Marco’s expression hardens. “Yeah. And then all that shit he said. He was actually close to the truth.”
“Yes,” I admit quietly.
“You punched him,” Marco says flatly.
“Yes.”
He exhales hard. “Jesus.”
I look down at my hands. “I didn’t plan it. It just… happened.”
“Yeah,” Marco mutters. “That’s the problem with snapping. It doesn’t come with a schedule.”
Silence stretches again. Then he says, quieter, “You said today you’re supposed to meet his parents.”
I nod, breath catching. “I’ve never met them.”
Marco’s eyes widen again. “You’re married to him and you’ve never met his parents?”
I lift one shoulder in a helpless shrug. “We kept putting it off. Timing. Travel. Secrecy. My… fear.”
Marco studies me. “And today was the day.”
“It was,” I whisper. “Rafe flew in for the game. He was going to see me for five minutes, then drive there and tell them. Tell them he’s married. To me. Then I was going to join him today.”
Marco winces. “And you don’t even have the address?”
“No,” I admit, shame heating my cheeks. “And he won’t answer.”
Marco’s face tightens with something like sympathy and irritation braided together. “You’ve fucked up,” he says bluntly.
I close my eyes. “I know.”
Marco pushes off the wall and points toward the food tray like it’s a weapon. “Let’s have breakfast, and we’ll figure things out.”
“I can’t?—”
“Yes, you can,” he cuts in. “You’re going to eat, because you’re about to go into a PR meeting and pretend you’re fine, and you can’t do that on fumes.”
I stare at him.
He stares back, unyielding, before quietly adding, “And I’m not telling anyone.”
The words hit me in the chest. Relief and gratitude crash through me so hard my eyes sting.
“Marco—”
“I mean it,” he says firmly. “I don’t know what kind of idiot would betray you over something like this, but it’s not me.”
I blink fast. “Thank you.”
He waves it off, but his eyes are serious. “Eat.”
So I do.
Or I try to.
We sit at the small table by the window, sunlight making the room feel too honest. I choke down a few bites of eggs and toast while Marco drinks coffee and watches me like he’s monitoring my pulse.
