Chapter Text
The morning in New Jersey was supposed to be quiet. It was Marina's last day in her "sanctuary" before she was forced to pack her car to the brim and head back to the lion's den of Connecticut. She stood in her mother's kitchen, the floorboards creaking under her heavy footsteps, a sound she was all to familiar with since she was able to walk. Though today, the familiar house felt alien. It was a place for the old Marina; the one who came home for holidays with a tall, laughing girl trailing behind her, arms full of gifts, and a heart full of certainty and love.
She reached for the coffee pot her parents had been left warming up for her, letting the heat radiate into her chilly hands. Her hands were steady until she caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the door of the glass cabinets when reaching for her everyday coffee mug. Marina had taken note that she looked haggard especially when the light from the kitchen window had caught the pale, empty, skin of her left ring finger.
Suddenly, the smell of the coffee in the pot didn't smell like a Jersey morning anymore. It smelled like the expensive espresso pods Niya used to buy from the local coffee shop right near their apartment, The Snug Mug. The flashback hit her as if someone was physically there and shoved her into her own mind.
It was June, the golden sun was shining off of the glass cabinets into the same kitchen. Niya had been staying with the Mabrey's on a weekend vacation. The house was full of noise from all of Marina's siblings and their partner but for five minutes, the kitchen had been theirs. Niya had snuck up behind Marina while she was attempting (and failing) to not burn the pancakes she currently had on the stove, wrapping her long arms around Marina's waist and burying her face into the crook of her fiancé's neck. Marina felt Niya's warm skin melt into hers, smelling of the sun and the coconut oil she had previously put into her hair.
"I could just stay like this forever, Ri." Niya murmured, her voice vibrating against Marina's silky skin. "Just you, me, and your family's chaotic kitchen. We don't need any arena. Just this."
Although it sounded convincing, Marina had laughed and leaned back into Niya's embrace, feeling the unshakeable weight of Niya's love. "You'd miss the noise of the fans in 2 days max, Ni. You know you live for the crowd."
"The only crowd I need is you," Niya whispered, while Marina had managed to throw her head back farther into her hair until she turned her around to kiss her, a slow, deep promise that felt as permanent as the floor they stood on.
Marina's nostrils were attacked by the scent of burnt batter as she recovered from the kiss and leaned over to shut the stove off. "Let's go get breakfast." She said laughing, returning a quick and simple yet reassuring kiss to Niya's lips.
Marina's hand had jerked quickly from the memory. It was too sharp and all too bright for the grey reality of her life now. The pot had tilted and the scalding, dark liquid erupted over the marble counter, splashing across the back of her hand and staining the sleeve of her favorite sweatshirt. A sweatshirt she now realized wasn't her own.
"Damn it!" Marina hissed through gritted teeth. Yet she didn't move. She watched as the brown liquid pooled around her hand, the heat was a stinging pain that had taken her away from her flashbacks. Her hand had burned for about 3 seconds, turning her skin angry, red, and mottled before it blistered.
She finally grabbed a dish towel, scrubbing at the counter with a frantic energy. She wasn't just cleaning coffee. She was trying to scrub away the fact that she can still remember the taste and feel of Niya's lips on hers out of her mind. Most importantly, she was trying to erase the ghost of a girl who had promised her to stay forever and then traded teams to escape the memories of her.
"You okay in there, Rina?" Dara walked into the kitchen, her eyes immediately spotting the cleaned yet stained mess on the countertops as well as the growing red section of her hand. "You're distracted," she finished softly.
"I'm fine, Derl. Just a clumsy morning." Marina said with a sigh, convincing absolutely no one, not even herself while running her hand over cold water to help relieve the pain.
"You haven't been 'clumsy' a day in your life. Hello, you're a pro athlete. You have better hand-eye coordination than anyone I know." She leaned against the clean part of the counter, watching her and trying to lift her mood. Studying her, she immediately knew what was bothering her. "Oh, you're going back today. Hey, you know you don't have to go back today. Take another week."
"I'm under contract," Marina said, her voice sounding flat and robotic. Two words that should never be used to describe Marina Mabrey. Ever. "And if I don't go, she wins. If I hide here in Jersey forever, she gets to think she broke me so badly I can't even do my job."
"Marina, she did break you," Dara said, her voice dropping the usual younger sister bravado for something raw and genuine. "And that's okay. But going back to that city, to the same apartment... it's going to be like walking through a minefield."
"I'm not going back to the apartment," Marina said, finally looking at her sister. Her eyes were hard and the rims red. "I got a new place. A fresh start. No memories. No ghosts." She said, taking a deep guttural breath.
