When the crew is across the concourse waiting for the elevators, Carly says to Liv, “Nice save.”
I give her a weak but grateful smile too. Carly scrolls again, and lower down on the thread is another photo. It’s outside the restaurant and Nash, always the gentleman, is holding the cab door open as the woman climbs in. I can see her face. It’s that trainer that stopped us in the parking garage a while ago.
I liked her, I think and feel betrayal. Why the hell does this hurt so much? We aren’t actually married. I take a slow breath trying to steady my emotions. “Okay well, whatever.”
Carly nods. “Good attitude! It happens. Honestly, wait till you have kids. I’m actually happy he’s got extracurriculars. I’m so damn busy being a solo parent most of the season to the four little ones, I should probably send his side pieces thank you cards.”
“What?” Liv looks flabbergasted.
I’m slightly stunned. I know that some players cheat and some wives turn a blind eye. I didn’t know some actually condone it. I shrug. “Sure. I mean I should totally send this one a thank you card. And I know exactly where to send it.”
I turn and walk toward the elevator.
Liv follows me, probably because she’s panicking. She doesn’t know what I’m thinking or what I’m doing. I can feel the tension in me getting higher as the elevator gets lower. By the time it opens on the bottom level I am seeing red. I march right past the locker room. Lucky for Nash I don’t want to barge in there and ruin his pre-game mojo or whatever, only because my brother is on this team too.
I end up at the trainer's office and find the door open and, conveniently, Nash is in there. Seeing him standing next to her, by the side of her desk, is like someone donkey-kicked me in the solar plexus. He sees me and of course, he looks guilty. "Ten. Hey. What's up?"
“Probably you,” I retort. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“This? No. We were just discussing his leg,” the trainer whose name I can’t remember says.
"Oh. I thought you were planning another romantic getaway to New York," I say and they both go near matching shades of white. For the first time in my life, I hate how smart I am. I pull the beautiful engagement ring from my finger, walk over, and place it on the corner of her desk.
“Tenley, don’t be?—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I hiss. “If you had something to say to me you should have said it before now. Too late. Marriage is over. I mean, it was never real anyway. None of it was real.”
I pivot on my heel and walk away. I can hear Liv scurrying behind me. She's urgently whispering my name, like a panicked librarian or something. I keep walking. Past the elevator, up the stairs, to the concourse, and against the current of people now filtering in.
Outside, in the dry, dirty air, I order an Uber and spend the ride willing myself not to cry.
Chapter 26
Nash
We lose 3-2 because of course we do. I hobble off the ice a frothing pool of self-loathing and frustration. The locker room has the same energy I’m feeling, minus the ‘you’re the shittiest husband that ever lived’ vibe. Coach Braddock walks in and before he can say anything I announce, “No media for me.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “You’re a captain.”
“One of the captains. Crew can handle it.” I won’t walk into that room and waste my time answering questions when I could be on my way home to find Tenley. To fix this mess I made.
“I can,” Crew backs me up even though I’ve told him nothing about the problem I’ve created, or the way my heart feels like it’s repeatedly hitting barbed wire every time it beats, and how I couldn’t even distract myself while playing, which is probably part of why we lost.
“How’s the leg?” Coach wants to know. It’s the perfect thing to blame my exit on, only it might land me in the press box for the next game. Besides, at this point, I can’t bring myself to lie. Lying is what got me into this.
“It’s the same. I just fucked up with the wife and need to fix it asap,” I explain and the murmurs around the room start to fade out.
You fucked up? With your fake wife? And that’s more important than talking to the press, which is your job? Coach says none of that but it’s written all over his face. He clears his throat. “Crew, you’re up with Casco and Pattison. Unless you all have something more important to do too?”
They all shake their heads vigorously. I am in more shit. Fantastic.
I hadn’t seen Tenley on my quick glances up at the friends and family seats during the game so I’m not surprised when, after a shower and throwing on my suit, I don’t see her in the VIP lounge either. I do see my parents though and they wave me over. “I can’t stay. I have to find Tenley. You don’t happen to know where she is?”
Mom shakes her head and shrugs. “Not sure, but I’m worried about your leg, kiddo,” Dad says. “Do they know what’s going on with it?”
“Not yet, but we’re working on it,” I say, which is as close to the truth as I’m willing to get right now. My dad and mom will rightfully freak out at even the smallest chance this might be cancer and I don’t have time to handle that. I need to find my wife. “I’m gonna go find her. We had a fight.”
Mom looks immediately sympathetic. “Honey. I’m sorry. Go. Find her and figure it out.”
