Chapter Nine
Lyndsey
I burst through the doors of the rink, not bothering to look behind me.
I don’t know what I need but I know I can’t be in there any more.
I didn’t want anyone to know. I kept this shit from my best friend even when it was weighing me down just for him to blab without a second’s thought.
Now not only does she know, I’m not the one who got to tell her.
The air is crisp but my lungs can’t seem to take a deep breath.
As I walk, I remember that Edge drove me here so I don’t have the sanctuary of my car to hide in.
I have no way to escape. Knowing Aiden will follow after me I dart around the corner, my bag slips off my shoulder but I don’t stop to pick it up.
My hair sticks to the sweaty skin of my neck. My clothes feel too tight.
I want it all off.
I can’t even see past my own nose through the fog in my mind.
I can feel everywhere my clothes are touching me.
I’m blinded by the sunlight. I can feel the hair that rests on my neck and I want to cut it off.
With every step I take I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. My knees buckle under me and I slide down the brick facade of the building to hide.
I can feel everything but there is nothing I can do about it.
I just can’t seem to move from my spot on the ground.
It’s as though my legs have locked into position.
I can feel heat prickling over my chest but there is nothing I can do about it even if I wanted to.
People think the fear responses are fight and flight but there are actually four.
Fight.
Flight.
Fawn.
Freeze.
I’m doing the latter. Every part of me wants to run, to take flight, but there is not even a twitch.
The only part of my body that I seem to be able to move freely is my head.
It rocks back and forth, lightly hitting the wall behind me.
The feeling is grounding, reminding me that I won’t float away.
The noise of children in the arena becomes a quiet hum in the background overpowered by the sound of my heart beating in my head.
Yet I feel myself instantly start to calm now that I’m out of the line of fire.
Now that my lungs feel like they can inflate again, my brain rushes with the reality of the panic I was consumed by.
My parents would be celebrating if they could see me now.
Married to a man, the perfect straight daughter they always dreamed of.
I know deep inside that just because I’m married to Aiden that doesn’t make me any less bisexual.
They wouldn’t see it that way. They would say that I’m over my little tantrum and that I’m making the choice to be straight.
I didn’t make any choice here. I don’t remember making the choice to marry.
I didn’t get to make the choice to get a divorce instead of an annulment.
I have no choice but to deal with Kayla sending me message after message on a constant loop.
Everything in my life has been decided for me over the past few weeks and I hate the way it feels.
Beside me the heavy metal fire door swings open and out the corner of my eye I see Aiden rush to my side but I make no move to meet his eye.
His knees hit the pavement in front of me and his hand comes up to cradle my face.
For a split second I see him hesitate as though he is worried I might pull away from him but he moves anyway.
He pulls me into his lap and I feel his shoulders relax under my tears when I lean into his touch.
His thumb rubs light circles on the side of my cheek and I can see his eyes scanning me to find some clues as to what he is supposed to do to help.
“Darlin’, what’s going on?” His voice is low, I suppose not to startle me, but when my eyes meet his, the tears fall even harder. He is looking at me like I’m broken and, in a way, I guess I am. The cracks I try so hard to cover are exposed to him.
“They already hate me. I just wanted to be enough. Why am I never enough?” My breath heaves between each word punching me in the gut.
“They are going to think they were right. They are going to think I lied. They already hate me.” It’s true.
I have never felt as much hatred as I did the day my father kicked me out.
I’m so overwhelmed that everything is pouring out of me: every time a little part of me has wondered if they were right; every dirty look I have been given when people have found out about my sexuality; every little thing that has knocked me down over the years – all of it is laid bare.
I’m talking about my parents, but I could also mean Kayla – she hated that I had dated men, and she might think she was right that my bisexuality was a phase now that I’m married to Aiden.
He tells me that I’m safe, mumbling against my hairline.
I rock in his lap gently as he tells me that everything is going to be okay.
He has no idea what I’m rambling about but he holds me steady, refusing to let me succumb to my spiralling thoughts.
When he left the house today, I highly doubt he thought I would be crying into his shirt… again.
Back when Ellis collapsed at work and had to leave for the hospital, it was Aiden who came to comfort me then.
He let me cry against him and held me together.
That was a big shift in our relationship.
It became less fun that day, we went from easy flirtation to him putting a solid wall between us.
Now here I am again, crying into his solid chest as though he is some saviour.
“My parents hate me, Aiden.” My words are spoken against the skin of his neck. He holds me tight enough to keep me together. I don’t mention Kayla, it would lead to too many questions.
“Nobody can hate you, darlin’.” He sounds so sure.
As though the thought alone is crazy to him.
It almost makes me laugh. The idea that this man who barely knows me would be so steadfast in his opinion of me.
He has only really seen the good. The light, fun mask I wear.
The one time he saw the cracks was when he pushed me away and, still, he is so sure of my goodness that he is angry at people he has never met.
“They hate me because I’m not straight.” My admission renders him speechless for a change. I take the moment of silence to look at him. I’m rarely this close to him, here I can see the light stubble on his chin. The way his eyes crinkle at the sides from where he smiles.
“Then I hate them for hating you,” he tells me, holding me tighter to him. The fierceness in his voice makes a small laugh bubble out of my chest.
“Stop trying to make me laugh.” Even though my face is still pushed against his skin I know he can hear the smile in my words. He puts a hand behind my head, pulling me out of his chest to see my face.
“I’ll never stop trying to see you smile, darlin’, it’s a sight too pretty to hide.
” He says it like it’s a determined truth.
The feelings I have for him are too confusing.
I know he is attractive, I have eyes, but I also do not want to be married to him.
