of choice, built on years of friendship and familiarity, not biology.

But with Sapphire, sisterhood looked different. It tested her sanity every day, but it was also one she wouldn’t trade for the world.

It wasn’t until Télyn’s second year of med school that she realized something: Sapphire was her own built-in best friend. The love she had for Sapphire was unlike the love she felt for Sade, Cameron, or even Kiki. It was the kind of love that was never verbalized; it just was. Télyn never had to hold back around Sapphire. She could be sarcastic, stubborn, or downright difficult, and Sapphire would meet her head-on, matching her fire with her own. They argued constantly over little things, big things, things that made no sense to anyone else. But even in the middle of their chaos, Télyn never doubted the foundation beneath it all.

So even though she’d only made one solid friend during her time at med school, she didn’t care. She always knew Sapphire would be there. She was the first person Télyn called when she was bored, the one she complained to when life got overwhelming, the one who could make her laugh in the middle of a tough week. Télyn didn’t need anyone else because she had Sapphire, the person who understood her without explanation, who challenged her without judgment, and who, in all the chaos, was reliably, unwaveringly hers.

“Good morning, Télyn,” the receptionist, Macy, called when Télyn walked into the Wings’ facility. “Sapphire is in the gym.”

Télyn narrowed her eyes. “Okay.”

“Have a nice day,” Macy said, a smile as fake as her teeth.

Télyn didn’t say anything as she walked past the front desk. Macy was a rather interesting creature. She didn’t like Télyn, and Télyn didn’t like her. Not that Télyn had a problem with her, she just didn’t appreciate how every time she came to the facility, Macy pretended she was there to see Sapphire and not Paige.

One thing Télyn could give med school credit for was her tolerance for nonsense. Working in settings with people who didn’t look like her had worn the sweetness out of her. Not all at once, but gradually, sanded down by long hours and longer silences. She’d learned that politeness didn’t always protect you, that kindness was often mistaken for permission. So she stopped offering it automatically.

Before med school, she would’ve smiled back. Would’ve said you too without thinking, even if the energy was off. Now, she conserved herself. Gave people exactly what they gave her and not an ounce more.

“Saphy!” Télyn shouted, pushing the gym doors open. She scanned the gym, no Paige in sight. Sapphire was on the far end of the court, running drills, sweat-slick and focused, braid swinging with every movement.

Sapphire looked up at the sound of her nickname and immediately groaned. “I told you not to call me that in public!”

Télyn walked closer, her voice echoing throughout the gym as she spoke. “Guess what your momma did.”

Sapphire stopped dribbling, tucking the ball under her arm. She let out a slow breath. “What did she do now?”

“She called my dad and cussed him out,” Télyn said, stopping in front of Sapphire. She rolled her eyes when Sapphire burst out laughing. “That’s not funny.”

Sapphire shrugged and went back to her drill. “Kinda is.”

“Okay, but the reason she did it is so dumb,” Télyn argued. “I don’t get it.”

Sapphire shot the ball, it bouncing off the rim and back into her hands. “Ay! Look what you did, Princesa. You’re bad luck.”

“Paige would’ve made that,” Télyn said, rolling her eyes.

Sapphire looked at Télyn, then at the ball, and back to her. Télyn’s eyes went wide, and she ran away before Sapphire could make a decision.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Please don’t throw the ball at me,” Télyn pleaded.

Sapphire smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

“Okay, but for real,” Télyn said, sitting criss-cross on the floor. “Abue got mad because of the graduation gift my dad got me. Like, why not be happy your favorite grandchild graduated med school? There’s bigger problems in the world.”

Sapphire let the ball roll from her fingers, joining Télyn on the floor. “Because, for one, it’s your dad. For two, he always does this,” she said, her accent slipping just enough that Télyn had to focus to catch every word. “He thinks he can just drop a bag and—poof!—everything is fixed, but it’s never enough for Abue.”

“And I get that, but that’s just the relationship we have. It works for us.”

“So, your dad buys you a house for graduation, and you don’t hear from him for another six months… and that’s just normal for you?”

“Yes.”

Télyn and her father’s relationship had been the same for years. He checked in twice a year like clockwork, and now the occasional sporadic text about some random thing throughout the year was all that had changed. His love language was still practical gestures: gifts, favors, little surprises. Not long phone calls, not emotional check-ins.

She had long ago learned to read it like anyone reads words on a page. It wasn’t that it wasn’t enough, it was just… him. Not much about him had changed, but somehow she’d grown enough to accept it without frustration. The house, the texts, the gaps in between, they all fit the rhythm of her father perfectly. And maybe that consistency, predictable as it was, was kind of comforting.

“That’s crazy,” Sapphire said. “I couldn’t imagine that. I talk to my dad every day.”

Télyn shrugged. “That’s you and Lolo. Me and my dad… we do what works for us.”

