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Did she think I’d never find out?
I get the fact Emmerson made her own choice, and she could have said no to everyone giving her their take on our relationship. Or even better, she could have confided in me. Even so, I still don’t believe she’s entirely to blame, and it’s got nothing to do with her being on a pedestal. We were both so young; we both wanted to please each other and do the right thing by our parents. There was so much at stake with my recruitment into the NHL.
She certainly had more guts than me. She actually went through with it with some kind of crazy reasoning that she was giving me a better life? I wonder what she thought for herself in the process? I guess because I didn’t know the facts, I never really knew that she had been suffering all along too.
When she comes back, we order coffee but skip dessert. I’m definitely a world away from being able to eat anything else tonight.
“This has been some night,” she says when it’s been silent a while. She’s holding the coffee cup between her hands.
“It’s very different to how I expected things to go,” I admit.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you,” she says earnestly. “I made a huge mistake, I know that.”
I nod and sip my coffee. I think I’m done talking about it tonight.
I don’t know what to think or make out of any of it.
I’m going to need some serious therapy after this.
When we walk out of the restaurant, I marvel at how we managed to escape too much attention tonight… that is, until we step outside, and I see a couple of photographers.
I spoke too soon.
I swear under my breath.
“Just keep walking to your car,” I say quietly to Em. I know how to deal with these guys by now.
“Hey, Taylor,” the nerdy one from the Seattle Sports One magazine says, adjusting his glasses.
“Corky.” I nod with a smile that looks nor feels genuine. I feel like ripping the camera out of his fucking hands. As geeky as he might look, and as much as he’s doing a job, following people gets fucking old real quick.
“Pete.” I nod to the other guy from the Seattle Times. He’s all right, I guess. At least they’ve never written shit about me.
I reach for my wallet and pull out some hundred-dollar bills, wondering how much this is gonna cost me.
“What will it take to leave an old friend of mine out of the press tonight?”
They both look at each other.
“Bribery is what you’d call unethical,” Corky tells me, pushing his glasses up.
I eye him levelly. “Don’t be a shithead, just take some extra cash, and give me some peace for tonight.”
“Fine.” He relents pretty quickly, and that almost makes me smile.
I look at Pete. “What’s your poison?”
“Ring-side seats tomorrow.”
“Fuck’s sake, you guys drive a hard bargain.”
“You asked.” Pete shrugs.
“Ooh… me too,” Corky chimes, pushing his glasses up.
I guess I did ask for it. “Fine, whatever. I’ll send them to your offices in the morning.”
I fling a couple of bills at them for good measure and take off after Emmerson.