"Ghosts don't live in apartments, Ri." Dara said, reaching out to wrap her arms around her older sister, her hero. "They live in your head." She said in a low tone into Marina's head.
Marina had no energy to say anything back. She shut her eyes and refused any memories that dared to come to the surface. She settled into her sisters hug around her body.
Later that night, the Mabrey sisters decided to gather at their local bar. It was a dive bar which consisted of dim lighting, the smell of malt and wood, and a jukebox that played Bruce Springsteen on repeat. This bar was one of Marina's favorite. Mainly because here she was just "Marina from the neighborhood,", not a guard for the Sun, not someone who had a short temper on the court, she was just Marina. But tonight the atmosphere was noticeably heavy. Marina sat in the corner booth, a untouched Black Cherry White Claw in front of her. Her sisters were talking about extended family drama and although Marina was physically here, mentally she was a million miles away. Her brain currently thinking about how Niya's skin used to glow in the dim lighting of the bar, her white teeth standing out above all, how she would used to impersonate people from Jersey to make her sisters laugh.
"Stop it," Michaela said, nudging her shoulder with her hand unoccupied from alcohol. "You're doing it again. The 'Niya' Look."
"I'm not doing anything," Marina lied through her teeth, taking a small sip of her drink nothing that it tasted like cough medicine and she wouldn't get this flavor again.
"You're mourning," Michaela said. "And we get it. But you have to listen to us, Marina. The way she handled this with the trade request and the secret messages with that girl.. that was not just 'injury stress'. That was a choice. HER choice. She chose to burn the bridge with you standing on it." She finished all in one breath, finishing the rest of the mixed drink in her other hand.
"I know," Marina whispered, sounding of a 6 year old who just got scolded. "I know all of the facts, Mikey. I know she cheated and I know she left. But knowing it doesn't make my heart stop wanting what it wants." Marina was contemplating if leaving was the right choice. Maybe she should've stayed with Niya and worked it out in therapy or other outside intervention. Her first thought was that she needed to leave after being hurt but maybe she was wrong. Would it have changed anything?
"She made you like you were the problem," Michaela added, placing her empty glass down next to her. "She told you your love was 'suffocating'. Ri, that's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard. You loved her the way a person is supposed to be loved. And you left because her behavior was not acceptable. You cannot change it and you cannot go back." She finished, looking at her sister dead in the eyes.
"I know, I know. I just keep replaying everything and maybe if-." Marina decided to end her sentence before this turned into a 3 hour lecture she had hear many times from her older sister who was really just trying to help. But, repeating things Marina had already said to herself a million times over isn't really classified as help. "It's in the past now. I'm gonna head out now, go home and sleep and drive home in the morning." She said getting up, sliding her drink over to her sister.
"Okay," Michaela accepted defeat. "I love you, drive safe. Text me when you get there." She said in an older sister overbearing tone while squeezing Marina tightly in an intruding hug.
"Will do, Mikey. I love you." Marina said, removing herself from the long hug and saying goodbye to the rest of her siblings before heading home to grab the rest of her things, sleep, and then start the drive to Connecticut. She could already tell that 3 hours was going to feel like 30.
The drive to Connecticut was a blur of grey asphalt and rain. It felt just as long as Marina predicted it would, and she refused to let any memories rise while driving so she blared loud rap music to drown out her thoughts. By the time she pulled into her new apartment complex, the sun was becoming a shade of bruised purple on the horizon.
The key turned in the lock of apartment 4B with a metallic finality that made Marina's stomach drop, she felt nauseous all of a sudden. It was a new complex, a sterile modern building in Uncasville that smelled like a fresh can of paint, industrial carpet cleaner, and the kind of forced "new beginnings" that felt like a lie. She stood in the doorway for a long minute, her hands gripping the handles of two overflowing duffel bags until the straps caused a sharp sting of pain deep into her palms. The rest of her belongings in the moving truck had arrived an hour or two before she got there.
She didn't want to step inside.
In her mind, she was still standing in the kitchen of her shared apartment with Niya; the one with the sunlight that hit the breakfast nook just right and the scuff marks on the floorboards from when Niya tried to help Marina learn and film a new dance at midnight. That apartment was good and gone. The lease had been terminated, the furniture sold, and the life they started to build had been scrubbed away as if it were nothing more than a temporary living agreement.
Marina stepped over the threshold. The floor was a cold, neutral colored laminate. The walls were "Agreeable Gray," a color that felt like a personal insult to her current emotional state. She dropped her bags to the floor, staring the boxes that filled her living space. The thud echoed against the high and bare ceilings, a hollow sound that seemed to mock the silence.
