Chapter Eight #3
"My point is that you've served your purpose. Bella wanted to make me jealous, mission accomplished. Now it's time for you to step aside gracefully."
The delusion is stunning. "You think our relationship is about making you jealous?"
"What else would it be? Bella's too smart to actually fall for someone like you." Tanner leans back in his chair, completely confident. "She used you to get my attention, and now that she has it, she'll want to end things cleanly."
"Someone like me?"
"A hockey player with no real future prospects beyond college. Bella's planning for graduate school, for a career in investment banking, for a life that requires intellectual partnership." His smile turns condescending. "What could you possibly offer someone with her ambitions?"
Six months ago, that question might have destroyed me. But sitting here now, with the memory of Bella's hands in my hair and her voice whispering that she loves me, Tanner's words bounce off me like a weak slap shot.
"I offer her everything," I say simply. "Love, support, someone who sees her intelligence as the most attractive thing about her. Someone who shows up."
"How romantic. But romance doesn't pay for graduate school or build the kind of life Bella wants."
"Have you asked Bella what kind of life she wants? Or are you just assuming she wants the life you've planned for her?"
Tanner's confidence flickers slightly. "I know Bella better than you think."
"Do you? Because the Bella I know doesn't want someone who treats her like a prize to be won."
"And you think that's you?"
"I know that's me. Because unlike you, I didn't have to manufacture a crisis to get her attention. She chose me, Tanner. Actually chose me, without games or manipulation."
I stand up, suddenly tired of this entire conversation. "Bella and I are together. If you have a problem with that, take it up with her. But I'm done pretending your opinion matters."
As I walk away, Tanner calls after me. "This isn't over, O'Sullivan."
"Yes, it is," I reply without turning around. "It was over the moment she said she loves me."
Wednesday afternoon, I show up to the Undergraduate Research Symposium fifteen minutes early, wearing my best button-down shirt and carrying a notebook like I belong among the academic crowd.
But this time, I'm not here to prove anything.
I'm here because the woman I love asked me to be, and that's reason enough.
Bella's presentation is scheduled for 2:30 PM, and when she takes the stage, I feel the same surge of pride I felt watching her at the hockey game. She's brilliant and confident and completely in her element, and I get to be the person she shares this with.
"Consumer decision-making in digital environments," she begins, and I settle in to listen to the woman I love talk about something she's passionate about.
Her research is fascinating—complex and nuanced and exactly the kind of work that's going to change how people think about online marketing. During the question period, I raise my hand, but not because I've rehearsed some impressive question to prove my worthiness.
"I'm curious about the practical applications," I say when she calls on me. "How might your findings influence the way companies approach social media advertising?"
The question comes naturally, born from genuine interest in her work and hours of listening to her explain these concepts during our tutoring sessions. Bella's answer is thorough and enthusiastic, and when she finishes, she gives me a smile that's just for me.
After her presentation, I wait while she talks to professors and takes compliments from fellow students. When the crowd finally thins out, she walks over to where I'm standing.
"So?" she asks. "What did you think?"
"I think you're going to change the world," I tell her. "And I think any graduate program would be lucky to have you."
"Even if it means moving away from Seattle?"
The question hits me like an unexpected check, but I don't hesitate. "Even then. I want you to pursue every opportunity that excites you."
"What if I said I don't want to move away? What if I said I've been looking at graduate programs here specifically because I don't want to leave?"
My heart does something acrobatic. "Is that what you're saying?"
"I'm saying that my five-year plan has been completely rewritten by a certain hockey player who makes me want to take risks I never considered before." Bella steps closer, her hand finding mine. "I'm saying that whatever comes next, I want to figure it out with you."
"Even if it gets complicated?"
"Especially if it gets complicated. The best things in life usually are."
I kiss her right there in the lecture hall, not caring who might see us or what assumptions they might make about the hockey captain dating the economics star. Because this isn't performance art anymore—this is just us, finally real, finally honest about what we want.
"I love you," I tell her when we break apart.
"I love you too," she replies. "Now take me home so we can celebrate properly."
We walk across campus together, hand in hand. I realize tomorrow, I get to wake up and start building a future with the woman I love.