Page 15 of Pucking the Team
My throat thickened, and a wave of emotion came over me. But I refused to cry and stared at the swans without blinking, hoping to keep my eyes dry.
“We’ve been concentrating on form,” Benjamin went on, “playing for The Vipers was a dream come true, for both of us. When we got traded at the same time, me from Chicago, Theo from New York, we didn’t wanna mess it up.”
I took a deep breath and concentrated on Benjamin’s words. The swans went from view. “Always good to focus on what’s important to you.”
“Sure is. So we bought a house, near some of the other players, same gated community, you know, and we’ve had our heads down focusing. This tour has been fan-fucking-tastic after the years of hard work, not least ’cause we finished top of the league last season.”
“I’m pleased for you. For both of you.”
He shifted slightly, stooping to examine the zipper part of the dress.
I pressed my hand over the neckline; the gown was loosening and would soon be ready to fall away.
Fall away into the history books.
“Jesus, this is so delicate,” he muttered.
“I know, sorry, want me to try?”
“Nah.” His knuckle brushed my butt as he moved the thin flap of material that hid the zipper tug. “I think…I think…yep, I’ve got it. Tweezers might have been helpful but…”
The dress loosened further, finally reaching a point I knew I’d be able to slip out of it with a bit of wriggling this way and that.
“There.” He stepped away. “All done.”
“Thank you. I mean really…this has felt like a shroud these last few hours. I can’t wait to get out of it.”
“Bathroom is there unless you want me to…?” He dipped his head and half turned to the door.
“No, no, it’s your room. I’ll just…” With one hand holding the dress and the other on my suitcase, I made my way to the bathroom. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“Take your time.” He moved to the mini bar. “I’ll pour us a drink.”
I didn’t answer and pushed into the bathroom and closed the door. I let out a sigh.
The bathroom was huge with a walk-in shower, double sink, and a plush chair in the corner. Standing before the mirror, I stared at my reflection. I could conjure a million expressions on command, but this was one I’d never seen on myself.
Defeat. Defiance. Betrayal. Isolation. Bitterness. Humiliation. Fury.
A complex mix that made my heart beat fast and my stomach clench.
“Damn you, Steven, and go to hell, Cheryl. I wish you the very worst in life today and forevermore.”
It wasn’t in my nature to wish anyone ill, but as I writhed from the gown, peeling the sheer voile from my arms and tugging the silk over my hips, I just couldn’t help it. They’d ruined the future I’d seen for myself. Stomped on my dreams of a home and children and perhaps a little dog, starting and ending each day with Steven at my side.
They’d treated me like an idiot. Taken me for a fool.
And it was only because of an anonymous text message I wasn’t staring down the barrel of a doomed marriage right now.
I kicked the dress to one side, a sad white heap of broken dreams, and opened my suitcase.
Quickly, I found skinny blue jeans and a pink t-shirt with the YSL logo under an image of a small flamingo. I dragged a brush through my stiff sprayed hair and pulled it up into a high ponytail, enjoying the air on my neck.
Next I grabbed a face wipe and took off the heavy eye shadow. I left the lashes on, they could stay, as could theBallerina Shoespink lipstick.
“Right, I’m back.” I rammed my hands on my hips and looked in the mirror. “Pippa the bride has gone and will never appear again.”
Did I mean that? Yes. At this moment, I absolutely did. There was nothing I wanted less in the world than to be a bride. Except toe fungus or ingrowing nails, stuff like that, I didn’t want those either.
