Page 128 of Breakaway Hearts
We hang up, and less than a minute later, I get a text from her with a link to the article.
Shit. I thought theWhale or Womanarticle was bad. This one makes me feel physically ill, just looking at the picture and the headline.
It’s a photo of us holding hands as we leave a restaurant, captured at probably the most unflattering angle for me possible, with the headline:Lover to Loser: How a Schoolteacher Tricked a Hockey Star into a Fake Relationship.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“Are you fucking serious?” Reese growls. He starts pacing, the phone still glued to his ear.
I can’t pay attention to what he’s saying though. I just keep scrolling, half-reading the article, surprised at how much is true, and barely breathing because of that.
“Callie.”
I keep scrolling, my gaze scanning the text. The article goes into depth about how I started showing up to all of his games, giving an analysis of when exactly I started wearing his jersey. About how we put on a show, kissing and holding hands in public just so he could win his ex-girlfriend back. About how the whole thing was a lie, top to bottom.
But worse than the article itself are the comments at the bottom.
@PixelPirate12: He should’ve at least found someone as pretty as that Sienna chick if he was gonna try to make her jealous.
@DSmith88: Did this woman get paid to act like his girlfriend? Doesn’t that make her basically a prostitute?
@Puck_Slapper: Daaaaamn, bro. You’ve really lowered your standards lately.
I keep scrolling, knowing I shouldn’t but unable to look away from the vicious, hateful comments.
“Callie, baby.” Reese sits down on the bed next to me and extracts my phone as gently as he can from my hands. “Look at me. It’s okay. Look at me.”
“No.” I cover my face and try to control my breathing, but it keeps getting faster. “It’s not okay, Reese. What the fuck?”
I feel his arms wrap around me, his breath softly brushing my ear, but I can’t register what he’s saying. All I can think about are the comments on the article, the hateful words spewed by strangers. The cozy morning I was expecting to have has been completely derailed, and I feel like a rug has been yanked out from under me.
“Firefly,” Reese murmurs, his words finally filtering into my brain. “I’m so fucking sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“How did they find out?” I speak through my hands, my voice muffled and thick. “How could it have gotten out?”
“I have no clue.” His voice is hard, and his arms tense around me. He’s pissed. “Maybe someone overheard us talking about it or something.”
I drop my hands, my throat tight as I ask, “What are we going to do?”
He sighs. “I don’t know. I’m not sure there’s anything wecando. But I promise, I’ll do what I can to get the piece taken down, and to find out who the hell their source was. And it’ll die down soon, I promise. People will move on to the next thing. That’s how it always goes with these salacious tabloid stories.”
“I wasn’t ready for this.” I turn to face Reese, but I can barely see him through my tears. “I knew that people thought I was a step down from Sienna, but did you read what they’re saying about me? What everyone thinks of me?”
Pain contorts his features, and he cups my face in both hands. “Fuck. Them. It doesn’t matter what people think.”
I swallow hard as he wipes the tears from my cheeks, his thumbs patiently brushing away each new droplet that falls. He’s being so gentle with me, so tender, and it only makes the ache in my chest worse.
“It still hurts though,” I whisper. “Especially since… I’m not even really sure howyoufeel about me.”
The words come out before I can stop them. I wanted to push those feelings away, wanted to eradicate the unnecessary insecurity Sienna shoved at me last night, but after reading that article, after the shit posting and the trolls, it’s all bubbling back up.
“What?” Reese freezes, staring at me with a shocked expression. “What are you talking about? I think you’re amazing, Firefly, and I care about you so much. You know that.”
Emotion shines in his brown eyes, and he watches as I pull away from him and rise from the bed, crossing to the closet. I quickly tug off my pajamas, pulling on leggings and an oversized sweater. I feel like I need to be dressed for this conversation. I need the extra layer of armor.
“I ran into Sienna last night before the game,” I tell him quietly once I’m dressed. “She mentioned that she asked you once if you’d ever had feelings for me, and you told her I’m not your type. You told her ‘why would I want her when I have you?’ And I know she probably just said it to hurt me and get in my head, but… it did, Reese. It made me feel like I’m your sloppy seconds or something. Like some part of you will always want her back. Like you… settled for me.”
Reese’s face falls, anguish twisting his features. He stands up, raking a hand through his hair before he shakes his head.