Page 114 of Making the Save

Sydney was right. She didn’t win.

23

Sydney

Iran for the bathroom. There was one on the floor of the arena which was reserved for guests only, but I stopped as soon as I saw the line. There would be people I knew in there. Women who were casual acquaintances, reporters, people who loved to share the tea with anyone who would listen.

I couldn’t go in there. I couldn’t let them see how wrecked I was.

Maybe he was changing his mind?

Like I was some toy he enjoyed playing with and he wanted to play with me a little longer.

Screw that.

I loved him. He had to know. He had to feel it every time I rubbed his back late at night when he started to get tired. He had to know how much of myself I was handing over to him every time we were in bed together. He had to see it every time I looked into his eyes. I showed him my music. My soul.

I did all of it knowing I was going to suffer when he walked away from me.

Having to swallow the sadness, so I could luxuriate in what I knew would be this brief period of happiness, was the price I paid. A price I accepted.

And…maybe he was changing his mind?

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. That I couldn’t just be me and be enough. I had to come with all the right hockey wife accessories too.

“He doesn’t love me,” I whispered aloud, so I could hear it. I could acknowledge it. I stood there in the vast lobby, full of people, and I was completely alone.

“Sydney? Hey, you okay?”

It was Axil, coming out of the men’s room, a concerned expression on his face. Was I shaking? It felt like my stupid winglets were vibrating.

No, I thought. I wasn’t okay. I couldn’t go back there and sit next to Wyatt with a stupid fake smile plastered to my face. I couldn’t go back to the house in Malibu with him and wait for ournatural conclusion.

I couldn’t pretend anymore.

“No, I’m not okay,” I whispered. “I haven’t been okay for so long.”

“Want me to get your husband?”

“He’s not…” there were a million ways I could finish that sentence, but the words that came out were “what I need right now.”

“You need a drink or something?” he asked, looking around.

I took a breath and it shuddered. “I could use a friend.”

He turned to face me and nodded, like he understood everything I wasn’t saying.

“You want to get out of here?” he asked.

“I don’t want to drag you away from-”

“All this bullshit? It’s fine. Let’s go, Sydney.”

Which reminded me why I’d had a crush on Axil in the first place. He was then, and still was now, a legitimately good guy.

He dropped his arm across my shoulders, which felt nothing like Wyatt’s, but was nice all the same, and we made our way through the crowd. He texted his driver to come around to one of the side gates to pick us up.

It wasn’t a limo waiting for us, but a darkened SUV. Axil opened the back door for me and I hopped inside. He followed and quickly shut the door behind him. And just like that, the rest of the world was gone.