"Home sweet home," She whispered in a sigh. Her voice sounding thin and raspy from the drive and lack of sleep she got the night prior.
She walked towards the floor-to-ceiling window that looks over the busy Connecticut landscape. In the distance, she could see the silhouette of the Mohegan Sun Arena. It was the place where she was supposed to be a hero this season. It was the place where Niya was supposed to be at her side, wearing the same jersey, and fighting for the same goal. Now, it just looked like a tomb of their aspirations. Marina's chest tightened, that familiar, sharp ache blooming behind her ribs. It was a physical weight, like she was breathing in water instead of air. She turned away from the window and headed toward the kitchen looking for any task to keep her mind from spiraling any further.
She grabbed a box labeled KITCHEN-FRAGILE and set it on the granite island. As she pulled back the packing tape, the sound was ripping through the quiet like a scream. She reached inside, pulling out a set of mismatched coffee mugs. Her hand stopped when she pulled out a ceramic mug with a chipped handle; it had a cartoon sun on it with the words "Mrs. Grumpy" something Niya had bought her as a joke because Marina was "too moody" in the mornings.
The memory surged forward before Marina could even try to stop it, unbidden and violent.
Two years ago, they had just moved into their first place together. The boxes were everywhere, a labyrinth of cardboard. Niya had grabbed a stray roll of bubble wrap and started a war, popping it very loudly and chasing Marina around the living room until they both collapsed onto a pile of blankets. They had ordered Thai food with the smell of peanut sauce and spice filling the air. Niya had looked at her as if she was the only thing that existed in her world, her eyes bright and full of a future that felt guaranteed.
"We're gonna be so good here, Ma," Niya had said, leaning her head on Marina's shoulder. "A championship and a home. We've got all we need."
Marina's finger tightened around the chipped handle. For a split second, she swore she could almost smell the peanut sauce. She could almost feel the phantom warmth of Niya's shoulder against hers. She turned around, her heart leaping into her throat, half-expecting to see Saniya leaning against the doorframe with that crooked, effortless smile. But the room was empty. There was only the low, mechanical hum of the refrigerator and the sight of her own reflection in the darkened window - pale, tired, and utterly alone.
She set the mug down on the counter with her hand shaking. This "fresh start" felt like a slow-motion execution. Everything she touched was as if she was reaching into her old life from the wooden spoon they used to cook Sunday dinners with to the coaster Niya would always forget to use. The heavy, suffocating absence of het person who was supposed to be unpacking these boxes with her.
She walked back to her duffel bag and pulled out her phone. Her thumb hovered over the Instagram icon, a habit she couldn't bring herself to break. She knew she shouldn't look and everyone she knew had all told her to stop. But the addiction to the pain was stronger than her will to heal.
She opened the app and saw a new post from a local sports account. Saniya Rivers stuns as she arrives in her new city.
The photo attached was high-resolution and professional. Niya looked... okay. She was wearing a vibrant purple sweatshirt, her hair braided back, walking into her new practice facility. There was no visible limp in the photo and video attached. She looks focused, Marina thought to herself as she kept scrolling between the photo and video. She looked like she was moving on. Marina felt a burning, bitter surge of resentment start to build. How could she look so composed? How can she walk into her new locker room and put on a new jersey while Marina was standing in a hollow apartment, surrounded by the ghosts of a dead relationship? She threw her phone onto the air mattress that the movers had blown up in the corner of the bedroom. She didn't have a real bed yet, she didn't even want one. A real bed felt too permanent, too much like she would be fully accepting that this was her life now.
She sat on the edge of the air mattress, the plastic crinkling loudly under her shifting weight. She reached up to rub her temples, and her hand brushed against her ring finger. The skin there felt raw and sensitive. She'd spend 18 months wearing a diamond ring on that finger and now, the absence of it felt as if she was missing a limb. The silence of the apartment began to feel heavy, pressing in on her from all sides. She thought about the night in October; the rain, the phone, the mascara stains on her face mirroring the betrayal she had just gone through. She thought about the way Niya had looked at her not with love, but with a terrifying kind of exhaustion.
"You make me remember every single thing I lost," Niya had screamed.
Marina curled into a ball on her cold air mattress, pulling her sweatshirt over her knees to help. She wasn't just grieving a person; she was grieving the version of herself that she had been when she was with Niya. That Marina was happy and hopeful. This Marina was merely a collection of jagged edges and "Agreeable Gray" walls. She closed her eyes, trying to force sleep to come but the apartment wouldn't let her. Every creak of the building sounded like a footstep. Every shadow on the wall looked like a silhouette she knew by heart. She was back in Connecticut, the place where they were once an "it" couple, and she was starting the season as a ghost in her own life.
