Chapter 23
23
Sydney
I ran for the bathroom. There was one on the floor of the arena which was reserved for guests only, but I stopped as soon as I saw the line. There would be people I knew in there. Women who were casual acquaintances, reporters, people who loved to share the tea with anyone who would listen.
I couldn’t go in there. I couldn’t let them see how wrecked I was.
Maybe he was changing his mind?
Like I was some toy he enjoyed playing with and he wanted to play with me a little longer.
Screw that.
I loved him. He had to know. He had to feel it every time I rubbed his back late at night when he started to get tired. He had to know how much of myself I was handing over to him every time we were in bed together. He had to see it every time I looked into his eyes. I showed him my music. My soul.
I did all of it knowing I was going to suffer when he walked away from me.
Having to swallow the sadness, so I could luxuriate in what I knew would be this brief period of happiness, was the price I paid. A price I accepted.
And… maybe he was changing his mind?
It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. That I couldn’t just be me and be enough. I had to come with all the right hockey wife accessories too.
“He doesn’t love me,” I whispered aloud, so I could hear it. I could acknowledge it. I stood there in the vast lobby, full of people, and I was completely alone.
“Sydney? Hey, you okay?”
It was Axil, coming out of the men’s room, a concerned expression on his face. Was I shaking? It felt like my stupid winglets were vibrating.
No, I thought. I wasn’t okay. I couldn’t go back there and sit next to Wyatt with a stupid fake smile plastered to my face. I couldn’t go back to the house in Malibu with him and wait for our natural conclusion .
I couldn’t pretend anymore.
“No, I’m not okay,” I whispered. “I haven’t been okay for so long.”
“Want me to get your husband?”
“He’s not…” there were a million ways I could finish that sentence, but the words that came out were “what I need right now.”
“You need a drink or something?” he asked, looking around.
I took a breath and it shuddered. “I could use a friend.”
He turned to face me and nodded, like he understood everything I wasn’t saying.
“You want to get out of here?” he asked.
“I don’t want to drag you away from-”
“All this bullshit? It’s fine. Let’s go, Sydney.”
Which reminded me why I’d had a crush on Axil in the first place. He was then, and still was now, a legitimately good guy.
He dropped his arm across my shoulders, which felt nothing like Wyatt’s, but was nice all the same, and we made our way through the crowd. He texted his driver to come around to one of the side gates to pick us up.
It wasn’t a limo waiting for us, but a darkened SUV. Axil opened the back door for me and I hopped inside. He followed and quickly shut the door behind him. And just like that, the rest of the world was gone.
I hadn’t brought my phone tonight. I didn’t have pockets or a purse. So I couldn’t even text Wyatt where I’d gone.
Did it matter? He’d go back to the Malibu house. Maybe he’d be gone by morning.
After all, it wasn’t his problem, it was mine.
I was the dummy who had gone and fallen for him.
Despite all the rules.
The Next Morning
Trouble in Paradise?
Photos emerge of Sydney Malloy heartbroken
after losing to Ellie Wheeler. Running back into the arms
of Axil Wheeler.
-Celebrity Truth
Hockey player’s heart breaks after
Newlywed wife finds comfort in her ex-boyfriend’s arms.
-Celebrity Truth
Was it all just a sham?
What’s the matter Sydney? Can’t make up your mind?
Sydney Malloy flakes on her new marriage to handsome
hockey player in pursuit of her first true love.
-Celebrity Truth
“You sure you don’t need something stronger than coffee?”
I looked up from Axil’s phone, where he’d shown me the pictures of us jumping into his SUV. His arm draped over my shoulders.
Two people who definitely looked like they were on the run from something.
I shook my head, numb inside.
Francine’s magical fairy bride dress was crumpled in a heap on the floor of Axil’s guest bedroom, where all last night I’d alternated between sobbing and telling myself that this was what I deserved for telling the truth.
I must have drifted off at some point, but woke as soon as the sun rose, with that deep gut sense of having lost something. Much like I felt days after gaining emancipation from my mother. Back then, I knew I’d done the right thing to protect myself, but it didn’t hurt any less losing something I’d loved.
Now it was even bigger. It felt like I was on the verge of losing everything.
It didn’t matter. Wyatt wouldn’t look at the social media posts, but maybe Liam would tell him that he was being made to look like a cuckold online. Because his brand new wife had fallen so quickly back into the arms of an ex.
Of course, he knew the truth about Axil. Knew it was innocent between us.
Maybe he would understand why I’d been so upset that I’d felt the need to run last night. Maybe not. I wasn’t sure it mattered.
