All but one.
Tieran comes toward me, and I cast my eyes down. “Baby, please.” His voice is soft as feathers. I shake my head, unable to look at him, feeling so unworthy of his adoration and knowing that none of this changes anything. I still have to walk away. I still have to give this all up for him to have his best shot. “Look at me, Jade. You look so beautiful, and I’ll do anything if you’d just look at me. Let me see those eyes.”
I take a page from his playbook and put on a mask, cosplaying a version of me that isn’t a heartbroken mess, because it’s what he needs to have the motivation to get out there and play his heart out.
I take a deep breath and lift my eyes to his, letting mine rage with a fire I know he craves. “You’ll do anything?” Iask, and I see a shiver creep up his back before he breathes a sigh of relief and nods. “Then get on the pitch andwin.”
He smiles devilishly and winks. “Yes, boss.”
The second he turns to jog out and join his teammates, I attempt to flee, but every Legends fan cages me in, keeping me from escaping.
“Come on, let’s sit down. They’re not going to let you go anywhere until the match is over.” We take our usual seats, and I shrink into mine, feeling like everyone in this entire stadium is staring at me.
I hazard a glance up and, yup, they actually are staring at me. They’re likely thinking about the violating article that posted blurry, barely-censored images of me on my knees and—oh God, I’m going to be sick.
“Fuck off, you shrimp dicked buffoons.” Lottie comes striding through the seats before taking her own and placing a hand on my leg. “You look a mess. You alright?”
“You two should start a podcast on how to be uplifting members of society,” I mumble.
You look so beautiful, and I’ll do anything if you’d just look at me. Let me see those eyes.
Tieran’s agonized voice floats to the forefront of my mind, soothing like a balm.
“It’s actually kind of nice seeing you like this,” she comments, and all I can do is stare at her, mouth gaping. “No! Sorry, that came out wrong. You’re just always so put together. I was starting to think you were superhuman.”
I huff, feeling far from untouchable at the moment.
Halfway through the game, several phones ping with alerts, and a whisper rumbles through the crowd.
A rock sinks to the bottom of my gut as I feel eyes shift my way again. Maybe I’m imagining it, but it’s almost as if I can taste their anger, hear their vitriolic thoughts.You did this. You put him in this position. You’re the reason he’s throwing away a shot at his dream.
“Fuck,” Aanya says as she tries to hold the phone away from my view. Even though my stomach heaves withimpending doom, I rip it out of her hands to see a headline splashed across the top in bold lettering that threatens to make the excessive amount of ice cream I had earlier resurface.
SOURCES CLOSE TO THE NATIONAL TEAM’S BOARD OF DIRECTORS CONFIRM RECENT EVENTS ARE MAKING THEM RECONSIDER THEIR LINEUP.
My heart is running around on the pitch, totally oblivious to the fact that his career is imploding in real time, and I can’t fix it. The truth has been pulled out of the glass bottle, and there’s no shoving it back in.
Just then, my own phone chirps, but not with a news alert like everyone else.
Maxine
Who knew sleeping with a finance guy would cause such a scandal.
I bristle at her calling out my lie from the day she ambushed me in my flat and Tieran showed up.
Maxine
I’ve already had the board reach out to me saying you’ve been unresponsive in addressing their concerns. This doesn’t look good for optics, and you need to do damage control, or you’ll end up with nothing.
It’s time to end the fantasy and come home, Jade. Having it all is a lie women tell to make themselves feel better. Your level of success will always come with sacrifices.
I look out to the field and spot him immediately, just as he looks over at me and smiles, those damn dimples finally popping again. My heart falters, my nose tingles, my eyesburn.
My lifehadalways come with sacrifices, and I was content with that. But I never anticipated having to sacrifice my heart, never thought I would care for anyone enoughthat letting them go would feel like severing a limb. The phantom pains are already lighting up my body from the loss.
I send a quick email to the board, ignore my mom’s texts, and pocket my phone. Shrinking down in my seat, I attempt to ride out the rest of the match without drawing attention to myself, but not a second goes by when I can’t hear the whispers or feel their eyes boring into the back of my head.
The buzzer for half-time finally rings, and the players start to trickle off the pitch. Now is when I need to attempt to escape, while fans are distracted grabbing more beer and going to the bathroom.
