Her hand flew to her mouth, trembling. “Marc. I’m so sorry. I don’t know . . .”
Other than his ragged breaths, silence filled the tent. The rain beat out a morbid rhythm above them, beside them, all around them.
“I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t mean . . .”
“Are you sure?” Marc asked, torment in his tone. “Were you imagining him when you kissed me?”
She hadn’t. Right? “I . . .”
“It’s my fault, Eva. I pushed you. You aren’t ready.”
“You didn’t push me. I kissed you first, remember?” And how right it had felt. So why had Brent’s name found its way out of her mouth? Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Marc groaned. “I love you, Eva. But I was an idiot to think you could ever be mine. You’ll always be Brent’s. Maybe that’s how it should be. Either way, I can’t compete with a ghost.”
Before she could say another word, he unzipped the tent. When he looked back at her, the light from the moon allowed her to see the pain flickering through his eyes.
“Marc, wait. I do love you. I do.”
“Even if that’s true, I’m not sure love is enough to make this work between us.” He slipped from the tent.
Eva tried to stand, but pain shot through her ankle at the movement. She grunted and side-crawled to the edge of the tent, sending a prayer heavenward. Help me fix this. A loud whimper burst from her lips as she attempted to restrain her tears. She ducked her head outside, but Marc was nowhere to be seen. He must have fled into his own tent.
“Eva?” Angela climbed out from her tent. “What’s wrong?”
Eva couldn’t answer, just buried her face in her hands and cried, her shoulders shuddering.
“Come on. You’re getting all wet.” Angela lugged Eva back to her bed, then stroked her hair while Eva cried some more.
Whether they got to finish the race or not, now she just couldn’t see a scenario where this ended well.
When her tears were spent, Eva glanced up at her sister-in-law, saw the hardened lines around her eyes and mouth, and wondered what demons Angela was battling even while she listened to Eva fight her own.
39
The next morning, despite the utter agony her body was in, Angela headed out to find Simon. Maybe he’d give her the 4–1–1 on their situation.
Rain still tumbled from above and slicked off Angela’s rain poncho onto the muddy ground. The once-azure sky had grayed and purpled. It would have been a beautiful mixture if it didn’t mean the demise of a dream.
On her way to the media tent, the only competitors she saw out and about were huddled together under a pop-up canopy, their breath releasing in puffs as they spoke in low tones made unintelligible to Angela’s ears by the rain.
So far there was no sign of Marc or Eva, though after last night’s events, Angela expected both to stay tucked away—Marc to lick his wounds and Eva to continue despairing. Angela had done her best to console her sister-in-law, and when Eva had finally fallen into a fitful sleep, Angela had snuck back to her own tent and attempted the same.
But every time her eyes closed, she’d seen a future she wasn’t all that excited about. Yes, she and Marc had just spoken yesterday about setting her up with a position at company headquarters when she returned. Only forty hours a week and good pay and benefits. But once again, she was falling, not choosing. Circumstances were dictating her life instead of Angela being in control of her destiny. And yes, she could still try to go after what she wanted—if she could ever truly figure out what that was.
But at what point did a person admit defeat?
Still, maybe Simon could offer her an inkling of hope—something small to cling to.
“Ang!”
Turning, she caught sight of him striding toward her from a copse of trees, his clothing rumpled, a dusting of stubble along his jaw. There was something appealing about a man who looked like he’d just rolled out of bed . . .
She shook herself. “I was just looking for you.”
“In that case, take a walk with me?”
Did she really want to walk more than absolutely necessary right now? But she wouldn’t want him to get in trouble for giving her insider information, so they needed to speak privately. “Where?”
Placing his hand on the small of her back, he led her toward a little trail traversing