“Honey, I’m sorry.” I lean over, kissing any part of her I can reach—her hand, her arm, her shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she murmurs.
“It’s not. It’s not okay. It is my fault. All of this…” I close my eyes, dizzy with guilt. “I promised you I’d take care of you, and I didn’t. I caused this.”
She sniffs but doesn’t disagree. She clears her throat and blinks a few times before lifting her head, focusing her winter eyes on Malcom. “What do we do?”
“We start by being clear-eyed about what is going on. I know it’s hard to hear, but you should know exactly what we’re dealing with so you can make your own decisions.”
I’m not sure he’s alluding to her making a decision about our relationship or if that’s my own insecurities acting up, but my skin heats. “You don’t need to do anything,” I tell her, weaving my fingers with hers. “This isn’t your problem to fix. It’s mine.”
“But I’m collateral damage.”
And her words makes my heart splinter into a million pieces.
I can’t argue with her point. I threw the bomb and took her out as well.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, then look to Malcolm, needing to fix this.HopingI can fix this. “What’s the plan?”
He sits up straighter, tugging on the lapel of his suit jacket, then digs out an iPad from inside his bag. He spends a few moments finding whatever it is he needs and then explains, “The organization is going to put out a statement.” He hands it to me to read, three short sentences about tensions being high in the locker room, but that everyone on the team is focused on winning the conference and then the national championship. Essentially saying, there is nothing to see here. “I’ve also drafted something for you to post, but it’s up to you how personal you want to make it. Now that I know the root cause.”
I scroll down to read his—my—statement, a bland explanation of the situation basically echoing the team’s lines.
“You want me to post this?”
He nods. “And you’ll need to answer a few questions at the press call.”
I take off my glasses to rub at my eyes. “Okay. I’ll do whatever you need me to.”
He makes a curious sound. “That was easy. I came here prepared for a fight.”
I readjust my glasses on my nose and face Nadine. She still won’t look at me.Sheis my fight. She is the reason I fight. But right now, I’m not sure it’s enough.
I’m not sureIam enough.
And with that fear comes all of my shields. I smirk at Malcolm. “So that’s it? This could have been an email.”
He rolls his eyes, over my bullshit.
But before he can continue, Nadine stands, collects her iPad, tucks her loose hair behind her ear, then offers Malcolm a smile. “Thanks for coming, but I’m going to…”
She trails off and leaves the room without another word, my heart chasing after her. I watch her until she’s out of sight and then stare at the empty space some more.
She is disappointed.
I am a disappointment.
Malcolm heaves a sigh. “Guess we’re back to where we started. Everyone thinking you’re making this all about you.”
He’s not wrong.
CHAPTER 32
CAMDEN
We’reminutes away from our first game of the conference play-offs, and I haven’t felt so unsure about stepping on the field since my rookie year. Outside of calling plays at practice, Erik hasn’t spoken to me directly since our confrontation two weeks ago, and although Nadine has tried to act as if she’s fine, she isn’t. She’s kept her chin up, put on a brave face, but I know all this has gotten to her. She’s worried her graduate school applications will be affected by the stories on the internet, and she doesn’t have many people to talk to who can understand her position. I overheard her on the phone with Molly, but until Erik and I can work past this, they’re both stuck in opposite corners. Same goes for the entire Rivera family, seemingly all at a loss for how to overcome the rift between Nadine and Erik.
In a last-ditch effort not to solve the problem but at least win this fucking game, I approach Erik in the locker room. “Hey, we need to talk.”
