Grant had never let her do that.
And now, given all she knew, she wondered if all of their evenings out had been a way for him to keep things superficial, not giving them much time to dig into serious conversations or make space for them to be vulnerable with one another.
On top of it all, going out with him often had made it feel even more unlikely that he was carrying on an affair, not that she’d really given it much thought. It was just another data point that likely flitted through the back of her mind over the years, that if he had been up to something, he’d have wanted to squirrel her away in the apartment, away from prying eyes or someone who could catch them.
It’d been well orchestrated, so much so that Sydney had never consciously thought about the possibility at the time. It was only in retrospect, when she understood the full extent of Grant’s duplicity, that she saw her former life through a clearer lens.
“No one wants to feel like a means to an end,” Sydney continued. Their eyes connected before they both looked away.
Maybe it made Sydney’s stomach churn uncomfortably because, on some level, that’s what she and Reese were doing to one another, the only difference being they both knew the score.
“He’s going to be insufferable this weekend,” Reese said.
“Which one?” Sydney asked honestly.
Reese laughed. “Both, I’m sure, but Grant seems to have his tail between his legs most of the time when my dad and Stan are around.”
Sydney crossed her fingers. “Here’s to hoping that streak continues.”
“Is this weird for you?” Reese asked, meeting Sydney’s gaze for a second before she returned her attention to the road. “We didn’t really talk about it after the party.”
Sydney chewed on her lip, considering the question. “I’mdefinitely thinking about things differently than I used to, especially where Grant and I were concerned.”
“Are you finding that path forward?” Reese asked, referencing their conversation from the previous weekend, the one in which Sydney had thought she needed answers, but now was looking for a way to move on.
“One step forward, two steps back,” Sydney lamented. “I just keep thinking I should have known, but the more I think about it, there’s still nothing that jumps out and screams, ‘He was cheating on you.’”
They’d reached Boston, and Reese eased the car onto the highway and accelerated so they could get around the city quickly. “Like what?”
Sydney pretended to be interested in a piece of lint on her navy-colored linen pants.
She tried to hide the vulnerability in her tone, but she knew the crack in her voice spoke volumes. “He’d come to some of my matches, when he could fit them into his schedule, and he’d always sit in the section for coaches and family.”
Reese lifted a sculpted eyebrow but kept her eyes on the road. “Well, he was your boyfriend.”
“Yeah, but, like… a lot of those matches were televised, especially as I got into the deeper rounds. And gossip sites loved picking apart my comings and goings. Wasn’t he worried about Brynn catching him? Did she know?”
It was the million-dollar question, and maybe they’d get the answer this weekend.
“I’m not sure,” Reese offered. “I talked to Brynn earlier this week, about my bridesmaid dress. She seems like she genuinely wants to be friends with us.”
Sydney almost choked on the to-go coffee she’d plucked out of the car’s center console and pointed between them. “Us? As in you and me? You can’t be serious.”
“She said ‘us,’” Reese repeated. “She said she knew thesituation was complicated, whatever that means, but she was excited for us to all spend time together.”
“It just doesn’t make sense. We weren’t the most high-profile couple in the grand scheme of things, but paparazzi were normal, especially at tournaments. And you know Grant. He loves to go out and be the center of attention. And sometimes,” Sydney said with a hint of loss in her voice, “he’d plan these really romantic dates for us after matches, whether I won or lost.”
Reese gave her a side-eyed glance. “Grant doesn’t strike me as the romantic type.”
“He’d call me, just to check in. Every day, without fail.”
Reese pursed her lips. “I feel like that should be the baseline for a serious relationship, not the goal.”
And maybe that was true, but, “It’s just difficult to accept. Not the breakup, I mean,” Sydney clarified, “but that I was so wrong. You were right. I think he was intentionally misleading me. He had to be.”
She’d run it around and around in her mind over the last week until she’d accepted the truth. Grant had always been cocky, if not a little conceited, but they’d gotten together before she’d been famous. When there were no endorsement deals and Sydney had had to take multiple layovers to reach her tournament destinations.
It was for that reason, she’d realized, that he’d snuck past the bullshit meter she’d honed as her celebrity status had grown. He was Grant, a boy she’d grown up with, while she was still on the sidelines. A young adult she’d gone to college with, who’d started showing up to her matches junior year, when he’d been a senior and probably had a million other things he could be doing that would be more fun. Finally, he was a man she’d had plans to build a life with, who’d prioritized staying in Boston to help continue his family’s legacy.