“What is Paige’s family like?” Sapphire asked, curious. “Different from yours, I hope.”

Télyn laughed softly. “They’re perfect. So perfect it makes me want to cry. It’s like, I’m not even Paige’s fiancée to them, I’m simply a part of the family. I’m included in everything. They even added me to the family group chat. Never met half the people in it, but I’m honored.”

Sapphire tilted her head, smiling. “That’s why you don’t care if you talk to your dad or not. They’re your family while Tino is just your personal ATM.”

Télyn hummed. She never thought about it like that, but she did talk to Paige’s father more than her own these days. He may not have bought her a house, or deposited money into her account every month, or even known every little quirk about her, but he was intentional and consistent. He told her that he loved her every day. And to a woman who had rarely heard that from her own father growing up, it meant more than any gift ever could.

It made her realize something she hadn’t thought about consciously before: love wasn’t measured in grand gestures or check-ins on a calendar. It was in the way someone noticed you, how they made time, how their words matched their actions. Paige’s dad did that effortlessly, and it set a standard that her own father, well-meaning though he was, had never really reached.

Télyn let out a soft sigh, running a hand through her hair. Maybe that’s why she’d learned to accept her dad as he was without expecting more. It didn’t make her love him less, it just meant she understood him differently, and appreciated him for what he did, not what he didn’t.

“Let’s not talk about me anymore,” Télyn said, leaning back on her arms. “Indigo and Abue said they’re coming to visit soon. I know you’re happy about that.”

Sapphire groaned, pulling her legs up. “Princesa, please. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Télyn said, holding her hands up in surrender. “Abue said she wants to see Juni, and Indi’s coming to harass you.”

“Your dad’s in the cartel, right?” Sapphire asked, leaning forward. “Can he scrub me from the face of the earth?”

Télyn snorted. “Not without good reason,” she teased.

Sapphire sighed, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. “They’re staying with you, right? They’re not staying with me.”

“Absolutely not,” Télyn said immediately. “I’m putting them in a hotel close to my house.”

“Thank god,” Sapphire muttered. “I can’t handle both of them at once.”

Télyn shook her head, laughing.

Being around her family more often over the years really put everything in perspective for her. Abue was her grandmother—wise, nurturing, patient in a way that felt endless. She listened more than she lectured, offered comfort before advice. Télyn had grown up wrapped in that version of her, never questioning it.

But Abue was Sapphire’s mother.

And watching the way she hovered, corrected, worried, and demanded more from Sapphire made that distinction impossible to ignore. The softness sharpened into expectations. The patience turned into persistence. The love was still there, just louder, heavier, and impossible to escape.

Télyn glanced at Sapphire, curled up beside her, already bracing herself for the visit. It was strange, realizing how much context mattered. How the same woman could be so different depending on who you were to her.

“Should I lie and say I’m sick and that we should reschedule?” Télyn asked.

Sapphire shook her head. “No. Mama needs her yearly dose of Juni.”

“She spoils her so bad,” Télyn said, grinning. “Like that’s her own grandchild. Well… great-grandchild in this case. You know she bought her a baby Chanel, and Juni wears it to school every day to brag to her classmates.”

Sapphire snorted. “Isn’t she in kindergarten?”

“Exactly. She’s too young to even know what Chanel is. Her teacher called me one day because she kept telling everyone, ‘My sister said nobody can touch it because it costs more than your rent.’“

Sapphire burst out laughing. “Well, did you tell her that?”

“Not in those exact words,” Télyn said. “She wanted to take it to school, so I said only if she promised not to let anyone touch it because it’s very expensive.”

“That reminds me of you when we were kids,” Sapphire recalled. “You would visit, and you wouldn’t let any of us play with your toys because your mama said they weren’t community items.”

“That’s because Cyan kept ripping the heads off my dolls, and we’d end up fighting. My momma yelled at him so bad he started crying.”

They laughed together, the sound coming easy. Télyn liked how easy it was with Sapphire. They had stupid inside jokes from childhood that neither of them knew they even remembered. They could rant about family problems, knowing exactly how each family member would react before the story even finished. It was effortless in a way only history could make it.

Sapphire wiped at her eyes, still smiling. “Do you and Paige want kids?”

Télyn bit her bottom lip, a slight moment of hesitation before she answered. “We do.”

“Uhn-uh,” Sapphire said, sitting up. “You paused. Why did you pause?”

Télyn exhaled softly. “Because…”

“Because what?”

Télyn’s jaw tightened before she could stop it. She looked away, toward the far end of the gym where the lights buzzed faintly, like if she focused hard enough she could outrun the moment.

“Because we tried,” she said quietly.

Sapphire stilled.

“We did IVF,” Télyn continued, the words measured. “And it didn’t work.”

