He blinks, confused. “Right…”
“So, I don’t have to be nice to you.” She leans in slightly, her voice dropping any sign of being friendly. “And I won’t be if you don’t back the fuck up right now.”
Matt laughs awkwardly, but I can see his jaw tighten as he tries to act like she hasn’t hit a nerve.
“Pips, let’s go find our seats,” I say, already pulling her away. She falls in step behind me, casually walking out of the locker room like she didn’t just verbally assassinate him.
I glance back over my shoulder, but my eyes find Oliver, not Matt.
He’s standing there, surrounded by his teammates, but somehow completely apart. His eyes are locked on me like I’m gravity.
My stomach flips, but I look away before I do something reckless—like go back.
Pippa and I settle into our usual seats, just a few rows behind the team. The crowd buzzes around us, the whole stadium humming with anticipation. It’s cold outside, but my skin is warm with leftover tension from the interaction with Matt.
I watch as he makes his way toward the bench with his crew. Pippa’s eyes follow, and she lets out a breath like she’s been holding it in since the incident in the locker room.
“God, he’s such a fucking asshole,” she says, dragging out every syllable with deliberate venom.
I smirk. “Damn. And I thought you really liked him.”
“I don’t know what you ever saw in him,” she says, shaking her head. “Seriously, Addison. He’s the biggest tosser I’ve ever met in my life.”
“I didn’t see it. Not at first.” I exhale, shifting in my seat. “When we first met, he was charming. He sent flowers and gifts, showered me with endless compliments. He paid attention. At least I thought he did. It didn’t all shift at once, you know? It was gradual—little things you don’t notice individually until they add up and become too heavy to ignore. He chipped away at me piece by piece. It started with my friends, but eventually, it was just every special thing about me—my humor, my intelligence, and eventually, even my voice.” I turn and look at her. “By the time he showed me who he really was, there was no one left to remind me I deserved better.”
Pippa blinks hard. “Addison…”
“Some of that is on me, Pips.” I shrug, a bitter laugh escaping me. “I let it happen. I accepted it. I believed if I was better, if I just became what he wanted of me, then he’d stop hurting me. I thought I could fix it, and once I realized I couldn’t, I was just too deep to crawl out.”
“You are not at fault,” she says fiercely. “He isolated you. He manipulated you. You’re not weak for staying with him. You’re strong for surviving him.”
I nod, struggling to hold back tears. “Thanks, Pippa.”
“And now look at you,” she says, gesturing toward the pitch. “You’re here now. You’re doing an incredible job, you’re thriving, and he’s just a tiny man who had and fumbled the great Addison Scott.”
I let out a wet laugh. “You’re the best.”
She shrugs, grinning. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”
The whistle blows, and the game explodes to life.
Rockford plays straight out of the gate with a fast, aggressive fire. The red and blue stripes of their kits blur as they sprint up and down the pitch. Within the first five minutes, Sebastian has scored and entertained the crowd with his corner flag kicking celebrations.
The heat of cheering and chanting is enough to keep me warm on this chilly December afternoon.
“Jesus,” Pippa mutters, eyes wide. “They’re fantastic today.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “This is insane.”
“Or maybe their captain gave them a strong pre-match speech,” she says pointedly, glancing sideways at me.
“What are you talking about?” I ask. I keep my eyes forward, but I canfeelher looking at me.
“Seriously, Addison?” Pippa laughs and grows quiet. “If I hadn’t said something to Matt earlier I think Oliver was a few seconds away from throwing him through a brick wall.”
“What? No, he wasn’t.” My voice lifts up an octave as I try to hide the fact that my stomach flipped when she said that. Deep down, I like the idea of Oliver feeling protective of me.
She hums. “Mhmm.”
