A constant dark cloud had loomed over him long before Isabella had dropped her bombshell news.Had he driven her away?She’d been turned off by his injuries.Wasn’t that just basic evolution and laws of attraction?The female of the species chooses the strongest and fittest male.Until three months ago, Dan could barely walk unaided, let alone do anything else with his body.Could he really blame Issy for cheating on him?
For better or worse, in sickness and in health…
That bloody horse had struck before he and Isabella had spoken their vows, but sticking by each other went without saying, didn’t it?
And now, for the sake of good public relations, he had to pretend they were still friends, regardless of what she’d done.
On Thursday, after the announcement, Isabella’s PR team would release another statement they’d written on his behalf.Some such bullshit about how he and Issy still loved each other but were no longer in love.The truth of Issy’s affair had to be guarded at all costs.Fine by him.The last thing he wanted was to be hounded again by those same thirsty, obnoxious paps, plastering shots of him looking like shit all over the internet.
Poor Dan Jones.Once, he had everything, and now…
And now, he had his life—a life he had to rebuild, regardless of the aches and pains and nightmares, as well as the loss of the woman he’d planned to spend the rest of his life with.
Water dripped onto the floor as Dan pushed away from the bath.He dried himself and pulled on the same hideous orange shorts from yesterday.When his bag arrived from Auckland, he’d burn these fucking shorts—and that awful red top, too.A ritual to mark the end of his journey to the Cook Islands and the start of his new life.By the time Mum arrived tomorrow, he’d be stronger, more cheerful.As close as he could get to Lovable and Friendly Dan Jones, the nation’s hero.
If only his stomach would settle.
He rubbed it now, feeling like he needed to hurl and get rid of whatever was swirling around in his gut.
But he was too weak.
Slowly, he pulled out the sick-ridden clothes he’d stuffed into his bag last night at the airport, dropped them into his old bath water to soak, and then lugged his body back to the living area.
Outside, the sun was trying to come out from behind thick gray clouds.He should get some fresh air, explore his surroundings, but he felt too rough, too shivery.Too sick.
He dropped onto the sofa and stared at the bed he should’ve been sharing with Isabella.
When they’d met three years ago, it was like fireworks had gone off inside him.Her smile from across the room had been a true lightning strike.They’d been at the swanky Dorchester Hotel in Park Lane, both attending the Sports Personality of the Year Awards, which he’d won.He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her all night.Then, after the ceremony, there she’d been, parting the crowded ballroom, gliding toward him, looking more beautiful in real life than on TV or in any of the photographs he’d seen of her.
“Congratulations,” she’d said.“Another award to add to your collection.Does it ever get old?”
“Stick around and find out,” he’d said.
The following year, he’d won three golds and broken the world record for the 100-meter sprint.
And Isabellahadstuck around.
They’d moved in together, splitting their time between her central London flat and his home in Somerset, close to where he’d grown up—and where he’d spent the past six months recuperating, living a life so far removed from that first night at the Dorchester Hotel that no, he couldn’t blame Isabella for leaving him.All that nursing and physio he’d needed after the operations to fix his hip and knee…It wasn’t the life she’d signed up for, but still, the pain of Isabella’s betrayal shot through him.Squeezing his eyes shut, Dan lay down and hugged his knees.
His stomach.
The nausea had increased far beyond the usual Isabella-induced heartache.That pukey kid.He must’ve given him something.There was no other explanation for the way his stomach was cramping.
There was a light knock on the door, and as if his misery had conjured up the germy kid and his mother, they walked into the room.
Dan turned his back on them, too miserable and in too much pain to face them.This wasn’t how he liked to be seen by close friends and family, let alone people he didn’t know.
“We’ve just come for a few things, and then we’ll be out of your hair,” she said.“And by the way, it was Mr.Hehu who made the mistake with the reservation.His daughter is looking for another place for me and my son, so we should be fully out by this afternoon.Mind if I leave our things here until then?”
“No, go ahead.”Dan clutched his stomach and shivered.He’d feel better soon, once he slept off whatever that kid had infected him with.By the time they came back, he’d feel more human.He’d apologize for his rudeness on the flight and his general shitheadedness and make it up to her somehow.But right now, he was too busy trying not to die.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah,” he managed.“I’m great.”
“Well…um…in that case… See you later.”
There was a shuffle and some childish babbling, a soft click, and then…silence.