"I hate you," she whispered into the dark walls of her empty room, her voice breaking. "I hate you for leaving me here." Even if no one else hear, it felt good to say. But as the first tear tracked through the dust on her cheek, she knew it was lie. She didn't hate Niya, not even a little bit. She hated that she still loved her enough to let the silence break her.
As she closed her eyes again trying to allow sleep to creep in, with boxes piled around her acting as barricades, she allowed another flashback to strike her.
It was their old apartment, just seven months ago. They had been arguing about something stupid such as who forgot to buy milk and it had turned to a wrestling match. They were laughing so hard they couldn't breathe any air, Niya's long limps tangled with Marina's. Niya had pinned her down, eyes glowing with mischief.
"Give up, Mabrey," Niya had panted, her hair untamed. "Just admit I'm the stronger one."
"Never." Marina had gasped, pretending to act offended as she pulled Niya down by the front of her shirt for a kiss that had traces of salt and home.
The memory was so vivid that Marina caught herself reaching out, her hand grasping at the empty air of her room. Her fingers were met with nothing but the chill of the air conditioner. The silence that followed was deafening. It was the sound of a life ending. Her eyes shot open as she just laid in the dark and accepted that sleep was not going to come anytime soon, the black mascara from her long day finally beginning to run as the first sob broke through her chest.
The air inside the Mohegan Sun Arena training facility was exactly the same as it had been 6 months ago : a thick, recycled mixture of industrial floor wax, old Gatorade, and the sharp metallic twang of sweat. To anyone else, it was the smell of a workplace. To Marina, as she pushed through the double glass doors at 7:00am, it was the smell of a crime scene. Running off of barely 4 hours of sleep and undereye bags out of this world, she kept her head down, the brim of her hoodie pulled low, her sneakers squeaking with an agonizing rhythm on the polished lobby floor. Every person she passed form the security guards to the front office staff to even the janitorial crew, gave her the same look. It was a look of profound heavy-handed pity. They didn't see Marina Mabrey the WNBA Player. They all saw the woman whose fiancée had requested a trade to get away from her.
She reached the locker room door and hesitated as she felt her stomach flip. She definitely should've ate more than a coffee and one bit of a granola bar. Her hand hovered over the biometric scanner. For years, this had been her favorite on earth because no matter what, win or lose, behind these doors was a family. Now, it felt like a cage.
Beep.
The lock clicked open and she stepped inside. The room was buzzing like no other, the energy of a new season was usually infectious with the sound of slamming lockers, loud music blaring from speakers, and the laughter. But the moment Marina fully walked in, she noticed that the volume had dropped by half immediately. It wasn't a total silence, but it was the kind of dip that happens when people are suddenly careful about what they're saying.
She walked straight to her locker in the same spot it had been in for the past few years, second locker from the exit door. But the locker to her right, the one that used to be plastered with Polaroid photos of them and "Good Luck!" notes written in purple ink, was stripped bare. The nameplate didn't say Rivers but instead was a empty, gaping grey hole in the wall.
"RiRi!!!" A pair of long arms wrapped around her from behind. Marina stiffened for a fraction of a second that was unnoticeable to anyone else as her body was still conditioned to expect Niya's touch, before she realized that would be impossible right now. She turned to see Rayah Marshall, her face tight with a supportive smile that Marina could tell was a cover up for a worried smile.
"I'm so happy to have you back, girl," Rayah said, squeezing her shoulders. "I missed that Jersey attitude."
"Thanks, Ray," Marina said, reaching out to give her a hug with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. After they moved apart, she started pulling her gear out of her bag, focused on the ritual of the wrap. Left ankle, Right ankle, High tension.
"Hey.. you okay?" Aaliyah Edwards asked, leaning against the adjacent locker. She was watching Marina's hands, which were trembling just enough to make the smoothness of the athletic tape crinkle.
"Hi, yes I promise I'm fine." Marina said softly, lying through her teeth but too tired to put up a strong fight. "Thanks for asking, Li" She said standing up, giving her a quick hug before heading to the bathroom for a quick moment of peace.
"Anytime," Aaliyah chirped back after their hug, walking back to her locker.
Marina heard the whistle blow from the bathroom, a shrill piercing sound that signaled the start of their first official practice. Marina walked out, adjusted her jersey, and walked onto the court. She didn't bring herself to look at the rafters or the tunnel. She was just focused on the rim.
Practice was a gauntlet, coach was in mid-season form, pacing the sidelines with a clipboard and a scowl. “Line up! Baseline to baseline! On the clock!”
