up,” she says, raising her palm in the air, that fragility twisting into anger. “Backtrack there. You thought me and Stew were making eyes at each other?”
“At the time, yes,” I admit, though now that I have a cooler head, I can see how that might not be the case. All I know is that one minute I was in the game, the next I noticed the two of them staring at each from across the technical areas.
“After everything I told you, everything that he’s done to me, that’s what you thought?”
I shut my eyes and rub at my forehead. “I didn’t say I was right.”
“Is that what really distracted you? Was it because of me?”
She wants me to tell her that it’s not true, but I can’t be anything but honest with her.
“Yes,” I admit cautiously. “It was you. It was the thoughts I had of you. The fear that you might go back to him, the fear that you might leave me.”
Her face crumples and she shakes her head ever so slightly. “No. No. I was just looking at him because I hadn’t looked at him yet. I’d been avoiding it. I wanted to see if he was upset about the game, I wanted to read him.”
“He wasn’t upset,” I answer quickly. “And why should he be? It went perfectly for him.”
“Alejo, when I told you about Mark York, I did not mean for you to full-on step on his foot like that.”
And here we are, at the even shittier part of the game.
“I know,” I say, sliding my hand down over my jaw, trying to dissipate the tension. Remorse rolls through my veins. “I know. I’m sorry. I was so into it, I wasn’t really thinking, I just knew I had to stop him, and I wanted the team to suffer. It was a mistake.”
“Fuck yeah it was a mistake.”
I glare at her. “You can lay off a little, okay? You think I don’t regret every single thing I did? You know that’s not like me. I’m not that dirty, I respect the players, I respect the game.”
“Well, you didn’t tonight.”
I can’t explain how it feels to have the woman who has your heart tell you how shitty you’ve been at the game you love, but it stings like a motherfucker.
“I don’t know what else to say.” I throw my hands up. “It happened. It won’t happen again.”
“I know it won’t. Because it can’t. You can’t afford to come back into the game to help pull them out of their losing streak only to put them back in it.”
“Thalia. Please. Enough. I can’t take it.”
She starts wringing her hands together and looks off, out the window. “I know. I’m sorry. This is my fault, too.”
“Just forget about that.”
“I can’t,” she says emphatically, looking at me with shining, pleading eyes. “I can’t forget it. You lost your cool because of me, because of your feelings for me.” She takes in a deep breath and I feel the energy in the room change into something dark and foreboding. “We need to step back.”
“I don’t know what you mean. Step back and analyze it?”
She shakes her head, hastily tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “No. We need to knock it off. This. Us.”
My eyes nearly fall out of my skull. “Knock it off?” I exclaim. Her words cut into my chest like razor blades.
“Not forever,” she says quickly, getting to her feet and putting her hand on my arm. “Just for a while. Until you get your head back in the game. Us sneaking around, it’s getting so complicated, and we can’t afford to have these complications getting in the way of you winning.”
“No,” I tell her, holding her face between my hands and staring down at her imploringly. “Please. We can make this work.”
“We’re not breaking up, Alejo. It’s just…we need a bit of space. You know it’s true. I don’t like this any more than you do.”
“Yeah fucking right,” I swear, my hands dropping away.
She pokes me hard in the chest with her forefinger. “What are you saying? Don’t say that. I care. I want this to continue.”
“No you don’t,” I practically sneer, so many raw emotions snaking inside me. I know I have to get them under control or I’m going to say something I don’t mean at all. “I’ve been laying my soul bare for you and you’ve given me nothing in return.”
“We’re together almost every single night,” she says quietly.