The air shifted, heavier, slower.

“I didn’t tell anyone in the family,” Télyn said.

Sapphire’s brow furrowed. “So you told someone.”

Télyn nodded. “Kiki.”

Of course.

Sapphire’s voice softened. “Té…”

“They said it happens,” Télyn went on. “That sometimes it takes more than one round. That stress, timing, a million tiny things can affect it.” She shrugged, but her shoulders were tense. “Med school taught me all the science. None of it prepares you for how personal failure feels when it’s happening inside your own body.”

Sapphire scooted closer, knees touching. “You didn’t fail. It just wasn’t your time. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Télyn said quietly, voice cracking. “And I’d tell my patients the same thing without blinking, but when it’s your own body… it feels like the end of the world. And there isn’t anything anyone can do or say to fix it.”

“When did this happen?”

“Early last year. The doctors were optimistic, so we were too. But after a few days, my body started doing things it doesn’t usually do. I was cramping to the point where I couldn’t even get out of bed. That’s when I knew something was wrong. Kiki was in town, so she came over… and I took a test. It was negative. Kiki tried to make me feel better. She said that sometimes there are false negatives, and that I needed to confirm it with the doctor, but I knew better. I could feel it in my bones before the test even confirmed it.”

She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. “She just held my hand and sat with me until Paige could get to me.”

Télyn still remembered that day like it was yesterday. She could still feel her fingers trembling when she grabbed the test from the bathroom counter. She could taste the pools of salt water in her mouth. She could hear Paige’s soft voice on the line, trying to calm her down even though she knew nothing she said could fix it.

“But you’ll try again?” Sapphire asked softly. “Do you want to?”

Télyn nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the floor. “Yes… eventually. Paige and I talked about it a lot. It’s a lot of money, so I didn’t just want to rush into another round without thinking it through.”

Sapphire’s eyes softened. “That makes sense.”

“We just want to make sure we’re one hundred percent ready before we try again. I’m scared of putting all of our hope into something and having it not work out.”

“I get that, but that’s where faith comes in, right? Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen,” Sapphire said softly, her eyes steady on Télyn’s.

Télyn let out a quiet sigh, looking down at her hands. “I know. It’s just hard sometimes.”

Sapphire leaned closer, her voice gentle. “You and Paige will figure it out. You always do.”

Télyn managed a small smile, lifting her gaze to meet Sapphire’s. “Yeah… we try.”

The gym felt quiet for a moment, the echoes of bouncing balls and distant whistles fading. Télyn let herself sit there a little longer, letting the weight of the conversation settle. It wasn’t a solution. It wasn’t a fix. But talking about it, sharing it… it helped, somehow.

Finally, Sapphire nudged her lightly, breaking the silence. “Paige should be done with recovery now. Wanna go see her?”

“Duh,” Télyn said easily.

Sapphire stood first, then extended her hand to Télyn. “Come on.”

Télyn took her hand, letting herself be lifted. “I need you to block Cam today. There’s a betting pool going, and I refuse to lose.”

Sapphire threw an arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. She glanced at Télyn with an amused smirk on her face. “You’re betting on me?”

“Sade is betting on you,” Télyn corrected. “I’m simply participating because I know you won’t disappoint me.”

Sapphire laughed, giving her a playful shove. “So you’re betting on me.”

“Whatever,” Télyn said, rolling her eyes. She looked over, her eyes landing on Sapphire’s braid. “You and Paige gonna wear matching hairstyles today, or no?”

“No.”

“Lame!”

“She said she doesn’t wanna wear a braid, and I don’t wanna wear a ponytail.”

Télyn smirked, shaking her head. “It’s okay. She’ll have a braid for today’s game. Trust.”

“Great,” Sapphire said sarcastically. “I love twinning with my vets.”

“This isn’t just any vet,” Télyn replied. “This is Paige Bueckers!”

Sapphire had gotten drafted to the Dallas Wings last year. Télyn was nervous about it at first. Sapphire and Paige had two different playing styles, two different personalities. But Paige was like a chameleon; she adjusted effortlessly to whatever the team needed. On the court, she could be aggressive or patient, a shooter or a passer, depending on what the moment demanded. Sapphire had her own rhythm, explosive and unrelenting, and somehow Paige slid seamlessly alongside her, filling in gaps, anticipating moves, and making the duo look almost untouchable.

“Speaking of Paige Bueckers,” Sapphire said, opening the door to the recovery room. “Hey, Bueckers.”

Paige was stretching her legs with a resistance band. She turned slightly, giving Sapphire a slight nod before turning to Télyn. “Hey, you.”

Télyn grinned. “Hey, superstar. Ready for the game?”

“Always. You and Juni coming?”

“Duh. We have our matching outfits all set out.”

Sapphire leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching them with her usual teasing smirk. “Don’t be dragging her into your corniness.”

