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“Daddy saw me!” Hannah’s voice pulls me back, her face lit up like Christmas morning.

“Yeah, he did,” I say, forcing a smile.

But Matty isn’t just looking at her. He’s also looking at me, and the weight of his gaze presses down like a boulder.

I should have stayed home and told Hannah no, because seeing him now reminds me of everything I’ll never have again.

I thought it had been enough time, that all these months spent in therapy would make this easier, but it’ll never be easy with Matty again.

As his teammates surround him, celebrating his win, I feel lost at sea, drifting further from harbor.

I can’t keep doing this to myself.

Turning to Wayne, I fight to keep my voice from shaking. “I’m going to, uh, head out now.”

Hannah instantly deflates, turning to me with big, sad eyes that crush the last functioning pieces of my already broken heart. “You’re leaving, Fungus? But you just got here.”

I exhale slowly, pulling her into a tight hug, burying my face in her messy hair. It smells like sunscreen and bubblegum. “I know, Creetch. But I’m tired.”

So. Fucking. Tired.

She clings to me desperately, and I meet Wayne’s gaze over her head. His bushy brows are drawn tight, his expression pinched with concern. He opens his mouth, about to speak, but the stadium explodes into cheers before he gets a chance.

We turn toward the field, the noise swallowing Wayne’s words. Matty’s face shines under the flickering lights on the massive screen above the stands for the half-time report. His blue eyes are bright, strands of sweaty blond hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed from exertion. So goddamn beautiful it hurts to look.

A reporter stands next to him, shoving a microphone in his face. Her voice echoes around the field, finally audible as the crowd quiets slightly. “Matthew, incredible game so far! The fans are going wild. What’s the first thing on your mind after a performance like that?”

Matty laughs, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. “To be honest, I feel unstoppable tonight, and it’s all because of someone watching in the crowd.”

The reporter’s brows jump as whispers roll through the stands. “Oh? Do tell.”

He nods, his smile faltering a little. “Yeah. There’s this person I’ve known my whole life, they’ve always been there for me, even when I didn’t deserve it. They’re my best friend, and... I’m in love with them. I just hope they know it.”

My heart lurches as Wayne stiffens beside me, his mouth tightening into a line as his eyes dart between me and the screen. Hannah shifts in my arms, glancing up at me in confusion, but I can’t look at her. I can’t look anywhere except at Matty, who stares into the camera like he’s speaking directly to me.

But the words… they don’t feel like enough. Not when the crowd cheers louder, drowning out their significance. Not when he doesn’t say my name. Not when it feels like he’s still hiding behind his confession.

Because that’s what it is. A half-truth. A coward’s way out.

And I deserve better than that.

Hannah hugs me tighter as Matty’s image fades from the screen, and Wayne touches my arm. “Xed, you sure you’re alright?”

I nod stiffly, though my chest feels hollow. “Yeah. Fine.”

But I’m not. Not even close.

Nothing is fucking fine.

Chapter forty-two

Me:

Hey. Dad says you left at half-time, did you see it? What I said?

Tugging at my hair, I pace the hotel room, my eyes glued to the unanswered message on my phone. It’s been over an hour since I sent it, and Xed has read it, but he’s not replying.

“Sit down, son,” Dad says from the table, his tone tired. Hannah is asleep in the other room, blissfully unaware of my meltdown. “You’re going to make yourself sick.”