Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ELLIE
I hear knocking at the door, but my eyes are glued to the device on my coffee table. I’ve been staring for so long I’ve lost track of time. It won’t stop.
I’m surprised it hasn’t died yet, given how long it’s been buzzing and perpetually lit up. Just an endless barrage of notifications. Calls, texts, social media alerts… Every time the screen goes bright I hit the button to make it stop. But then it just starts again.
It won’t stop. It won’t stop. It won’t stop.
“Hey, Ellie. I know. Here, I’m going to take this and deal with it, okay?”
I said that out loud? I’m startled from the tunnel vision I have on my phone when it gets grabbed by a large hand. I follow the motion and watch Nate pocket it before he sits on the coffee table facing me. How did he get in my apartment?
“You okay?”
I look at his pocket with my phone and shrug.
“Would it be all right if I hung out here for a bit?”
I shrug again.
“I’m going to deal with your phone and order some food, okay? Maybe we can put a show on?”
I nod this time and watch numbly as he grabs the remote and puts some sitcom on. He moves and sits on the other side of the couch, visible in my periphery. He must know by now.
Everybody is going to know.
People are going to want to talk to me about it.
They are going to have questions. I bet the media is going to have a field day.
Back when the accident happened, we got contacted by a lot of local and national news channels about doing interviews.
Being crushed by grief is one thing. But everyone wanting to talk about it was like having alcohol poured in an open wound.
I didn’t want to go over the worst day of my life again and again.
I didn’t want to talk about the famous players who killed her.
The league certainly didn’t do any interviews. They released one statement and that was it. One measly apology, on behalf of them and those two assholes.
Don’t even get me started on the legal ramifications. Thirty days in jail and a license suspension. Thirty days.
I don’t know what I wanted from the league or the judicial system, but it wasn’t that.
I don’t want to deal with any of this again. The attention. The feelings.
And now, with Matt, it’s just going to be even bigger. I wonder what he’s thinking.
I realize for the first time he might find this situation hypocritical. I got upset when he didn’t tell me about being a hockey player. And now he’s probably finding out I never told him the full story about my accident. About my mom. About the drunk hockey players. His colleagues.
The customary rage that accompanies thoughts of them flares, my hands balling into fists where they rest on my thighs. What if Matt knows them? What if he’s friends with them? Oh god, the thought makes me vaguely ill.
“Ellie?”
I turn to look at Nate. He’s looking at my lap. At my lack of response he glances up, sympathy plastered all over his face.
“Chinese okay?”
I nod and face forward again, bringing my legs up onto the couch. I pull them close to my chest and lay my head on my knees.
I should’ve known this was coming. I wonder how it got out?
Maybe I would know if I checked any of the hundreds of notifications on my phone, but I don’t think I’m up for that.
I knew it was a risk being with Matt, but I thought we were pretty careful about not being seen in public.
And I knew that wasn’t going to be realistic forever, but I didn’t think this was going to be a long-term thing at first and then…
Well, then I guess I’d been living in blissful ignorance.
Falling in love, my brain shouts. Was it worth it?
I close my eyes and try to think about something else. Anything else.