“Mallory and I were talking...” She wavered, became soundless. She cleared her throat. “Mallory assumed you’d told me.”
“You never corrected her.” Bitterness seeped into his tone.
“You should’ve told me,” she countered brusquely, as if she were the injured party. As if she had the right.
“Why? So, you could tell my agent, my coach, the rest of my family? Ruin my life.” His anger rolled toward fury. “Wait. You already did that.”
She flinched. Her voice never trembled. “I was only trying to protect you.”
“Why?” He lashed out. “You aren’t even my real wife.”
Their audience gasped. Or perhaps that was the shocked cry of his mom. Or Mallory’s sharp inhale. Anything decent left inside Chase shriveled and faded. His career was most likely over and he’d exposed their deceit. Thrust Nichole into the lion’s den without protection. He really was a bad guy—selfish and cruel. She deserved so much better than him.
“You’re right. I’m not your real wife.” She shot up and out of the chair, rigid and proud. Her gaze uncompromising and resolute. “I’m only the woman who loved you before all this. And the woman who loves you now, faults and everything included.”
She couldn’t love him. He barely even liked himself. A chill rooted into his core; ice-coated vines extended the incessant cold to every part of his body. His voice, even to his own ears, sounded frigid and detached. “This was all a farce. One elaborate lie.”
Elliot’s deep curse rumbled through Chase. Travis closed his eyes, his hand curled into a fist on the table. Ivy pressed her hand over her mouth; her gaze skidded away from him. Disappointment, so much disappointment, flowed from his family and friends. Betrayal, not warmth, poured from the outdoor propane heaters around the patio. And Chase flatlined to a new low. A new rock bottom. He’d betrayed them all. Betrayed those he’d loved the most.
The handful of reporters Chase had noted mingling within the crowd swooped in, alert for the unfolding drama.
“Was it?” Nichole’s gaze never wavered.
Chase rose and kept his focus on her. Only her. Don’t love me. Please. Don’t. Love. Me. “Yes. One big publicity stunt like I always do. It was only ever about me.”
But it could’ve been about us. If he was any other man. A better man. The kind of man she deserved.
His words aimed true. The illusion shattered. Sadness cracked through her gaze. Her shoulders stiffened. Her chin tilted up. She turned, set her diamond ring on the table. “My sincere apologies, gentlemen.” She shifted again. “Nonna.”
Only then did her voice crack. Only then did something splinter inside his own chest. If he recognized his heart, he’d have considered it broken. But that would’ve meant he’d fallen in love too. Impossible.
Nichole walked away, linked her arm through Brooke’s and never looked back.
Chase sidelined his own pain. Sidelined his concern for Nichole and his regret. They’d always planned to break up. Their plan was never supposed to be long-term. That chill overtook him. He’d been cold after his father had left. Empty and cold. Now the chill was sharper. More biting. The emptiness even more stark. Chase was more like his father than even he could’ve ever imagined. And it appeared the son had become the father after all.
He buried his heart and embraced the incessant cold and the man he’d always feared he was. Then he faced the table and focused on the only thing he knew: damage control to save himself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHASE AND NICHOLE’S pretense had been exposed, along with her heart.
Nichole turned her cell phone to silent and dropped it on her kitchen counter. Calls from reporters requesting a statement now outpaced calls from her friends and family. Several calls had come in from Vick and Glenn, no doubt requesting a meeting to cancel their agreement. After all, what company wanted to invest in a known liar?
Last night, she’d mentioned Chase’s shoulder injury to Mallory, wanting only to ask Mallory about other methods to ease his constant pain. Something else for Chase to try beyond physical therapy to help his shoulder heal. Nichole grimaced and replayed the conversation:
Mallory had scowled into her wineglass. “Chase will heal only after surgery, as you probably already know.”
She hadn’t known. He hadn’t trusted her enough with that particular piece of information. “I don’t know when the surgery is.”
“Neither do we.” Mallory had directed her scowl at Chase across the pool, who’d been laughing and joking around with his teammates. “He keeps putting it off.”
Nichole had stammered, “W...why?”
“Why else?” Mallory had flung her hand out. “For football. It’s always about football.”
“But he can’t play injured.”
Mallory’s gaze had dimmed, a grim shadow had crossed her face.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“He might not be able to play even after surgery.”
Nichole had pressed on. “But what if he plays anyway?”
“Then he risks permanent damage. Damage that can’t be repaired by a surgeon’s scalpel.”
Nichole had blanched. Her arrangement with Chase concluded upon their finalizing their individual contracts. Once Chase signed his extension with the Pioneers, Nichole would no longer be useful. No longer be with him. That had been the terms of their agreement—an amicable split to pursue their own goals.
She’d panicked, not wanting Chase to risk a more devastating injury on the football field. She’d only wanted to protect Chase. Only wanted to find someone to reason with him.
She’d located Travis and Elliot. Thanked the sports agent for his hospitality and Elliot for his friendship. Travis had expressed his hope to have good news for them both the following week regarding Chase’s contract extension, giving the happy couple another reason to celebrate. Nichole had requested the celebration wait until after Chase’s surgery and stunned both men into silence. From there, an undercurrent of tension had washed across the outdoor patio.
Nichole had accepted Chase’s anger, but not his dismissal. Or his firm declaration that everything between them had only ever been a lie.
She’d always protected those she loved. She wouldn’t apologize.
Movement in her backyard caught her attention. A familiar