Marina drowned out the squeaking of the players shoes as she ran. She didn't just run; she sprinted until her lungs felt like they were being scraped with sandpaper. She wanted the physical pain to drown out the mental noise. Every time her foot hit the hardwood baseline, there was only one thought in her head. One Rep. She's gone. Two Reps. She Left.
“Mabrey! Watch your spacing!” Coach barked. “We’re running 'Diamond'! Set the screen, pop to the wing! Let’s go!”
They had now transitioned into 5-on-5 scrimmaging. Marina was playing with a lethal, quiet anger. She was moving faster than the play called for, closing out on shooters with a ferocity that was teeter-tottering on danger. During a transition drill, Marina saw a jersey flash in her peripheral vision. For a split second, her brain had misfired. The height of the player, and the way they moved their hips had been all to similar to Niya. Marina's heart immediately hammered against her ribs as she lunged forward, her shoulder dipping and threw a hard, uncalled for foul into the player's chest. She hit the floor with a heavy bang, it wasn't Niya at all, it was a rookie guard, now gasping for air after Marina knocked it out of her.
“Mabrey! What the hell was that?” Coach screamed, the whistle blowing repeatedly. “This is a light scrimmage! Calm your ass down!”
Marina didn't apologize, she didn't get the chance to help the rookie up as her teammates had beaten her to it, staring her down. She stood there, her chest heaving, her vision blurring at the edges. The mascara she had applied this morning which was a habit she couldn't quit, was starting to sting her eyes as the sweat washed it down. She felt like she was vibrating, as if her skin was suddenly too tight for her own body.
“Take five,” Coach muttered, shaking his head. “Go get some water and get your head right.”
Marina walked off of the court, her legs feeling like jelly. She headed toward the training to grab a towel to wipe the sweat and the running makeup from her face. She looked in the mirror above the sink, the black streaks were back and she noticed how much of a ghost she felt and looked like.
“You’re gonna kill yourself out there if you keep playing like that.”
Marina looked up immediately registering her friends voice. Olivia Nelson-Ododa was standing at the door with her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. Olivia was the anchor of the team, the one who saw everything and said very little unless necessary.
"I'm fine, Liv." Marina said, scrubbing at her eyes.
"You're not fine. You're playing like you want to break someone or like you want someone to break you," Olivia said, walking closer. She leaned against the training table. "I know it hurts, Marina. I know it's messy but you cannot bring that breakup onto the court. The rim could care less about your heart and the ball definitely does not care about any texts." She finished with a light chuckle.
This also made Marina chuckle for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a slight smile on her face for a split second. "She requested a trade, Liv," Marina whispered, her smile now faltering into hollow, jagged grief. "She couldn't even look me in the eye and say goodbye, just an email to the GM. Five months of silence and now I'm back here, and every single inch of this building is riddled with her."
"Then reclaim it," Olivia said firmly. "This isn't her home anymore, it's yours. She ran away because she couldn't handle the weight of her actions. You stayed because you're stronger. But Ri, you have to stop playing like you're trying to outrun your own shadow."
"I don't know how to be here without her," Marina admitted weakly, a single tear escaping and cutting a clean line through the grime on her cheek.
"You learn by doing," Olivia responded, reaching out to give Marina's hand a quick and grounding squeeze. "One drill at a time. One game at a time. And when you feel like you're gonna snap, come to me. A) please don't take it out on our rookies before you scare them off and B) don't think you have to do it alone. We're here for you. I'm here for you." She finished, standing to hug Marina tightly.
Marina nodded, taking a deep, shuddering breath as she hugged her back. She wiped her face one last time, looking at the dark stains on the white towel. It had looked like ink, like the words she hadn't said. "Promise I won't take out any more rookies." She said with a light laugh, separating herself from the hug. "Let's go out there."
That night in October was the moment Marina's world stopped turning. It had been a raining; a cold, relentless October downpour that drummed against the windows like a warning. Ever since the surgery, Niya had become weirdly protective of her phone in a way that felt like a physical barrier. She started to take it to the bathroom, she slept with it under her pillow, she even tilted the screen away whenever Marina sat down next to her. Marina had tried to ignore it and tell herself it was just the frustration of the rehab she was going through but the distance was growing into a canyon.
Niya had limped into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, leaving her phone face-up on the marble island for the first time in week. As she disappeared into the pantry for a snack, the screen lit up. A notification from a name Marina didn't recognize - Jordyn - pulsed against the screen. Marina really did try her best to not look and be one of those girlfriends but she absolutely couldn't help herself.
"Thinking about you, Niya. I wish I was there to help you through the pain instead of her."
