Chapter 12 #4
Damned if he’s not right. I went through the media circus before, during my breakup with Nate. The more you try to convince people that something didn’t happen, the more the media spins a story, vicious in their quest to get readers despite the personal cost to the subject of the story.
“I may need a favor?” he says more to the floor than to me. He sounds unsure—like either he’s not sure if he needs a favor, or he’s not sure he wants to ask.
“Go on,” I suggest, and suddenly he’s rambling away in Italian. I’m pretty much fluent, but not nearly able to keep up with the speed of his rant. Something about a secret relationship and needing to protect his best friend Christian, and needing my help.
“Can you just . . . rewind and say that again, either slower or in English?”
“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”
“To protect Christian?” I am so confused.
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand,” I tell him, wishing I wasn’t so groggy because obviously I’m missing something here. “How does me pretending to be your girlfriend protect Christian?”
He gives me wide eyes, like I should understand and he shouldn’t have to explain it.
“Christian’s family is extremely conservative and also extremely Catholic.
His uncle is a cardinal. His family knows the Pope.
They are starting to be suspicious of all the time we spend together.
But if I had a girlfriend, they wouldn’t worry. ”
“Wait . . .” My stupid brain must not be working right because it sounds like Marco Antonio, who has been donned “God’s gift to women” by the Italian media, is secretly dating his male best friend? My eyes widen at the realization.
Suddenly about eighteen different memories from over the years click into place, like the enigma machine breaking a code deep in the recesses of my mind. I definitely should have seen this before, and I’m pretty sure I’m a terrible best friend for not catching on sooner.
“But, why do you want to hide this about yourself? There’s no shame in it.”
“I’m not ashamed,” he says, leveling me with a chastising look that has me regretting my word choice. “But if I come out, then people will put two and two together and Christian will be outed as well. His family would disown him.”
“So, you’ll just live this lie indefinitely?”
“I need to keep it a secret while I’m still racing, because if the media gets ahold of this info it will be really bad for Christian.
In the meantime, Christian is hoping his family comes to accept that this isn’t a huge sin, that it just is what it is.
And this fake relationship,” he says, gesturing between us, “this works for you too, Bella. As long as you assure them there’s no conflict of interest, your team can’t be mad that you found true love.
” He puts the two words in air quotes with a smirk that would have any other girl fanning herself.
“And you can focus on your career without the pressures of dating or the speculation that you’re still not over Nate. ”
I sink back in my chair, glad I was already sitting when he hit me with the low blow.
Because, as crazy as this sounds, he’s right.
The longer I go without seriously dating someone, the more the rumors spread that I still haven’t moved on from Nate.
I mean, you’d think the rumor mill would be small because the number of people still interested in a has-been skier and her ex-boyfriend, over four years after their breakup, shouldn’t be large.
Yet it’s always there. In interviews about my career, the questions about Nate are inevitable.
Every time one of my sponsors runs a new ad campaign featuring me, the comments are there on social media.
Last year I dated a pro soccer player for a hot second, and the instant we broke up the sports media were posting ridiculous stories about how we broke up because I wasn’t over my ex-boyfriend.
Really, the guy was just a terrible chauvinist and I was over it.
Me and Nate, we’re like a breakup story the sports world just can’t let go of until they get to the bottom of it, even years later.
And I get it. They want to know what happened, why he left, and where he went.
Hell, for a long time I wanted to know too.
Now I just want to put it behind me. And this might be my opportunity for a clean break.
No more speculation about me and Nate, just moving forward with Marco.
He’s right, this would be mutually beneficial.
And besides, the thing he hasn’t said—because he would never say it—is that I owe him.
After the accident that ended my career, Marco was the one who was there for me.
He flew out to Boston and stayed with me at my parents’ house during the off-season, while I was in rehab learning to walk again after having my pelvis bolted together in three places.
He stepped in where Nate should have stepped up.
Marco was there for me through every step of my recovery and in the years since.
I’ve cried on his shoulder more times than I can count.
I can do this for him.