Riley
I stared at the words like they might disappear if I blinked too fast. The past, that fragile thing I had packed away with color-coded binders and locked behind professional walls, was breaking loose in the most public way possible.
The news hit fast and hard. Old photos, poorly scanned and grainy, popped up everywhere. Us in awkward poses from high school dances, blurry shots of us laughing on rainy days, and that infamous shot of Lucas stealing a kiss that had once meant everything. The headlines screamed “Love, Rehab, and Scandal.”
I felt my skin crawl as the news broke. Fury surged in me—hot, sharp, sickening. How could he let this happen? How could he be so reckless with something we swore we’d protect?
He knew the risks. He knew what it would look like. And still, he let the world in. Still, he let them spin our story into something scandalous.
The next day, I didn’t hold back.
“You really thought this wouldn’t blow up?” I snapped, slamming the door behind me. “You thought dragging me into this circus wouldn’t cost me everything?”
His jaw tightened. “It wasn’t supposed to—”
“Don’t. Don’t act surprised now,” I cut him off, my voice trembling but firm. “You put my name, my reputation, on the line without even asking me. You don’t get to look at me like that now.”
“Like what?” he asked quietly.
“Like I was the one who hurt you.” I stepped closer. “You made your choice. You chose the spotlight. You chose the world over me.”
He swallowed hard, something shifting behind his eyes—guilt, regret, maybe even grief. “I didn’t know choosing it meant losing you.”
I shook my head, hurt twisting in my gut. “It does.”
Without another word, I turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me. I needed space. Time. Anything but the tangled mess of past and present in his eyes.
I found refuge in the hydrotherapy room—the warm water a balm on aching muscles and an aching heart. That’s where he found me.
“I used to reread your old texts before games,” he said, sitting beside the pool. “They made me feel like I mattered.”
The confession cracked something open. I softened, just a little, but my walls stayed firm.
“I would’ve never made it to Madrid if we’d stayed together,” he whispered, voice rough with honesty.
His words hit like a punch to the ribs—true, maybe, but it didn’t make them hurt any less.
I nodded slowly, throat tightening. There was no fight left in me. Not in that moment. Just the weight of everything we never got right pressing between us.
He stepped closer. Too close. His breath brushed against mine. My heart thudded violently in my chest.
“Riles…” he murmured, his hand grazing mine. “I didn’t say that to push you away. I said it because I want to stay now. With you.”
I should’ve stepped back. I didn’t.
Instead, our eyes locked, every unsaid word hanging in the sliver of space between our lips. The tension twisted, electric. Our noses almost touched. His hand hovered at my jaw.
And just as our mouths were about to crash together—
The door slammed open.
“What the hell is going on in here?”
Javier Santos.
I recognized him instantly. Everyone did. Star striker. Media favorite. The kind of athlete whose name was always in headlines—sometimes for goals, sometimes for drama.
We jumped apart. My back hit the counter. Lucas stepped forward, shoulders tight, blocking me without saying a word.
Javier stood there like he’d just scored in front of a stadium. Designer suit, effortless swagger, and that signature smirk—the one that made fans scream and teammates grit their teeth.
“Didn’t know you were still in the business of fixing broken boys, Morgan,” he said, eyes flicking from Lucas to me.
I didn’t answer. Lucas didn’t move.
But the temperature in the room dropped fast.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t just two top-tier players running into each other. I’d heard whispers before—about tension, rivalry, bad blood. But this was something else. The way Lucas’s jaw locked, the way he wouldn’t look at me or Javier—it felt like something years old was boiling just under the surface.
Javier hadn’t come in by accident. And Lucas wasn’t just angry.
He looked betrayed.
And right now, I was standing smack in the middle of it all.