Marina's heart didn't just break; it was disintegrated and crushed. When Niya re-emerged back into the kitchen from the pantry, her eyes immediately locked onto her phone in Marina's hands and then they flicked to Marina's face. The guilt was instantaneous, written in the sharp intake of breath.
"Who is Jordyn, Niya?" Marina's voice was dangerously quiet, the pot of pasta water boiling being over her, hissing as it hit the burner. The noise reflected the sting she felt deep inside of her bones.
"Marina, put my phone down," Niya said, voice trembling as she reach for it.
" 'Instead of her'? Instead of me?" Marina picked the phone up, her thumb scrolling through the archive of a life she once didn't know Niya was living. " 'You're the only one who doesn't look at me like I'm broken' ... 'I feel alive when I get to talk to you'... Niya, you told this person you love the way she makes you feel. What about me? What about us? What about the years we spent building this? I mean, come on! What about the ring we put on each others finger?"
Marina felt the first of many hot tears track down her cheek, and then the flood erupted from her eyes. She had been wearing makeup, a rare effort to make herself feel pretty for a dinner they never ended up eating. Now, she could feel the makeup dissolving into her skin, mascara stinging in her eyes as it ran in jagged, dark streaks down her face. She didn't wipe them away but instead accepted the ink staining her skin, mirroring the mess she felt inside of her.
"You don't understand!" Niya exploded, her hand slamming against the counter with a force that made the dishes rattle and startled Marina. "I cannot look at you without seeing the injury! Every time you help me upstairs, every time you help me shower, every time you bring me my meds, and lay me into the bed, you're just a reminder that I'm now a shadow of who I was. Jordyn doesn't know the player, she doesn't see the limp. With her, I'm just Saniya."
"I am the one who stood by the bed while you cried at 3:00am because your leg was throbbing!" Marina screamed back, getting closer to Niya's face while hers was not red and blotchy. "I am the one who leaned how to wrap your knee so you could sleep better, I am the one who was up all hours of the night rubbing your back while you puked into the toilet, NOT HER! You think that was out of pity? I stayed because I love you, Niya. I don't care if you never touch another basketball again or play another minute, I just want to come home to you everyday. I wanted you healthy, I wanted us and you're here calling my love a burden? You're calling my care a reminder of your failure?" Marina choked out all in one breath, now gasping for air. It had felt like all the walls of her body were closing in at once and she couldn't do anything about it, not even breathe.
"Well, I don't want to be the version of me that needs you!" Niya's voice cracked, her face contorting into a mask of self-loathing. "Every time you look at me with those soft, worried eyes, I want to scream. I hate that I'm stuck here while you're out there living the life I was supposed to have. The career I was supposed to have. Jordyn makes me forget while you make me remember every single thing I lost. I feel like I'm suffocating under your 'support' Marina." Niya finished, throwing her hands up in defeat.
Marina felt like she was gonna vomit and pass out all while trying to remind herself how to breathe. "So you sought out a fresh start with some whore?" Marina stepped close, her voice now dropping into a broken, staggered whisper. "You gave her the vulnerability that you made me earn? I held you together when you were literally falling apart, and you reward me by finding someone else to give your heart to? You let her in while locking me out of our own relationship. You cheated on us, Niya, and that's nothing but a cowardly move." She finished still choking down sobs with blurry vision.
"I just needed to feel like I wasn't dying!" Niya now sobbed, sinking down into a kitchen chair, her head in her hands.
"And in the process, you killed me!" Marina cried out, the coldness settling in her bones behind her tears. She reached up, her fingers trembling and slid the flashy diamond ring off of her finger. It felt heavier than it ever had before this moment. She set it down on the island with a soft clink that sealed the deal in her judgement. "If I make you feel like you're dying, then I'm done. Go find your life with her because I refuse to be the person you blame for your misery." Marina said, storming into their shared room which once held all of the most intimate times of her life, grabbing a backpack and her immediate belonging and putting her drawers into a bag.
"Marina, please-" Niya reached out, following her into the room, watching her throw clothes into the bag and grabbing her keys. Her fingers went to brush Marina's arm, but Marina flinched away as if she'd been burned.
"Do not touch me. You want a fresh start? You got it, I'm done Niya. We are done, figure it out with that bitch." She said storming out into their living room where they once had weekly movie night dates and left out of their front door into her car. Immediately, she put her head onto the steering wheel and let the rest of the sobs and tears pour out as she dialed her moms number.
The rest of her week was a blur of exhaustion. Marina spent every extra hour she could in the gym, shooting until her fingers were blistered and her shooting arm was numb. She extended everything as late as she could to avoid going back to her apartment, she just could not sit in her gray apartment in silence and wait for the flashbacks to find her.
