I didn't plan to tell her yet.
Not like that. Honestly I had forgotten about it.
But once the word "international" is out there, there's no taking it back.
Autumn walks beside me along the beach, quiet in a way that tells me she's processing something.
"You compete a lot?" she asks finally.
"Sometimes."
"You said surfing was just something you liked."
"It is."
"Luca."
I sigh.
"Okay. I compete. Often."
"How serious is it?"
"Pretty serious."
She stops walking.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because it's not a guarantee."
"What isn't?"
"The travel. If I win."
The word hangs there.
"Travel where?"
"Europe mostly," I admit. "Australia sometimes."
Her eyes widen slightly.
"You'd leave?"
"Only if I qualified."
"And if you do?"
I look out at the waves rolling toward shore.
"Then yeah."
The truth is I've been working toward that opportunity for years. For a long time, it was the one good thing going for me.
But saying it out loud now feels different.
Because now there's her.
Autumn studies me for a long moment.
Then she nods slowly.
"That's amazing."
I blink.
"You're not mad?"
"Why would I be?"
"I don't know."
She shrugs.
"You're talented, Luca. This sounds like an amazing opportunity."
Her voice softens.
"You should chase that."
Those words stay with me long after we leave the beach.
But so does something else.
The small flicker of uncertainty I saw in her eyes.