Page 132 of Playing for Keeps
“You believe me, then?” I ask, meeting her eyes.
“Yes,” Ronnie says without hesitation. “If you say it didn’t happen, I believe you.”
I turn to Cleo. “And you?”
She sighs, exasperated. “What I believe doesn’t matter. Whatdoesmatter is that the story is coming out, and I can’t stop it. The best I can do is try to control the damage.”
I drop my head. Ivy didn’t sign up for this kind of exposure. She’s been dragged into it because of me. She doesn’t deserve any of this.
“I don’t care about me,” I say, pacing again, “but Ivy’s not used to this kind of media storm. She’s private. She’s not even really been seen publicly with me other than the charity dinner, and now the whole internet’s going to have an opinion on her character when they know nothing about her. You need to keep her out of this.”
Ronnie hesitates. “That might not be possible, Wyatt. If this woman makes it about Ivy, then Ivy’sinit, whether you like it or not.”
“Fuck!” I shout, banging my fist on the countertop. “She already looks like I broke her.” My voice cracks. “I can’t let the press finish the job.”
“Look. I can’t stop the story,” Cleo says, her voice gentler this time. “But you can get ahead of it. Make a statement. Get your truth out before the gossip goes into overdrive.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Cleo nods. “I’ll draft a statement tonight and send it over later. You need to go talk to Ivy.”
She leans in and kisses my cheek, followed by Ronnie, and then they’re gone, leaving me standing alone in the kitchen with my thoughts spiralling.
I don’t know what the hell I’m going to say to her. I’m not married, and I think she knows that too. But even the suggestion of something like this could be enough to unravel everything we’ve built.
What we have is incredible, everything I’d spent years hoping for, and I’ll be damned if I let one careless night destroy it.
Ivy
When I get into Wyatt’s bathroom, I close the door behind me with a click and lean against it, my arms wrapping around myself.
I believe him. I believe that he didn’t marry anyone, that the night in that photo was just a night from his past, one that ended in the morning like plenty before that. He’s never been shy aboutthe kind of life he used to live. He’s never lied to me about that. I never expected to be the only woman he’s touched. I also didn’t expect to be dragged into his past like this either.
I push off the door and turn on the taps, sitting on the edge of the tub as I watch the water rise, my mind spinning. I can handle his past, even if it stings a little. What I can’t handle is the media turning me into some sort of scandal.The other woman. That’s how this will look if this story hits tomorrow. It won’t matter what the truth is. People will see a headline and believe it. They’ll think I’m the homewrecker. The woman who stole someone else’s husband.
I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this storm.
Slipping off Wyatt’s jersey, I climb in the tub and slide down until the warmth covers my shoulders, trying to calm the sick twist in my stomach. I guess I never realized what dating someone in the public eye meant, and I definitely didn’t realize I’d be handing so much of myself over to the world.
I love him, though, enough to weather all of it. But right now, I’m not sure if that’s going to be enough to protect me from what’s coming.
As steam rises from the water, the scent of lavender wraps around me, trying and failing to calm the chaos in my chest. My fingers trail across the edge of the tub, my mind racing. I replay everything in my head; the photo, the headlines to come, and the pain etched on Wyatt’s face.
The bathroom door opens, and I hear his footsteps before I see him. I don’t look up straight away, still trying to piece everything together.
“Ivy,” Wyatt whispers.
He walks closer and crouches at the side of the tub. I meet his gaze. He looks tired.
“I didn’t know if you wanted to be alone, but I needed to see if you’re okay.”
I sigh. “I’m not mad,” I say. “I know you didn’t marry anyone, Wyatt, and I know you had a life before me.”
He exhales and I can hear the relief, but I’m not done.
“I’m just… trying to figure out what happens now. If this woman goes to the press and starts saying I’m the other woman, saying you cheated, it won’t matter what the truth is. Everyone’s going to jump to conclusions.”
He takes my hand. “We’ll tell them the truth, baby. Cleo’s drafting a statement to put out tonight, before the story breaks.”