Télyn gave her a side-eye and turned back to Paige. She sat next to her on the floor. “What should we have for dinner?”

“I think lasagna,” Paige said.

Télyn nodded. “That’s what Potato said, too.”

“So we’re having lasagna?”

“Yes.”

Sapphire burst out laughing. “Oh my god. Juni has y’all wrapped around her chubby little fingers.”

The couple glared at her but didn’t say anything. She was right. Juni had them at her beck and call, even from all the way across the country. After a few summers of catering to her opinions, it was second nature now. Her influence stuck around long after her shoes were gone from the entryway.

“I’m doing your hair for gameday,” Télyn told Paige.

Paige gave her a look. “Says who?”

“Says me. Saphy has her braid, I’ll have my braid, Juni will have hers. You need yours so we can be quadruplets.”

“I don’t want to be a quadruplet.”

Télyn stared at her, tilting her head slightly. She smiled. It wasn’t an ‘oh my god, you’re so cute‘ smile. It was a ‘you’re going to whatever I say‘ smile.

Paige knew that smile too well. She groaned, tossing her head back.

“Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll wear the braid.”

Télyn grinned. “Good.”

“Too corny,” Sapphire muttered from the same spot against the doorframe.

Paige snapped her head toward her. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Not really,” Sapphire replied.

Télyn’s eyes narrowed at her. “Sapphire,” she said flatly, a warning.

Sapphire rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in surrender. “Fine. I need a nap before the game anyway. I’m going home.”

She shut the door, leaving Paige and Télyn. Paige sat up, sitting criss-cross across from Télyn. The silence was safe and comforting. Télyn hadn’t had a silence like this since the night Paige proposed to her. Usually, they were dreadful, clouding her mind with unfinished thoughts and things left unsaid. But this one wasn’t. This silence was familiar. It wrapped around them the way it always had—steady, grounding, like muscle memory.

Paige watched her for a moment, eyes soft, unreadable in that way that meant she was paying attention to everything. “You okay?” she asked quietly.

Télyn nodded, though it took her a second to do it. “Yeah. I’m just… tired. More than usual.”

Paige didn’t call her on it. She never did when Télyn wasn’t ready. Instead, she reached forward and tugged gently at the sleeve of Télyn’s hoodie, a small, absent-minded gesture. “Come here.”

Télyn shifted closer, their knees touching, then their shoulders. Paige leaned her forehead against Télyn’s, eyes closing for just a beat. The room smelled like antiseptic and eucalyptus, the faint hum of the facility settling into the background.

Paige’s hand slid from Télyn’s sleeve to her wrist, thumb brushing lightly over the inside like she was checking something only she could feel. “Did you eat?” she asked, voice low.

Télyn hesitated. Just barely. “A little. I had yogurt with my medicine.”

Paige hummed, not satisfied, but not pushing either. She pressed a gentle kiss to Télyn’s temple, lingering there longer than usual. Protective. Careful.

“Do you want to eat breakfast here?” she asked. “They can make you something.”

Télyn shook her head. “I’m not really hungry.”

“Télyn.”

“What? I’m not!”

Paige pulled back just enough to look at her, brows knitting together. Not angry. Just worried.

“It’s not about being hungry,” she said evenly. “It’s about giving your body fuel.”

Télyn sighed, tilting her head back against the wall. “I’ll eat later, when I go home to get Juni ready. I promise.”

Paige studied her for a long second, then nodded once. “Okay. Later,” she repeated, making it clear she meant it. Her hand stayed at Télyn’s wrist, thumb still moving in slow, steady circles. “But if you get dizzy, if anything feels off—”

“I’ll tell you,” Télyn cut in gently.

Paige’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “You better.”

“I will,” Télyn assured with a grin. “When did you get so bossy?”

Paige huffed a quiet laugh, the tension easing just a notch. “The moment I realized how hardheaded you are.”

“Gotta protect this big brain of mine,” Télyn teased.

Paige shook her head, smiling despite herself. “That big brain is exactly why you don’t listen.”

“I listen,” Télyn said. Then, after a beat, “when I want to.”

“Which is close to never. Send me a picture of what you eat for breakfast. It needs to be a well balanced meal,” Paige said. She leaned her head against Télyn’s shoulder, exhaling softly. “I worry.”

The word sat between them, heavier than everything else she hadn’t said.

Usually, Télyn was the one who worried. The one who thought ten steps ahead, who double-checked everything, who carried contingency plans like a second language. Paige had always been the steadier one.

But that balance had shifted sometime between last year and now.

Now, Paige worried.

She worried because Télyn didn’t, not the way she used to.

Télyn’s teasing smile faded. She shifted just enough to rest her cheek against Paige’s hair, her hand coming up to cradle the back of Paige’s neck. “I know,” she said softly. “I don’t mean to make it harder.”

