“Fuck. Off.”
“It is shower and food, or straight to the gym.” Gio’s tone is hard now. “I will drag you if I must. And tip off the tabloids so they can all see your heartbreak.”
“I’m not fucking heartbroken!” I roar.
“Of course not.” Gio rolls his eyes. “Shower. Now.”
He won’t leave until I cooperate, and I’m in no state to stop him from dragging me out. He’s right, I’m a heartbroken wreck.
I turn my back on him and get in the fucking shower.
After nearly falling over while attempting to bathe myself, I call my grandparents to assure them that I’m fine, spend 30 minutes going through countless messages without finding the one I’m looking for; anything from Victoria.Anything. I’d even take a heated “go fuck yourself” over dead silence.
Her lack of enthusiasm for texting me always grated. Now, it’s a screwdriver in my soul—because I know I won’t be hearing from her again. She’s probably blocked me.
The sweet scent of simmering tomatoes reaches through my bedroom door, luring me back out into the living room. I have to rub my eyes when I see the state of it.
It’s fuckingspotless. No bottles or grime in sight. How did Gio do all of this in the half hour I was gone?
Because my trainer is fucking amazing, that’s how. I’ve just never cared enough to acknowledge it before.
“And the beast emerges,” Gio murmurs, setting two plates of pasta drizzled with meat sauce on the table and flashing me a dazzling white smile. He wipes his hand on the dishtowel flung over his shoulder. “Now, where is the beauty?”
“I’m too hungover to understand what you’re asking.”
“The girl,” Gio emphasizes. “The intern. She is the reason you are like this, no?”
My heart clenches. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But you need to. Otherwise you wouldn’t be trying to drink yourself to death.Sit.” Gio motions at the table with the towel. “Eat. Put something in your body that isn’t liquor.”
What’s the point? I don’t say that out loud, lest Gio starts hitting me with the dish towel. Instead, I gracelessly slump into my seat, pick up a fork, and stab the pasta. I’m well aware that I’m acting like a petulant child who’s been denied extra gaming time, but I don’t care enough to stop.
None of it seems to matter without her.
“What happened?” Gio asks after I’ve taken a few bites. “I’ve seen you in many states, but never any like this.”
“Does it matter?” I snap.
“You were trying to break the world championship of how much a man can drink before dying, so yes.”
I clench my jaw. “I fucked up the race. I got angry. I said things to her I shouldn’t have.” Breaking up was inevitable, I have no doubt she would’ve realized that she’s far too good to me and done it first, but the pain in her eyes…
It was way over the line. I made her second-best to fuckingEthan, who’s a complete moron on his best days. I was angry at myself, Ulrich—who got off scot-free, as far as I heard in the hospital—and the world. I took it out on her.
At the time, I felt justified in my anger. I’d just spent four hours in the hospital, and she didn’t even bother to show up. In hindsight, I understand it’s possible she was held up by a serious debrief with the three big shots of team management, since she’s the one who put me on green tires.
Now, I just feel… sad.
“Ah, it is easy, then. You must simply apologize.”
“Apologize?” I repeat. “Even if I wanted to reconcile, which I don’t, what I said goes far past anapology.” She won’t forgive me for it, and I don’t expect her to. I don’twanther to. I’d rather she hate me from afar than get too close.
“Why don’t you want to make it right? You care for this girl.” Gio squints at me, and after a beat, his eyes widen. “Dear god, youloveher.”
“No, I—”
“You changed for the better with her. The look in your eyes whenever you spoke about her—I should’ve known.” His astonishment quickly turns to indignance. “Why would you speak cruelly to her?” his face turns red. “Are youmad?”