I liked harmless flirting between friends but now?
Now I feel this burning anger whenever I look at him.
“At least this has taught me something,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down my spine.
“What’s that?” I hiccup out a reply, still struggling to get my breathing steady. Hating myself a little for being vulnerable with him. But he is here and he is soft so I’ll accept the comfort for a little while longer.
“That I leave you breathless.” He winks down at me and I can’t contain the small laugh that bubbles out.
“You’re not funny.” I slap his hard chest, trying to ignore the feeling of his muscles beneath my hand. I want to be mad at him.
“I’m a little funny,” he says, nudging me, and I do what I can to bite back the smile that is trying to burst through.
I know it isn’t entirely his fault that we are in this place.
I must have had some say in all this, but because I don’t remember it, it feels easier to put my emotions onto him.
He is a hockey captain, shouldn’t he be responsible enough to know not to get blackout drunk and married in Vegas?
Still, I know him better than that. He is a playboy, the one who is always flirting and putting a smile on everyone’s face.
He probably took it as his responsibility to make sure everyone was having a good time that night, it’s just a shame we had too good of a time.
I’m reminded of just why I’m mad at him and sitting on this floor after a panic attack when he opens his mouth again.
“Lyndsey, I know I’m asking a lot by asking to stay married but, please, for me, just hear me out.”
The sigh that flows out of me is filled with lingering emotion, but I nod for him to continue anyway.
“My dad was in the army, did you know that?” he asks, but when my eyes widen a fraction, he knows this is news to me, “He un-enlisted when my youngest sister Cece was born, said he wanted to see us grow up. But him and Mom died in a car crash years later, the night of my first college game. He had a will made, when my mom nearly died giving birth to my baby sister, I think he thought more about his morality.”
“Aiden, you don’t have to tell me all this. If it’s too painful you can stop.” I use my sleeve to wipe a stray tear away, I don’t think he even realised he was crying. I give him time to find his words and the chance to stop if that’s what he wants but he shakes his head before continuing.
“No, I want you to understand. God, I loved that man but he was hard work. He had kept all of his army stuff, his medals and things, the stuff he kept in his bunk, he put a stipulation in his will because he decided I hadn’t earned them.
” He sighs and for the first time I can hear how deeply tired he is.
Usually he wouldn’t let anyone see him sweat.
Everything is like satin flying over him but this is something real. Something he has grappled with alone.
“That’s fucked up,” I interrupt. I have been thinking so hard about how many choices have been made for me recently and here he is being commanded by his father from beyond the grave.
“He had this old-school mentality, that I’m not a man until I have my own family.
I tried to argue with my grandfather about it but that got me nowhere and now my grandfather is sick.
Alice, that’s my twin, she had to put him in a home because he was too much work for the three girls alone.
Now I get a letter from him that he wants to see his son’s army memorabilia before he dies, so he is demanding I marry to get my part of the inheritance.
” And now he is married. To me. Yes, it might not be a love connection but in the eyes of the law he is my husband, our marriage certificate would be enough to get his dad’s stuff, but without me there to back it up everyone would question his intentions.
It might sound crazy but I’m considering helping him.
I know it would be wrong lying to his family, but I hate that he feels like this is his only option.
I want some control over my life and this feels like a good way to get it.
If I stay married to him and we tell the public, well, that would mean Kayla would find out and it might be the final nail in the coffin of her leaving me alone.
There is always the chance she would harden her efforts but if I have Aiden on my side, I could ask him to talk to her without it looking like I’m getting a man to save me. I’m getting my husband to save me.
Then there is the fact Aiden isn’t the type to ask for help. He never lets anything get to him, every problem is like water off a duck’s back, and yet he needs me now. As long as we are both benefitting from it then maybe it would be worth it.
“I’ll do it.” I don’t even think about the words.
My mind is filled with images of him having to bury his grandfather without getting to grant his dying wish.
My family don’t care about me but I know he doesn’t have that same problem.
He loves his sisters and I can hear how much he loved his parents.
Now I have the power to make a family happy in a way I could never make mine.
“Lyndsey—” he starts, but I interrupt him again.
“No! He shouldn’t have kept that stuff from you.
We can stay married, they have to give you what’s yours.
” I’m enraged on his behalf but more than that I’m determined.
Some good might be able to come from our drunken marriage; I just have to make sure I don’t get myself hurt in the process.
“Can you make me one promise?” I ask, ignoring the way his lips press against my hair.
“Once it’s over, when we have your stuff back, you have to let me go.
We will divorce and stay friends. I can help you, I’ll help you, but I can’t stay married to you. ”
“What’s in this for you?” he asks, his voice filled with wonder as though he can’t believe I would agree so easily. I know that I shouldn’t but I know we can make this work. As long as we don’t kill each other before we pull it off.
“Let’s just say I could do with a partner of my own,” I tell him.
Hopefully I won’t have to tell him about Kayla and, if I do, well, I’ll wait until I’m out of other options.
I think me actually moving on will show her that we aren’t meant to be together.
She might try to fight it but I know deep down she will see me being married to a man as a big enough betrayal that it could be the final push she needs to let me go.
“Okay, if that’s what you need. That’s what we will do,” he tells me, silence settling between us both.
I don’t rush to leave his lap, I want some comfort and he is giving it so willingly that I can’t help but soak it up.
After today though, once our marriage is public knowledge I won’t do this again.
Take comfort in my reluctant husband. Even if we need to prove it to everyone else that doesn’t mean we have to be any closer than we have to be.
I inhale sharply, considering my next words, because they even manage to terrify me.
“We need to speak to Cassie… and the press.”