Friday night came and the news hit the locker room like a bomb.
"Did you see?" Rayah softly whispered to Marina, looking at her phone as they were getting ready to head out.
Marina didn't even have to ask what it was because she just knew by the way she felt the energy shift in the room before she even saw the screen : Saniya Rivers cleared for full contact; Expected to debut for New York double game against old team Connecticut on opening weekend. The room was dead silent at this point with what felt like all eyes on her.
Marina stayed seated on the bench with her hands frozen on the laces of her sneakers. The first time she would have to face Niya would be in front of 8 thousand fans on opening weekend with Niya having a different jersey on her back and a different look in her eyes.
"Marina?" Lindsay Allen had asked softly, emerging from her locker.
Marina didn't look up at all, she just pulled her laces tight; definitely tighter than they needed to be. "I hope she's ready." Marina said, her voice sounding of cold iron. "Because I've been practicing." This was only a half truth. Yes, Marina had been practicing but less practice on how to brat Niya and more practice of how in the hell is she gonna toe to toe with her ex-fiancé?
The weeks leading up to opening night had been a blur of simulated violence on the court and a deafening, ringing silence off of the court. Marina had been living in a state of hyper-focus that bordered on clinical intervention. She was always the first one in the gym in the mornings and the last to leave in the afternoon, her body a machine of nothing but muscle and resentment.
The day before their double opening game against New York, the team decided to have an open practice and let reporters come and see as well as film the new rookies showcase some skills and shed some light on them. As Marina stepped on the court though, she felt the eyes of the media burn through her skin. They were vultures circling the "Rivers-Mabrey" story as if it were carrion. During a break, a reporter had come up to her, the brightness of the handheld light behind the camera, partially blinding Marina decided to accept the reporter because sooner or later, she knew she had to do this.
"Marina, how does it feel to know your first game back is against ex team member, Saniya Rivers?" A local news reporter for a sports blog asked, her pen poised.
Depp Breath In. Marina didn't blink or show any expression on her face. "It's just another game on our schedule honestly. You know, we're very focused on our team chemistry and our goals for this season, I know I'm very focused on helping my rookies navigate such a big jump." Deep Breath Out. She ended her sentence with a head nod, signaling she was finished.
"But Marina, fans all over social media are calling this a 'Heartbreak Derby'. Do you think the personal history between you guys will affect your defense at all?" The reporter continued on. Jeez, talk about salt on a wound.
Marina had leaned closer to the microphone now, her voice dropping a little lower. "My defense doesn't have emotions or a heart. I have a job to do, I have fans to make proud, so all I'm doing is my job and Saniya being in a different jersey just means that she's an opponent now." Marina finished, cringing inside at the word Saniya. She thanked the reporter and decided to not take any more questions.
Back in her apartment, her sad and gray walls were finally getting covered. She had bought a single, large abstract painting with hints of messy blues and blacks all spread around it. The night before the game, she found a stray piece of paper stuck to the bottom of a kitchen moving box. It was a grocery list in Niya's messy, looping handwriting. Eggs, Almond milk, Peanut butter (the crunchy kind!), Ri's favorite chocolate syrup. It must have been tossed in when Niya paid the movers to pack up their old apartment.
Marina slumped to the cold floorboards of her kitchen and just stared at the paper until the words had blurred into smudges. She thought about the messages, and how she got traded for a distraction. She crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it directly into the trash can but the ghost of the note had stayed in the kitchen all night. The next morning, Marina dragged through her entire morning routine, she had zero energy and was not looking forward to the game today.
In the Mohegan Sun Arena, she noted that the air was electric but for her it felt like oxygen deprived static. She stood in the tunnel, the concrete walls felt like they were pressing in on her. She was wearing a sleek, fully pink suit, her hair slicked back into a bun with her face a mask of unbothered professionalism. She had spent an hour in the bathroom after having her pre game pictures taken, making sure her jersey looked right, meticulously checking everything and making sure she looked like she was doing okay.
"Hey Marina, you need to be out there, they're waiting on you." Their floor manager, Brian, had called out.
Marina stepped onto the court and into the light, the roar was a physical wave. She walked out into the shootout and didn't look for the number she used to love for the first time in a long time. She immediately went over to the team huddle and listened over as Lindsay was going over the defensive scouting report. "When Rivers has the ball, we have to show high. Do not let her get comfortable or think she can get comfortable. She's coming off of a major injury which means she's going to be tentative on her left side; exploit it when you notice it." Lindsay finished, everyone agreed and went to warm up after a couple more minutes.