Paige’s fingers tightened briefly in the fabric of Télyn’s hoodie before relaxing again. “I know you don’t.”

They stayed like that, Paige’s head against her shoulder, Télyn steady beneath her. The hum of the facility filled the space where words weren’t needed.

“I’ll make a breakfast wrap,” Télyn decided. “Nice and balanced.”

Paige smiled at her. “Good.”

Maddy poked her head in just then. She offered them a smile before waving. “Hey, Té. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Thanks, Maddy.”

Maddy looked at Paige. “We’re running a quick scrimmage before everyone leaves.”

“I’ll be there soon,” Paige said.

Maddy nodded and closed the door.

Paige sighed dramatically and stood up. She reached out to grab Télyn, pulling her up.

“You sitting courtside or hiding out in the tunnel again?”

“I’m actually sitting in the lower level, for your information,” Télyn said.

Paige smiled. “Don’t try to steal my shine too much.”

Télyn snorted. “I’ll try not to. Marcel will be there.”

She liked going to Paige’s games, but the fans were… intense. When they weren’t out, people might approach her at halftime for a quick picture or autograph. Télyn never said yes; she was there for Paige. Now, though, almost everyone seemed to know they were together. Cameras flashed, fans whispered, some tried to get her attention mid-game. And no matter how used to the spotlight she was, it felt overwhelming.

Télyn usually snuck out during halftime, spending the rest of the game in the family room. But she shouldn’t have to do that. She should be able to watch Paige play without worrying about being swarmed, without feeling like every move she made was under a microscope.

It wasn’t fair to Paige, and it wasn’t fair to herself.

“I’ll see you later,” Paige said once they got to the gym. “Make sure you eat.”

Télyn nodded. “I will. Promise.”

Paige searched her eyes, then exhaled, satisfied for now. She pressed a brief kiss to Télyn’s lips, careful and restrained, like everything else today.

“I love you,” she murmured.

“I love you,” Télyn whispered. “Go be great.”

Paige’s mouth curved into that familiar, crooked smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And don’t think I forgot about your hair,” Télyn called over her shoulder. “I’ll be back in time to do it.”

Paige groaned softly, Télyn’s laughter carrying her into the gym.

ــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

“Go, P, go!” Juni yelled, jumping up and down as Paige hit a clean three. The arena erupted around them, Juni clapping her hands as Télyn sat next to her, smiling as she watched the game.

The Wings weren’t the best team in the league—though Télyn would argue they were simply because they had Paige—but they had come a long way from Paige’s rookie year. They had a great coach, were playoff contenders, and played cohesively on the court. They were building something beautiful in Dallas, and Télyn was glad she got to witness it.

“Did you see that?” Juni asked Télyn as she settled into her seat. “P hit a three!”

“I saw!” Télyn said excitedly.

Juni pulled off her noise-canceling headphones. She glanced up at the jumbotron, then turned to Télyn. “If P wins, can we get helado?”

“I’ll think about it,” Télyn said. “Do you wanna see TT Cam after the game?”

“Will she get me helado?” Juni asked.

“No.”

“Then no.”

Télyn laughed despite herself. If this was how she acted when she was Juni’s age, she’d send out a personal apology to everyone she knew right now. Télyn grabbed Juni’s headphones, putting them back over her head.

At halftime, Juni needed a bathroom break. Télyn stood outside of the stall while Juni handled her business. She assured Télyn that she was a big girl now and didn’t need help with her pants anymore.

“You good in there?” Télyn asked after Juni had been in the stall for five minutes.

Juni flushed. “I’m okay. My pants won’t button.”

Télyn laughed. She pushed open the door and motioned for Juni to come out. She crouched slightly, buttoning her sister’s pants.

“There you go,” she murmured, standing to her feet.

Juni walked over to the sink. She was too short, so Télyn had to hoist her so she could wash her hands properly.

“When will the game be over?” Juni asked, letting the warm water run over her hands.

“Soon.”

Juni nodded. “Will my basketball games be like this?”

“I’m sure they won’t take this long,” Télyn said. “Are you excited to play?”

“Yeah.” Juni flicked the water around. “P said I’m a baby GOAT. I told her I want to be a giraffe, but she said goats are better.”

Télyn laughed. “You can be a giraffe. Don’t listen to P.”

“Even when she says I’m good at basketball?”Juni asked, eyes wide as Télyn set her back on the floor.

Télyn smiled, handing her a paper towel. “Okay. That you can listen to.”

Juni nodded seriously, drying her hands. “Good. ‘Cause P said I shoot like her.”

“You do not,” Télyn said, laughing.

“I do too. She said when she looks at me, she thinks about you.”

Télyn paused. “Did she really?”

