Chapter six

A'ja Wilson pov

The Arena was packed tonight, the crowd buzzing with anticipation. Our matchups against Washington were always intense, but with the addition of Paige Bueckers to their roster this season, it felt like even more eyes were on us than usual. I was doing my usual pregame stretches, letting my mind settle into game mode, when I caught sight of Angel's brother Julian rushing through the tunnel, carrying a squirming Halo.

"TeTe!" Halo called out when she spotted me. I couldn't help but laugh at her outfit situation – she was wearing a Mystics jersey that was clearly too big for her tiny frame, with 'BUECKERS' emblazoned across the back. The sight immediately made me think about everything Angel had confided in me about Paige a few weeks ago. Funny how life works sometimes.

"Juju, what's going on with this fit?" I asked, already picturing the social media storm this would cause. The WNBA Twitter detectives were about to have a field day. I grabbed her from his hands and kissed her cheeks before passing her back.

He looked exasperated, bouncing Halo on his hip. "Listen, she spilled apple juice all over her Vegas jersey in the car. The team shop only had Mystics gear, and this was the smallest size they had." He shook his head, adjusting Halo's braids that were coming loose. "Jesus child. You look like a struggling single father," I teased as he gave me the straightest face."I feel like one too. I tried to find anything else, but you know how she gets when she's wet and uncomfortable. And you know Halo – once she starts crying, it's over."

"She really is her mama's child," I laughed, remembering all the times Angel had thrown similar fits over being uncomfortable. "Speaking of mama..."

Angel was approaching from the court, still dripping sweat from warmups. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw what her daughter was wearing, but her reaction wasn't what I expected. Instead of the explosion I anticipated, there was something softer in her expression, almost nostalgic.

"Juju..." Angel started, but there was more amusement than anger in her voice. "Of all the jerseys?"

"What? It was either this or let her cry about being wet. Plus it was the cheapest option they had," Julian defended himself. "You know I'm just a broke college student. Not all of us got that Angel Reese money yet."

"You stay having excuses," Angel teased, reaching for Halo who immediately started playing with her mom's edges. "But baby girl, really? You had to spill juice today?"

Jackie walked by, doing a double-take at Halo's jersey. "Oh, this is too good," she laughed, pulling out her phone. "This is definitely going in the team chat."

Before Angel could protest, KK jogged over, her eyes widening at the scene. Being Paige's former teammate at UConn, she was one of the few who'd picked up on Paige's lingering feelings for Angel, though she didn't know about their past. I'd noticed how KK would sometimes watch their interactions during games, like she was trying to piece together a puzzle.

"Oh my god," KK whispered to me, trying not to laugh. "P is gonna love this."

As if on cue, Paige emerged from the Mystics' huddle, her pregame shooting routine interrupted by the commotion. She did a visible double-take when she spotted Halo, that signature smirk spreading across her face as she made her way over. I watched Angel's body language shift ever so slightly – a subtle tension that probably only I noticed.

"Now this," Paige said, gesturing to Halo's jersey, "is what I call good taste in fashion."

Angel shook her head, but I caught the slight smile she tried to hide. The same smile I'd seen in old photos from their college days that sometimes popped up on my timeline. "She ain't have a choice. It was this or nothing."

"Nothing wrong with starting them young on the right team," Paige teased, reaching for Halo who immediately went to her arms. The ease with which Halo went to Paige spoke volumes – clearly, their connection hadn't faded despite everything. "Hey pretty girl. Can I get a picture? This is too good."

"Really, P?" Angel said, but there was no resistance in her voice. If anything, there was a softness there, one that made me wonder how many quiet moments like this they'd shared before.

"Come on, it's for the memories," Paige insisted, already posing with Halo, who was throwing up peace signs like her mama. "Plus, you know this is gonna break basketball Twitter. Might as well control the narrative."

I watched the interaction carefully, noting how Angel's eyes followed Paige's movements, how her usual sharp edges seemed to soften just slightly. There was history there, wrapped up in uncertainty and unspoken questions. Being the only one who knew about their past made me see everything differently – the lingering looks, the way they gravitated toward each other despite themselves.

"Your daughter really said 'team Bueckers,' huh?" Paige continued, but her tone was gentle, almost nostalgic. "Guess she got good taste like her mama." She whispered, but I still caught it. Being in between the two of them.

Angel rolled her eyes, but I caught that slight flush in her cheeks. "You stay doing too much," she said, but there was an underlying warmth there. "Okay Juju, take her to the seats please, before she get to cutting up."

"Wait," Paige said, still holding Halo. "Let me fix her hair real quick. These braids are coming loose."

What happened next caught me off guard. Paige, with a familiarity that spoke volumes, started gently fixing Halo's braids, her fingers moving with practiced ease. Angel watched, something complicated playing across her face – like she was remembering moments I wasn't supposed to know about.

