Page 102 of My Best Bet

“I can’t eat that,” she said quietly, staring down at the plate.

The silence in the apartment felt suffocating. I rubbed my forehead. “Why not?”

“Andy and I…”

My eyes flew shut like I could block out her words, and my hands balled up in fists to harness my frustration. If Andy was in the room, I would’ve slugged him in his stupid asshole mouth.

She wasn’t okay. Her body looked rail thin, her pale face gaunt, she was overtraining and hurting. She was falling apart right at the finish line and she didn’t even realize it.

“You’re not okay,” I choked out.

She reared back like I slapped her and those sky blue eyes of hers turned stormy. “What?”

“You need to eat, Mer.”

She shook her head. “What? I’ve been–”

“Realfood.”

Her chest rose and fell. “Andy said–”

“He’s controlling you, Meredith,” I snapped. “What’s even in those shakes he’s dumping down your throat? Because it’s obviously not real nutrition. Have you even asked?”

Her eyebrows knit together. “Andy’s helping me. You’re being insecure.”

“And you’re being a cliche,” I burst out.

She reeled back like I slapped her, and I immediately felt like a dick.Fuck.This wasnotgoing the way I planned.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” My nose flared with an angry breath. “You’re pushing way too hard, you’re not taking care of yourself, you’re popping fucking pills to cover the pain, you’re not eating, so you’re not recovering. Your body’s falling apart.” My throat burned. “You’re not okay, baby.”

“No, I'm fine, that’s so mean, Colt,” her voice wavered. Her eyes darted everywhere except my face. “How could you say that? You know this is important to me. Skating is all I have–”

“All you have?” My anger gave way to something worse:devastation.

Her mouth dropped slightly open. “That’s not what I meant. I–”

My hand covered my mouth. When I looked back at her, at her weak frame, my gut twisted with dread. I tried to keep my tone gentle, but I was panicking inside. “When was your last period?”

I watched her sift back through her memories. “I… I don’t know,” she whispered. “It doesn't matter.”

It doesn’t matter?I wanted to scream-cry. I scrubbed a hand over my face to cover my own emotions cracking through. “It does. It fucking does. That’s a problem, Mer. You have to think of your health.Nothing elsefucking matters, okay? None of it.” I gave her a hard look. “We could throw it all away tomorrow, be done with the rink and everyone in it, and I wouldn’t give a fuck.” I pushed out of my chair, suddenly too angry and worried to sit still.

I wished we could both quit and run away together.

But we wouldn’t.

We couldn’t.

The rink controlled us.

“Where are you going? Please don’t leave.” Her voice cracked. “I’ll eat.” She sounded so desperate and I fucking hated it.

I covered my eyes because I was going to lose it. I was going to cry like a fucking baby in front of her. How did it come to this? How did Iletit come to this? I shouldn’t have stayed away so long.

Swallowing the burning lump in my throat, I choked out, “Good. You need to, baby. But right now, I think we need a minute. I think we need space. I’m… angry.”

Her eyes rounded in shock. “At me?”