Page 44 of Faking It with my Hockey Crush

Emma

Okay. Yes. I’m jealous. There. I said it.

I know it’s ridiculous, and I shouldn’t be, but I am. Apart from the fact that this Megan woman is absolutely stunningly gorgeous, I now know that she was the serious relationship Ryan was talking about when we went on that weird weekend away.

Ryan seemed to be oblivious to his ex’s motives last night, but I can see her agenda from a mile off. Maybe it’s a female thing. Not that I would ever dream of doing what she’s doing, but women just know, right?

When I get into the office, Sharon gives me a worried look.

“You okay?”

“Sure.” I pin on a smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

My friend pulls a face that blatantly tells me that I’m not fooling anyone. “Oh, come on, Emma. You went from ten to zero last night in a matter of five minutes.”

“Yes, well. The arrival of a certain person kinda irked me.”

While I put my coat and bag away, Sharon leans forward in her chair.

“I did some digging last night. I knew Ryan was in a relationship a while back, but I couldn’t remember the details. Apparently, Megan used his money and connections to start up her own beauty brands. No one had even heard of her before she was with Ryan, but after that, her business flourished.”

“Uh-huh,” I say, trying to sound like I don’t care.

“And then she dumped him for one of his teammates.”

“What?” I spin around.

Now she has my attention. Ryan didn’t mention that in his story.

“It’s true,” Sharon says, nodding like one of those wobbly-headed things people stick on their dash. “There were rumors that she cheated on him, but they were never confirmed. But yes. Basically, she used him.”

It was just like Ryan said. Not that I disbelieved him at the time. I suppose, if I’m honest, I didn’t really think much about it. But then, Megan Whitmore wasn’t on my radar back then.

When Ryan comes in for his appointment later, I’m still trying to figure out how I feel. Sure, there is a big part of me that understands she did him dirty, so why would he want anything more to do with her? But then, there’s this other niggling part that I just can’t extinguish.

Usually, there’s a little bit of light banter in our sessions, but today, I’m more reserved than usual. Not mean, just a little detached. I know he’s noticed because he’s been trying too hard to make me laugh. But the harder he tries, the more I’ve gone into myself.

“Are we okay?” he asks when the session is over.

“Sure,” I say.

It isn’t a lie. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like the truth, either.

“I’m really sorry that last night was ruined,” he says.

I shrug. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“And yet, somehow, I feel like it was.”

That feels like a dig, like he’s calling me out on how I’m acting, and I feel myself getting annoyed at his remark.

“Well, we have splashed our lives all over the internet,” I say a little too caustically. “She was bound to find you sooner or later.”

“Emma,” Ryan says, his tone sickeningly apologetic.

“It’s fine,” I say quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, I walk over to the door and hold it open for him.

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