Page 76 of Reconciling With the Rival

“You know, for someone who claims to hate reality shows, you sure seemed invested.”

He shakes his head. “I wasn't.”

“Oh, really? Denying it?”

He nods.

“Then how come you looked shocked and distraught when another cheating rumor came out? I could tell you’re into it. I think there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

His voice drops when he responds. “You couldn't be more right about that, Ella.”

I have a feeling there's some sort of double meaning to that, but I disregard it for now as he gets up and heads to his room. He doesn't look back at me before he closes the door.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” Alissa says to me when I drop my wine glass in the sink and start to clean it.

“Why?”

“You two didn't argue all night. At least, not how you usually do.” She throws her hands in the air. “It’s a bloody miracle.”

As she heads to her room, I can’t help but notice she was right. We didn't fight at all tonight. Actually, I had fun just being in his presence. He didn't push my buttons or try to get under my skin. The two of us simply existed around one another, and if I’m not careful, I’ll get used to it.

I can’t afford to get used to anything, because Leo will sweep the rug out from underneath me soon—just like he always does.

25

A Sex Pact

Wednesday, November 6th

I woke up stressed.

Correction, I woke up at four this morning sweating and thinking my heart was going to explode after some sort of dream. The worst part being, I don’t remember the dream at all. All I know is I woke up, thought I was going to die, and couldn't get back to sleep.

Now, I’m at the gym, trying to work out my anxiety.

I fucking hate everything.

Fuck this. Fuck all the guilt I feel, fuck how helpless I am over here. I hate it, and nothing I do will make it go away. It lingers in my body, always sitting and waiting to attack. It hides and bides its time before I’m at a low point, and it makes me go even lower.

What if my dad dies while I’m over here? What if it’s sudden like last time, and I never get to say goodbye to him? What if he dies while both of his kids are an ocean away?

I don't think I’d be able to live with that. It doesn't feel possible. If I had to go back to England knowing my dad was no longer a living entity in the country, I don't know if I could do it.

I take the speed of the treadmill up a few beats and start sprinting, hoping the intensity of my workout will drown out the thoughts flooding my head. It’s not going to work. I know it’s not going to work, but I do it anyway.

After the most intense two-hour workout of my life, I get home, and I’m still on edge. Thankfully, I have a half-day today. I talked to Imogen about it yesterday. My dad has a consultation today with a new heart surgeon who’s going to show him an alternative way to do the surgery he needs.

My mum thought Alissa and I being on the phone for the appointment would help convince him this route is what’s best. I know we all don't want to wait for him to have another heart attack or stroke, but he’s stubborn.

I can’t imagine having my body go through something as difficult as heart surgery, but I wish he knew we don’t want to lose him way too soon. I’m nervous he’s going to hold off like he did last time. But this is a new surgeon, and maybe he can get my father to bite the bullet if we can’t.

As I slump against my door and grab my towel, I open the door, about to head to shower, when Ella opens hers.

Her bathrobe is in her hand, and she pins me with the same glare she does every morning when I beat her in here. I can’t find it in myself to care.

“Do you want to arm wrestle or something?” she asks me, dead serious.

“Just shower, Ella. I can wait.”

---