Juni nodded, very matter-of-fact. “Yeah. She said she loves you a lot. Like… a whole lot. And when she loves you, she plays better.”

Télyn’s chest tightened in that quiet, unexpected way. “Oh,” she said softly.

Juni shrugged like it was obvious. “She said you make her brave. And when she’s brave, she makes her shots.”

“That sounds like P,” Télyn murmured.

Juni looked up at her, eyes bright. “So if I’m good at basketball, that means someone will love me like that too, right?”

Télyn crouched down so they were eye level. “Yeah,” she said gently. “Absolutely.”

Juni smiled, satisfied, then tugged on Télyn’s arm. “Okay. Let’s go watch her win now.”

They made their way back out into the arena just as the second half was starting. The noise swelled again, familiar and loud, and Juni immediately perked up, tugging Télyn toward their seats.

Paige was already back on the court, eyes locked in. Télyn felt it in her chest the way she always did—the pride, the awe, the quiet kind of love that came from watching someone do exactly what they were meant to do.

Juni climbed back into her seat, headphones half-on, half-off. “She’s gonna win,” she said confidently.

“Of course she is,” Télyn replied.

As if on cue, Paige drove down the lane, drawing two defenders before kicking the ball out for an open shot. Swish. The crowd erupted.

Juni jumped up again. “See! I told you!”

Télyn laughed, steadying her. She stayed seated, eyes back on the court.

On Paige.

Paige glanced toward the crowd during a brief stoppage in play. Just for a second. Her gaze found Télyn and Juni immediately. Her mouth twitched into a small smile before she turned back to the huddle.

Juni leaned closer. “She saw us.”

“I know,” Télyn said softly.

Near the end of the game, Télyn and Juni walked near the tunnel, Marcel lingering close by. Juni insisted on meeting Paige after the game like she wasn’t going home with her. And since this was Juni’s world and she was simply living in it, Télyn obliged.

She held Juni on her hip while they stood in the sea of fans. Juni glanced around with wide eyes, perfectly in awe. This was her first basketball game since Télyn decided she was big enough to come. Juni glanced at the lady next to her, Sapphire’s face on her shirt.

Juni tapped Télyn. “Look, that’s Saphy!” she said, pointing at the shirt.

Télyn forced her hand down. “Don’t point. That’s rude.”

“It’s okay,” the lady said, smiling at Juni. “Aren’t you just the cutest little thing?”

Juni looked away, suddenly shy.

She tucked her face into Télyn’s shoulder, one small hand gripping the collar of her jersey. Télyn rubbed slow circles into Juni’s back, instinctive.

“She pretends she doesn’t like the attention,” Télyn teased.

The woman laughed. “I get that.”

Juni peeked out again, eyes drifting back to the shirt. “She plays real fast,” she said quietly. “Like zoom.”

Sapphire’s fan grinned. “She does. That’s why we love her.”

Juni nodded, then frowned, thinking. She leaned closer to Télyn’s ear and whispered, far too loudly, “Why does that lady have auntie on her shirt?”

Télyn bit the inside of her cheek. “Because Auntie Saphy is famous,” she whispered back.

Juni considered this. “Oh.”

She looked back at the woman, then down at the shirt again. “Saphy says she’s faster than P.”

The woman laughed. “Does she?”

Juni nodded solemnly. “Yeah. But P still wins.”

Télyn let out a quiet laugh, rubbing Juni’s back. “Alright, baby. That’s enough reporting.”

Juni sighed dramatically and settled against her shoulder again, completely satisfied.

Marcel shook his head behind them, smiling.

The tunnel began to stir, players starting to filter out, and Télyn’s attention shifted instantly, eyes searching, heart already finding Paige before she even stepped into view.

Paige’s eyes found them first, like always. She approached them, and the fans went crazy. Juni perked up, and Télyn took a step closer. Marcel closed in instinctively.

Paige’s smile broke across her face the moment she saw them. It was small at first, just for them, before she schooled it into something calmer for the cameras. The fans pressed forward, phones lifting higher, cheers swelling as she drew closer.

“P!” Juni called, waving both hands.

Paige laughed, pointing at her. “Hey, baby GOAT.”

Juni beamed. “You did good,” she announced proudly. “You won.”

Paige laughed, ignoring everything else for a second. “I did, huh?” she said, breathless. “That’s ’cause you were watching.”

Juni nodded seriously. “I watched the whole time.”

Paige’s eyes flicked to Télyn. She took her in quickly, like she always did, checking without making it obvious. “You okay?” she asked, voice low.

Télyn nodded. “Yeah.”

Paige relaxed just a fraction.

Télyn leaned in, closing the small distance between them. Paige met her halfway, wrapping her arms around Télyn in a quick, familiar hug. Télyn tucked her chin against Paige’s shoulder, just for a second, breathing her in.

“Good game,” Télyn murmured.

