I just married one—the one they all want but have never had.

Not that Daire doesn’t sleep around. I’ve heard the stories, but it’s a well-known fact on campus that he won’t touch the puck bunnies. Maybe, in some weird, fucked-up way, that’s why I became one. So I could convince myself that’s why he didn’t want me.

I brush my hair behind my ear with shaky fingers.

I’ve done my best over the years to act like losing Daire doesn’t bother me, but in reality, it was, and still is, one of the biggest losses I’ve ever suffered.

I loved him.

As a friend.

As something more.

And then I lost him, and I was left floundering.

“You married Daire, right?” One girl snickers. I turn her way as the guys skate onto the ice. Cheers ring out, but the sound is dull thanks to the roar of blood in my ears. My face warms, and my heart rate picks up. I shouldn’t have turned around. There’s no way anything nice will come out of this girl’s mouth.

I locate her behind me and over a few seats. She’s smirking at me with one perfectly sculpted brow arched, like she thinks she’s so much better than me. Her sleek blond hair is stick straight and her lips are glossy. She would be pretty if she wasn’t giving me such a nasty look. With her upper lip curled like that, she looks like she ate something nasty.

“Yes,” I reply, hoping my answer will be good enough.

I turn, desperately wanting to watch the game that’s about to begin and tonotengage with an army of mean girls.

“How does it feel to know you married a guy who hates you?”

This is the first game I’ve attended since we got married. The last few were away games. I knew going into this that I was bound to face some snide comments. Regardless, they still sting.

“Hey, watch your mouth,” Bertie snaps, grasping my hand and squeezing gently.

I recognize the girl. We were in class together last year. It takes me a few seconds, but her name finally comes to mine. Hannah. A soft, pretty name. It doesn’t fit the scowling ice princess behind me.

“It was an honest question,” she says, her tone flippant. “He pity married you, you know.”

I roll my eyes.

If anything, I pity married him, but go off, sis.

“You’re nothing but a whore,” another voice chimes in. “What would he want with you anyway?”

Despite how hard my heart is pounding, I keep my attention fixed on the rink and do my best to ignore them.

It’s impossible to block out the words completely as they pummel me from all sides, but I don’t give them the satisfaction of speaking to any of them again.

It hurts that girls can be so vicious to one another when we should be on each other’s sides.

Daire’s on the bench, and every minute or so, he glances my way, wearing a worried frown. There’s no way he can hear what the girls are saying, but it’s obvious he can tell that something is off. I paste on a smile. The last thing I want to do is be a distraction for him.

“Hey.” I turn to Bertie, being sure to keep my focus fixed on her and not the girls farther down the bench. “I’m going to get a Coke. You want anything?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

I scoot my way to the stairs, then hurry up them. I’m winded by the time I reach the level where the concession and bathrooms are.

I bypass the food, ignoring the way the smell of buttery popcorn calls my name, and burst into the bathroom. Since the game is in full force, it’s empty. I close myself in a stall and lean my back against the door.

The tears come in a torrent.

My makeup is going to be ruined, but I can’t make them stop.