The doorbell rang and I took one last sip of my coffee to fortify myself while Axil went to deal with it.
Axil’s place wasn’t huge. An adorable yellow bungalow, only a block off the beach, that actually looked a lot like mine. I was sitting at the kitchen island in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he’d lent me. The fact that we nearly shared the same waist size was somewhat alarming.
We had so much more in common than we thought, and after a night of spilling my guts out to him, I thought for the first time in a long time I had a friend. A real friend.
As soon as he opened the door I could hear the cacophony of cameras clicking, reporters shouting at him.
“Axil, are you and Sydney getting back together?”
“Does her husband know about your history?”
“How long has Sydney been cheating on her husband with you?”
What a slut they must think I am. Cheating on John with Wyatt. Cheating on Wyatt with Axil.
“It’s Beatrice.”
My relief was immense. Just the sight of her comforting, dear face made me cry fresh tears.
“Oh,” she said, and then, breaking a dozen of her rules of propriety, she crossed the room and pulled me into her arms. “It’s going to be alright, Sydney.”
But it wasn’t. Not really. Not for a while.
“I’ve come to take you home,” she said. “If you’re ready?”
I nodded and slid off the stool, where I’d been sitting. I went back to the guest bedroom to pick up Francine’s dress and slip back into the studded heels’ I’d worn.
The P&P’s were going to love this look. The headlines wrote themselves.
I came back into the living room where Axil and Bea were whispering, but stopped as soon as they saw me.
“I’m ready to go,” I said to Bea. “We can stop by the house to pack a bag but then I’m heading to New York for a while. Axil, please come and visit. We can talk more about your album. You’ll always have a place to stay with me, anytime. But I need to get away from California.”
“Sydney, you’ve got one very large, very angry man waiting for you back in Malibu,” Beatrice said.
“He’s still there?”
“He refuses to leave until you talk to him.”
I sighed and tried to find the well of strength I needed for this, but my well was empty. Maybe I didn’t need clothes? I could just leave Axil’s and go straight to the airport.
No. I was fighting my battles these days, not avoiding them. Not lying about them.
I walked to the front door, my hand reaching for the knob.
“Sydney, no,” Bea said. “We’ll have the driver come get us. I told him to bring umbrellas. No walk of shame for you.”
This game was exhausting, and I was done with it.
“I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Opening the door, the quiet outside exploded. There were maybe twenty or so paparazzi with cameras. Tricia from Celebrity Truth was there with a cameraman, which she had to resent because she would have had a late night covering the America’s Choice Awards.
Not my problem either.
Like a death march, I forced my feet forward until I stepped off Axil’s property line, onto the sidewalk where I was officially fair game. They swarmed around me, but Tricia got close to me first.
“Sydney, is this the end of your marriage to Wyatt Locke and will you be getting back with Axil?”
“No,” I said. “Axil is just a friend. And there is no marriage to end, because you know better than anyone, my marriage to Wyatt wasn’t real.”
Cameras clicked and whirled. There were other people shouting questions at me, but I focused on the camera aimed in my direction and spoke to it, rather than Tricia.
“A little more than four weeks ago, I met Wyatt Locke at a golf tournament in Las Vegas,” I smiled. It had been such a simple thing. A normal thing. Two people with undeniable chemistry. “I liked him. We had fun and spent the day together, then all night together. I drank way more than I normally do. We got caught up in the moment and did the thing you’re not supposed to do in Vegas. We went to this silly little chapel and got married. Of course we regretted it, but for the sake of my reputation, we decided to stay married for a little while. Obviously, that backfired. I didn’t cheat on anyone. Wyatt is a good man, helping me out of a situation simply because he’s kind. Oh, he will hate that I called him kind, but he is.”
There were some chuckles from the crowd, but I pressed on.
“Anyway if you could leave him alone? This wasn’t his fault, it was mine. That’s it. Nothing more to see here folks. The show is officially over.”
There were questions and demands for more details, but I pushed through the crowd. Bea was standing next to the car she’d arranged, the back door open and waiting for me. I hopped inside and shut the door behind me.
Beatrice handed me my fully charged phone and I texted Wyatt.
Me: I’m coming back to my house. I’d like you to be gone before I get there.
Immediately my phone rang. Of course, it was Wyatt.
I declined the call and texted him again.
Me: There’s no point. We have nothing to talk about. Good luck with your brother. Both of them. And good luck with the team next season.
Then I turned off my phone so he couldn’t reach me.
Wyatt and I were done.
This was the natural conclusion to our time together.