“Thank you,” Paige replied softly.

Télyn pressed a kiss to her forehead, like it was the most natural, obvious thing. And it was. Loving Paige out loud felt like running through a field of daisies on a hot summer day. There were no worries, no care, and definitely no fear of who was watching or what they might think. Just warmth, just certainty, just the quiet joy of choosing each other without hesitation.

Paige smiled into the moment like she always did. Like this love had never been a question, only something waiting to be lived out loud.

Paige reached down to peck Juni’s cheek. Juni giggled and leaned over, wrapping her little arms around Paige’s neck. Paige hugged her back, lifting her just enough to make her giggle. A few fans behind them oohed and awed, but Télyn blocked them out. She always did. This moment belonged to her family. Paige signed a few autographs before jogging towards the tunnel.

Sapphire came next.

“Saphy!” Juni yelled.

Sapphire jogged over to them. She gave Juni a quick hug. “Hey, kid.”

“You played good today,” Juni said. “But P was better.”

Sapphire kissed her teeth, eyes widening with mock indignation. “Wow, Juniper. And to think I was gonna sneak and take you to get ice cream later.”

Télyn glared at her.

Juni rolled her eyes. “TT Cam will take me to get ice cream.”

“No she won’t,” Télyn said. She turned to Sapphire. “Good game.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Sapphire said, bowing. “Now, I’ll take pictures.”

Juni pointed at the lady next to them. “Saphy, take a picture with her. She has your face on her shirt!”

Télyn forced her hand down again. “Didn’t I tell you about pointing?”

“Sorry,” Juni murmured.

Télyn pecked her temple and turned to Sapphire again. “But yes, get one with that lady. Anyone who wears your ugly face on their body is a true fan.”

Sapphire rolled her eyes before taking a picture with the fan.

Télyn put Juni on the floor and straightened her outfit. They would wait until Sapphire finished with autographs to go into the tunnel.

There were three girls behind them, talking obnoxiously loud. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know who they were talking about.

“Are they dating?” the first girl asked her friends.

“She literally just kissed her, and that kid looks like she could be their love child. What do you think?” her friend replied, whispering even though they were loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

“Plus, they hard lunched on Instagram like two years ago,” another girl chimed in. “People don’t think it was a hard launch, but it definitely was.”

Télyn laughed to herself, grabbing Juni’s hand so they could go to the family room.

“What’s a hard launch?” Juni asked innocently, swinging their arms back and forth.

Télyn looked down at her, smiling. “I’m not sure. Maybe we can ask P.”

It was what Télyn and Paige did after the 2028 Olympics. Tahj caught up with them after the awards ceremony and took their pictures. Télyn’s personal favorite was the one where she and Paige had their arms draped over each other’s shoulder, golden sitting between their teeth.

It was quite literally the moment that broke the internet.

Imagine you’re one of Télyn’s fans, half-convinced she vanished off the face of the earth after not posting for two years. You’re scrolling like always, bored, routine. Then you refresh… and there it is. A new post. From Télyn. Then you see it’s a collab. With Paige Bueckers. Your heart jumps. And then you read the caption—

winners love winning

And you scream so loud it shakes the multiverse.

Articles were posted, fangirls were losing their minds, half the entertainment industry was in the comments, sports shows were dissecting what this meant for branding, legacy, and women’s sports as a whole. Every clip of the awards ceremony was replayed, zoomed in on, slowed down—arms around shoulders, matching smiles, gold medals catching the light.

And then there was the silence.

No follow-up post. No interview confirmation. No captions explaining timelines or labels. Télyn and Paige went back to living their lives like they hadn’t just given the internet its newest fixation. The photo stayed up, the caption unchanged, the comments multiplying by the minute.

It became a timestamp. A reference point. The moment everyone circled back to whenever either of them did anything at all.

Two years later, people still talked about it like it had just happened. Like maybe, if you refresh your feed at the right time, you’d catch another glimpse into a love that never needed to be loud, just perfectly timed.

Télyn and Juni were settled on the couch for all of ten minutes before Juni fell asleep in Télyn’s lap. Télyn smiled at her, smoothing her hair.

Marcel lingered in the back, quietly observing. “Would you like me to take her?”

“It’s okay,” she said softly.

Marcel nodded.

Paige walked in, bag slung over her shoulder and braid still intact. She glanced at Télyn, then Juni before her whole face softened.

“Cute,” Paige whispered, her steps featherweight as she walked to the couch. She leaned down, pecking Télyn’s lips. “Hey, baby.”

Télyn smiled. “Hey. You wanna hold her?”

“Yeah.” Paige lifted Juni, careful not to wake her. Juni stirred softly, resting her head in the crook of Paige’s neck. She held her hand out. “Come on.”