"You remember how," Angel said murmured but it was basically inaudible, probably not meaning to say it out loud.

Paige's hands stilled for just a moment before continuing. "There you go little mama," she said, just as quietly.

KK nudged me again, whispering, "I swear P is in love with her. She used to talk about Angel all the time at UConn, even after... she was pregnant with halo."

If she only knew the half of it. I'd seen enough to know this wasn't one-sided, but Angel was still figuring things out for herself. It couldn't be easy, trying to understand your feelings while the whole world was watching, while you're still trying to understand yourself.

"Alright, let's lock in," I called out, sensing Angel needed the save. "We got a game to play. Julian, get this little princess to her seat before she becomes the whole pregame show."

The game itself was a masterclass in competitive basketball. From the opening tip, you could feel the intensity in the air. Washington's offense was running smooth, with Paige orchestrating plays like she'd been in the league for years instead of months.

Early in the first quarter, Paige caught Angel on a switch. Their one-on-one matchup had the crowd on their feet – Paige's tight handles against Angel's defensive prowess. It ended with Paige hitting a step-back three, and the smile she flashed Angel's way carried echoes of old memories.

But Angel answered right back the next possession, driving baseline and finishing with a reverse layup that had even the Mystics fans gasping. As she ran back on defense, I saw her glance at Paige, a silent challenge in her eyes.

During a timeout in the third quarter, I overheard Paige say something that only Angel and I could hear: "Still the prettiest four league."

Angel's response was barely audible, but I caught it: "stop flirting with me Madison." The exchange was charged with something that wasn't quite flirtation but definitely wasn't just friendly competition.

Throughout the game, I kept catching glimpses of Angel watching Paige when she thought no one was looking. Not with anger or frustration, but with something more complicated – like she was trying to solve a puzzle she wasn't sure she wanted to figure out.

We ended up winning by three, thanks to a clutch steal from Angel on – who else – Paige in the final seconds. After the buzzer, Paige was the first to congratulate her, pulling her into a quick hug that lingered just a beat too long.

"Good game, Barbie," Paige said, using the nickname that made Angel's expression shift just slightly.

"Not so bad yourself, buckets," Angel replied, that half-smile playing at her lips again.

Later, as we were cooling down, Paige came over with Halo on her hip, the oversized Bueckers jersey now almost falling off one shoulder.

"Think I could keep her?" Paige joked, making Halo giggle. "She's clearly already team Paige."

"In your dreams, P," Angel shot back, but I noticed how her eyes softened watching them together. There was something both beautiful and painful about watching them like this – seeing what could have been, what might still be, all wrapped up in uncertainty and timing.

That night, as expected, basketball social media exploded when Paige posted on Instagram. It was a carousel post – the first picture showed her with Halo in her jersey watching the game.

Liked by Washmystics and 12,383 othersPaigebueckers No dub, but My favorite fan came through today 💙 (Sorry @angelreese5, she loves Paigey more) #GoStics

Angel had commented: "She just needed a shirt 🙄 don't get too excited"To which Paige replied: "@angelreese 5 whatever helps you sleep at night 😌"

Back at the hotel, Angel ended up in my room as usual, sprawled across my bed while I tried to watch film. She was quiet, scrolling through her phone, pausing every now and then on that third picture Paige had posted.

"You know," I started carefully, "it's okay if things are complicated sometimes."

She was quiet for a moment, then: "I just don't know what I'm feeling half the time. Like, is it real? Was it real? Or was it just..." she trailed off, searching for words. "I mean, I love Jalen, I do. But sometimes when I'm around her, it's like... I can't explain it. And then seeing her with Halo today..."

"You don't have to have it all figured out," I assured her. "Some things take time. And some feelings... they're not always either-or. They can be both-and."

"Yeah," she sighed, then smiled slightly. "She knew how to do Halo's hair. From when... you know."

"I saw that," I said softly, understanding the weight of that small detail.

We fell into comfortable silence after that, but I could tell Angel was deep in thought. Sometimes the hardest games we play aren't on the court – they're the ones in our hearts, when we're trying to understand ourselves and what we want.

"A?" Angel's voice was quiet.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for never pushing me to talk about it. For just... letting me figure it out."

I smiled, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "That's what family's for, baby girl. No timeline, no pressure. Just love."

Later that night, I noticed Angel had finally liked Paige's Instagram post, adding another comment: "🤍"

Simple, but somehow it said everything that needed to be said for now. Some stories don't need an ending right away. Sometimes they just need space to unfold, to breathe, to become whatever they're meant to be.

"Time will tell," I thought, watching Angel finally drift off to sleep, her phone still open to that old picture of her and Paige, young and unguarded, before life got complicated. "Time will tell."