BETTSY
I guess I was secretly hoping Johnny would take an early night, because when he answers after a three solid knocks, my heart drops into my stomach.
He studies me, eyes narrow, before he greets me.
“Hey, Cap. Do you mind if I come in for a sec?” I shove my hands into my pockets and will myself to maintain eye contact.
This is it. Time to come clean and tell the only person whose opinion really matters to me, perhaps apart from my mam.
“What’s going on, bud?” he asks, checking the time on his wristwatch. “Is everything okay?”
He beckons me inside and I slip my trainers off, setting them to the side before following him to the living room.
It’s quiet, and I spot a book open on the coffee table, cover face up, like he was reading, and the guilt of ruining his night creeps in.
“Where’s Kel?” I ask.
“Sleeping,” he says.
“Right, yeah.”
“Well, what’s going on?” he says. “Is this something to do with the game?”
“Nah.”
“Langer?”
I grit my teeth, flopping down on the sofa and reaching for a cushion—hugging it to my chest.
“No, but that’s something else I need to figure out,” I say. “I’m not sure what Coach was thinking, but I don’t think we’re a good match.”
Johnny sits on the arm of the adjacent chair, leaning forward to look at me. “I actually beg to differ. But since that’s not what you’re here to talk about and we have an early practice—let’s not keep either of us from our beds. Is this about the forum?”
I shake my head.
“This is really difficult for me,” I begin. “But I need you to know I didn’t think things through, as per usual, I guess, and now I’m in a bit of a mess.”
“Ah. So this is about your fake wife,” he says.
Ah, shit.
I swallow down a lump, braving a glance in his direction.
“Danny told you?” I ask, sheepishly. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“No, my sister did. She told me about the stuff with Coach and whatever, and I figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” Johnny says.
“Vicky,” I scoff. “Of course.”
“Yeah, I think she’s expecting you to tell Coach the truth, though,” he says.
I groan into my hands. And then I fill Johnny in. I tell him everything—almost everything.
From the trip Ellie made when she was eighteen to when she showed up earlier today, cutting out the sex bit, because I don’t want Johnny thinking of me how I already think of myself.
“Well, shit,” Johnny says once I come to a close. “So, you really are married? Does your sister know?”
“Well, we think so. I need to look for some paperwork or something. But no, Kelly doesn’t know and you’re not going to tell her,” I say.
Johnny raises his eyebrows. “That’s rich coming from you.”
I sigh, resigned to the fact that I’m going to have to tell her myself sooner rather than later.
“I need to tell her. I’ll call her tomorrow,” I say.
Johnny nods. “So, what happens now?”
“I tell the guys and then Ellie comes along to a couple of Team GB functions. Simple. ”
“Yeah, but people will start asking questions if she’s only socialising at those events.
What about our stuff? We’ve got that testimonial night coming up, not to mention the end of season celebration.
All that’s happening before the Team GB stuff kicks off properly—aside from the welcome event.
The GM will notice if there’s no consistency and people talk.
You can’t have this double life in the hockey world. You know that’s not how it works.”
And of course he’s right. My shit show advances from a onetime performance to a national tour. And what’s worse? I’m going to have to change the goalposts for Ellie, and I’m not sure how she’s going to take it.
We agreed earlier that she’d support the Team GB stuff—whatever I needed on that part. But my league team? I’m not sure if that’s too ‘ relationshippy ’ and I’m not sure what she wants—how much she wants.
I exhale, letting out a groan as I do.
“This is it,” I tell Johnny. “This is how I’m going to die. Death from lack of forward thinking… the stress of it all.”
“Well, where does Ellie live?” Johnny asks. “Is she local?”
“She has a place back home, but this whole drama kicked off with her sister and their beauty salon and?—”
“Oh, don’t tell Vicky she’s a beautician,” Johnny laughs. “She’ll never leave her alone.”
“Hairdresser,” I say.
Johnny nods.
We spend the next half an hour mulling over my woes, trying to figure out how this can actually work, but I’m no further forward from the plan Ellie and I already have—apart from the fact that I have to convince her to come to several more things than she was originally expecting.
“Well, I guess I’ll sleep on it,” I say, standing.
Johnny rises too, patting me on the shoulder and giving me the most pitiful expression .
“Betts—do me a favour, will you? Don’t get emotionally invested. Because if this is just something for her to pass the time, the last thing you want to do is catch feelings.”
“Feelings? Nah, don’t worry about that,” I say.
But I fear it’s already too late.
I get back to my apartment and settle myself on the sofa for the night, not wanting to wake Ellie up or assume because we slept together, she’d be comfortable sharing a bed.
I pull my phone out and navigate to the team group chat, hovering my fingers over the keyboard as I pick my words because there’s no way in hell I’m telling the guys in person, face to face—eyes on me as they judge; a text will do to break the news.
I take a breath, navigate away and scroll socials for a bit before finding the confidence buried within me. The confidence I need so desperately.
Bettsy
Just wanted to let you all know I got married.
I stare at the words, then tap delete, clearing the text.
Bettsy
Guys … good news. I’m married!
I delete that too.
Then I try for a third time.
Bettsy
FYI. I got married.
Yes, she exists.
No, I didn’t pay her.
Yes, she knows what she’s signed up for (I think).
No further questions at this time.
But now you know.
I realise there’s no simple way of putting it. And with any luck, no one will read it until the morning, and I can save the ridicule until tomorrow?—
Ah shit.
There’s an influx of replies; my phone buzzing in the palm of my hand as the messages stream in. But I don’t read any. There’s a noise from the hallway that draws my attention away.
I crane my head to see Ellie standing at the threshold of the living room.
She says nothing. She simply pads over to the sofa and pulls back the fleece blanket. Then she squeezes herself onto the cushions next to me, pulling my arm around her.
And it’s everything. Everything I didn’t realise I needed.
Validation. Wanting.
Ellie.
“I’m really sorry I missed your game, Mike. And I know you said you didn’t want that to be the memory of my first game, but I’m really proud of you. Win or lose. I’m really proud. ”
And all I can do is kiss her head and squeeze her, pulling her in as close as possible. Because no one outside of my family has ever said that.
Especially not Rochelle.
But hearing it from Ellie is something really fucking special to me. So much so, I don’t realise I’m crying. A single tear trickling down my cheek as I feel a different kind of something for the first time ever.