Télyn stood, grabbing Paige’s hand. They walked out of the arena, the city buzzing around them. Télyn smiled, the Texas sun hitting her skin just right.

She used to swear she wasn’t a Southern belle.

But as Paige held Juni against her chest, the city of Dallas warm and familiar around them, Télyn felt something settle deep in her bones. This wasn’t a visit. This wasn’t borrowed time or a temporary pause before the next obligation. This was where her life would unfold now. Long shifts, early mornings, quiet dinners, and love that waited for her at the end of every hard day.

Télyn watched as Paige strapped Juni into her booster seat. After, she climbed in on the opposite side, and Paige sat in the passenger seat next to Marcel.

“Can we stop at the ice cream shop down the street?” Télyn asked.

Marcel nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Paige peeked in the back seat, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “You’re letting her eat ice cream in the middle of the day? In the middle of the week? What has the world come to?”

Télyn rolled her eyes, flicking Paige off. “It’s more for me than her.”

Paige gasped dramatically at that one. “Té Té wants a sweet treat? Oh my god, alert the press.”

Télyn snorted, leaning back in her seat. “You act like I don’t enjoy joy.”

Paige twisted halfway around in her seat, lowering her voice instinctively as she glanced at Juni. “You enjoy structure. This is growth.”

Marcel chuckled quietly as he merged into traffic.

“I enjoy not having cavities,” Télyn said. “And Juni will not be running around with silver caps all up in her mouth like a bebe kid.”

Paige laughed silently, shaking her head. “She casually has a Prada hair bow in right now. I think she’s automatically disqualified from being a bebe kid.”

Télyn glanced at Juni, still asleep, bow perfectly in place. “It was a gift,” Télyn said. “It doesn’t count.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “It absolutely does. It was a gift because her big sister is a brand ambassador for Prada. She is nowhere near a bebe kid.”

“We can agree to disagree.”

“Fine.”

Marcel exhaled softly. “I’m happy to say I look forward to enduring this every day. I’ve missed you, Paige.”

“I missed you too, Big Cel,” Paige said, grinning.

Télyn snorted when Marcel rolled his eyes.

Paige brought a kind of ease that made everyone else loosen up, even the stoic Marcel. Télyn had spent more time with Marcel than anyone else in the past few years, so she’d made it clear to him that he was family. He was allowed to laugh, or joke, or simply just be with them.

And Paige had taken that to heart. She made it her life’s mission to get a crack of a smile out of him. One day, in the Olympic Village, Marcel had an off-day, and Télyn and Paige invited him out for lunch. Very casual. But Paige was just that annoying fly you couldn’t swat away. She had gotten Marcel to laugh, to joke, to open up about his family.

He’d even let slip that he missed his kids more than he’d ever admit, and Paige had responded by telling him she’d “officially adopted” him as her favorite uncle.

Marcel had tried to act offended, but the smile that tugged at his mouth was real.

And now, sitting in the car with them, he looked… lighter. Like he’d been holding himself together for so long that he’d forgotten how to just be.

Soon, they pulled up to Télyn’s favorite ice cream shop. Marcel got out, opening the door for Télyn as Paige awoke Juni.

Juni awoke slowly, her eyes adjusting to the light. When she took in her surroundings, she nearly hopped out of the car.

“Ice cream!” she shouted.

Paige grabbed her waist to steady her. “Calm down, Bug.”

“Come on before I change my mind,” Télyn said, walking ahead. She turned back, noticing Marcel leaning against the car door in Sapphire’s jersey. “You too.”

Marcel chuckled and walked forward. “Yes, Ms. Rivera.”

Télyn smiled, satisfied. She let Juni and Paige fall in step beside her, grabbing Juni’s hand.

Juni’s eyes were wide and bright, taking everything in. She had that sleepy look still, like she’d just been woken from a dream and wasn’t sure what was real yet. But her smile was all the proof Télyn needed that she was fully present.

“Ice cream!” Juni echoed, her voice small but excited.

Paige was barely able to keep the laughter from her voice. “She’ll be knocked out as soon as we get home.”

“That’s the whole point,” Télyn said, her face melting into a buttery smile.

The tip of Paige’s ears turned red.

They walked into the ice cream shop, the bell above the door chiming softly as they entered. The air inside was cold and sweet, filled with the scent of waffle cones and chocolate.

Juni ran to the display like she’d been there a hundred times before, pointing at the rows of colors and toppings like she was choosing a treasure.

Paige leaned toward Télyn, voice low. “I swear, if she chooses sprinkles again…”

Télyn laughed. “She always gets sprinkles.”

Juni turned her head, eyes bright. “Sprinkles!”

Paige rolled her eyes, but her smile was real. “Yuck.”

“You yuck!” Juni said, poking Paige’s leg.

Télyn watched them both, feeling the strange, quiet happiness of a life that finally felt like it was meant to be lived.