Exploit it. The words felt like acid being shoved down her throat, she felt like she was gonna be sick. Marina knew every single weakness of Niya's left knew. She was the one who helped build the strength back into that leg and now she was being told to exploit the pain in it when needed. Whew.
Warm-ups were a complete blur and then she saw her. Across the court, she was stretching near the bench. She looked stronger, better, with her movements fluid. For the tiniest split of a second, their eyes accidentally met. Marina felt her world stop with only Niya in it, her eyes wide and full of a complicated, unreadable look. Marina had to force herself to look away, remembering the basketball in her hands and burying a three-pointer with a snap of her wrist that felt like a slap.
This game was a full on war. It was the start of the second quarter with the score 26-24 and Connecticut with the lead. They had finally matched one-on-one. Marina met Saniya up at half-court as she got low, with the chirp of sneakers below her. She could smell her perfume and immediately registered it was one she had bought for her last birthday. It was an assault to her sense of smell.
"You look good, Ri," Saniya whispered, her voice barely audible to anyone else.
"Don't call me that," Marina hissed back. "Guard the ball."
Niya attempted to drive, but Marina shut her down with her chest hitting Niya's shoulder. A hard, physical check with their limbs now intertwined in a way that felt sickeningly familiar. Marina stripped the ball and Connecticut called a timeout.
By the time the third quarter came, Marina was tired but so pumped. The score was now 44-46 with New York in the lead and this was the breaking point of the game. Niya received the ball at the top of the key and she a gap and decided to drive hard. It was explosive and too confident. Marina was rotating to try and stop her when she saw Niya plant her left foot on the jump.
A sharp, sickening, pop echoed through the entire arena.
Niya cried out in pain as she went buckled down on the court. Her hands instantly went to her knee as her face was nothing but a mask of pure agony. Marina froze as she watched the training staff rush out to her side. She watched as the stretcher was the next thing to come out as she couldn't move or do anything. Niya's eyes scanned the crowd until the locked in and found Marina.
"Marina," she mouthed out making Marina feel helpless even though she had no obligation and it wasn't her job anymore to make sure she was okay.
The rest of the game was nowhere near as energetic as it had once been. It was pretty much a ghost play with New York still putting up a good fight but their minds elsewhere. Connecticut won the game 71-64 but the locker room was a tomb. Marina trudged to the showers where her mind was completely unfocused. All she could think about was Niya as she washed out her hair. Getting dressed, Marina decided she was gonna drive to the hospital where all the Sun athletes were treated.
Only one issue is that she had no information if that's where she even was. Oh well, guess I'll find out. As she parked in the hospital parking lot, her engine idling, she felt uneasy. Should she be doing this? Is it really time to move on? Marina didn't have time to go back and forth on the ethics of right and wrong at this moment. Her phone was blowing up with messages from her family group chat, tags from social media, etc.. One message had stuck out specifically. Lindsay : University Health, Room 402. Don't ask how I know, I know you need to know. I get it, Marina.
If she could kiss Lindsay on the lips right now, she would.
She didn't even respond to her message but she did dial the hospital number.
"University Health, how can I direct your call tonight?" The older lady on the other end of the line rasped/
"Hi!.." She said way too enthusiastically. Breathe Marina. "Hi, I'm calling for a status update on my fiancée.."
"What's her name?" The old lady responded, sucking a breath in.
"Um.. Saniya Rivers." Marina said, voice starting to shake. The lie felt like it was caught in her throat.
"One moment.." The lady started, "I'll transfer you to room 402." She finished, her end of the line clicking before Marina even had the chance to say thank you.
The new line rang one, and then twice, and finally on it's third ring right when Marina felt hopeless and was about to hang up. It connected. "Hello?" Niya's voice was tiny and fragile.
Marina hadn't really planned out in her head what she was going to say once she picked up, her mouth was open but no words were physically able to come out.
"Helllooo?" Niya said again, this time sounding a little more frustrated.
"Niya?" Marina had managed to whisper out.
The silence on the other end was now heavy, filled with the steady beeping of the heart monitor in the background now losing it's rhythm. "Marina?" Niya said, almost as a gasp.
Marina closed her eyes, leaning her head against the cold glass of her car window. What am I doing? She thought to herself as she felt an unwanted tear escape from her eye, the salt of it stinging her skin. "I'm coming up, Niya." She whispered almost inaudibly. "I'm coming up." She said stronger this time, using the back of her hand to wipe the tear away and gather her belongings.
"Ri-" Niya started in protest but the line clicked repeatedly as Marina hung up the call and got out of her car.