The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 32

Garrison nodded. "Understood."

*

Early one morning a few days later, Sloane Taylor stepped off a bus and walked up to a set of iron gates.

This was the Metropolitan Aquatics Center. The security guard at the booth was a young stranger wearing glasses, and it suddenly dawned on Sloane that she hadn't set foot here in five years. The distinct smell of chlorine mixed with the damp air washed over her, instantly awakening memories buried deep within her muscles.

She felt a long-lost sense of relaxation and joy.

Following her memory, she walked up the worn stairs to an office on the top floor. The door was slightly ajar, and Sloane tapped lightly on the wood.

"Coach Hayes, are you in?"

Inside the room, a man nearing fifty was bent over, sorting through boxes of files. The whiteboard behind him was plastered with unfamiliar maps and data charts.

Quentin Hayes looked up at the sound, adjusted his glasses, and stared blankly for a few seconds before recognizing the woman in front of him. "Are you... Sloane?"

Sloane looked at her coach, who had gained a few wrinkles around his eyes but still looked incredibly sharp. She smiled and walked in.

"It's me, Coach. Sloane Taylor, Class of 20xx. Do you remember me?"

"How could I forget? You were my best student!" Quentin hastily set down his files and ushered her in. "Sit, sit, come on in!"

Sloane stepped inside and sat across from him. "Coach, don't tease me."

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