“Okay.” Now it was my turn to fold my hands together. I placed them carefully on my lap. “Why would she think y’all were still dating?”
“I don’t know. I think she’s crazy.” Aaron ran a hand through his hair, disturbing the carefully coiffed part. “Women get that way around pro athletes, you know?”
“If it’s not a big deal, why are you telling me?”
“Sloane thought you should know.”
I look over his shoulder to the producer hovering behind the cameraman.
“There’s an article coming out,” she said. “I think you should read it.”
Aaron tensed as she handed me an iPad.
I caught sight of myself in the mirror. Even with my carefully applied spray tan, the color had drained from my face.
For the first few seconds, I didn’t even really see the screen in front of me. A sharp whine started in my ears, and the shapes of the letters stopped making sense, the lines and curves that I’d been able to read for two decades splintering apart.
I blinked and forced myself to focus. I knew that the cameras were zoomed in, desperate to catch my reaction, but in that moment, I didn’t want to give them anything. I pulled in a deep breath and tried to project cool serenity.
The image on the screen was a screenshot, but I was able to zoom in to see the words. Some girl named Cara was saying she and Aaronhad been together for a year. There were quotes from this girl Cara’s friends confirming their relationship. There were multiple photos of them together. One where he was kissing her on the cheek and one at a major golf tournament. Then there was a photo that made me gasp. My calm exterior shattered. In it, he was wearing a shirt I bought for him that first weekend we were in Cabo.
“This photo is from after we got engaged.”
“I’d gone to break things off with her,” he said, quickly.
“If it wasn’t serious, why did you need to break things off with her?”
“It wasn’t. But I wanted a clean slate for us. I know how it looks—”
The high-pitched whine crested into one long scream and the snapped into silence. “It looks like you were lying to me.”
“I wasn’t—” he started, but I didn’t let him finish.
“Get out.”
“Babe, it’s not serious. She’s nobody.”
“We’re over.” My voice shook, but my hands were steady on Sloane’s iPad.
They escorted Aaron out, and ten million people watched me burst into tears.
28
WHENILEAVECAMPBennet, the sun is just starting to come up, but the rain is still chucking down, obscuring its weak light. The fact that Nate insisted I take his raincoat just rubs salt in the wound—this small gesture of decency even after our blowup fight. The path back to the house is muddy and slippery. If the weather doesn’t let up soon, it’s going to cause a major problem for tomorrow’s backyard wedding.Good, I think. Tear it all down. Wash it all away. There’s no such thing as fairy tales.
I check my reflection in the porch window before entering the house. My hair is damp and tangled, makeup smudged under my eyes. Nate’s jacket hangs to my knees. It looks a lot like a walk of shame. Someone is sure to ask me what happened last night. To put two and two together when they remember I left the bar early with Nate.
And I’m surprised to find I don’t really care.
Stepping from the porch into the kitchen, I brace myself for a lecture from my mom about inappropriate behavior under her roof, but the room is empty.
The kids are shrieking in the family room, but unlike the happy shouts that I’ve grown used to, these are met with a yell from my dad to quiet down.
I make my way toward my “room,” but stop when I hear sharp voices coming from the direction of Cooper’s. A few moments later, Cara huffs out of Cooper’s room. I hear the blue bathroom door slam.
Now I’m the one wondering:What the hell happened?
I find Linney on the couch scrolling her phone, William beside her, eyes glued to an episode ofSpider-Man.
