The realization didn’t startle me, but it was an odd time to come to it. I loved him for such different reasons. It was a second time around kind of love. A wiser, smarter kind of love, but head over heels love nonetheless.
I didn’t want to lose that, but I knew this would be a setback.
“We will have to say something. Make a statement. It will only get worse if we let it sit.” The PR guru inside of me began to work, the gears in my mind turning.
“No!” Killian’s voice was manic, and it ripped my insides apart.
The doubtful, broken girl spoke up inside of me. It reminded me that men were selfish, they took advantage of your emotions. It tried to remind me that I was supposed to be stronger than this, forging my own path, not letting the men I loved make decisions for me any longer.
“It will make our relationship and everything around it a circus. Please, Leah, let’s just keep this quiet a little longer. I saw what this did to me, after Eve. I know what it would make you do. You promised me before the party, we wouldn’t go public. I don’t want anything like that to happen ever again. Please.” His eyes pleaded with me as his hands kneaded the skin on my arms. “Please, can we just not draw any more attention to ourselves?
And even though every single fiber of my being was screaming at me not to do it, I nodded my agreement. Because I loved Killian so much, that I was willing to start sacrificing little pieces of myself.
* * *
Apparently, Killian did not feel the same way about me.
As April came to a close and the middle of May drew near, he pulled even further away. He’d become distant, avoiding my eye contact and conversation whenever we had to appear publicly together. I was heckled, cursed, mocked and every other possible thing you could think of by the media and the public alike. Each of his games I attended, which I still had to go to as it was my job, I was constantly asked about those pictures. And I couldn’t say a damn thing.
Killian wasn’t much better when we were alone. He had brushed off my advances the first few times, so I stopped trying altogether. We’d had a few good days, but those were few and far between, his moodiness and sullen attitude invading every aspect of his life.
Especially his game. He was disjointed and sloppy on the field, drawing a number of penalties in his last couple of games. He’d let multiple defenders slip him, and had even marked up three own goals in a month. His game was so off, and I couldn’t help but feel that it was my fault. He hadn’t necessarily said it, but I knew it was what he was thinking each time he looked at me now.
My finals loomed closer, which meant so did my departure date. I’d tried and failed all week to focus on them, locking myself in the apartment and attempting to drill the information into my brain. I had been doing okay all semester, but needed these to secure my average GPA for graduation. Nothing was working though.
I just kept thinking about Killian and how angry he was, how he wasn’t opening up to me and how this was all somehow my fault.
But then I’d internally yell at myself. Nothing about this was my fault, and he was an asshole for pushing me away just because we were in some hot water right now.
The other part of me, the one who said I should be standing up for myself right about now, was starting to punch me in the gut. No really, I felt a sharp pain there every time I conceded to something Killian wanted. I had let myself fall right into the life Taylor had carved out for me, only it was just a different city and a different guy.
I was pathetic. And currently making myself sick. I couldn’t do this much longer. Stay silent? Stay with Killian? I didn’t know. I was so in love with him that I only wanted to see him happy, for us to be just as happy as we were when we’d gone to Italy.
But now I didn’t think I’d ever get to tell him just what my feelings were. Or if he even felt the same. The whole situation was the fucking worst.
I sat in the stands at Cafsham next to Jimmy, trying to ignore the jeers and jabs that were being hurled my way from every section of the seats around us.
Because if it wasn’t bad enough that all of London, and Europe for that matter, was discussing my love life, Cressida Bennett had no sympathy for me either.
She’d called me in shortly after the pictures broke, informing me that I’d created this mess, again, for myself and that I would see it through. That it would give me character.
I either hated her guts, or took pride in her faith in me. Right now, I think it was the former.
Killian was playing like utter shit, again. And everyone knew it. It hadn’t helped make my case to the Windingham fans.
“Ignore them, love. This is Kill’s battle. He’s letting them get in his head, I saw the same thing after Eve died and the circus started up. He’ll make it through. Just have faith in him.”
Sweet, loving Jimmy. Who took all of the abuse Killian had thrown at him the past couple of weeks in stride and tried his best to get things handled. He’d done as Killian had asked, found the paparazzi who’d snapped the photos and they were being prosecuted, albeit slowly.
We still spent most nights together, our attraction towards each other pulling us like magnets. I couldn’t have said no to the sex even if I wanted to. Even if it made me pathetic. It was the only way he would allow me to be close to him anymore, even if it was just in the physical sense. When we were done, he would roll over and nod off. We didn’t cuddle anymore, we barely spoke, and especially not about the scandal or our relationship. I was a masochist, silently praying each day that this boulder of tension and awkwardness between us would lift, but doing nothing to make it happen.
I didn’t know if I had the patience to weather this storm. Or the time. I was leaving in just two and a half short weeks, and Killian and I hadn’t even discussed that. Would we just part ways when I left? Would he take that as his way out?
My heart stuttered and flipped. For some reason, I thought that would completely ruin me. The breakup of my five year relationship and future would be nothing compared to the devastation Killian Ramsey would leave in his wake.
The second half had been pretty uneventful. I yawned, closing my mouth when I thought about all of the people who were probably tweeting hateful pictures of me from the game.
The crowd began to yell, and I glanced down to see Killian sprinting across the field as if he was running over water. The ball bobbed in front of his feet, like a magnet or a string was connecting the object to his body and it just wanted to keep coming back from him.
“Go, go!” I started screaming, not caring enough to keep my demeanor calm over things that Killian did on the field.
One of the players on the opposite team charged him just after he reached the 18 yard box, sliding in and sending the ball sailing.
“Shit.” Jimmy sighed and sat back down.
All of a sudden, Killian was running back across the field, but he wasn’t heading for the person with the ball. He aimed straight for the player who had nearly side tackled him, jumped in the air, and kicked the guy in the back.
“What the ever-loving fuck?!” Jimmy screeched, seeing exactly what I just had.
The crowd collectively gasped, and then gasped again when the replay was shown over the big screen on the side of the stadium wall.
Killian was busy getting in the face of the defender who’d stolen the ball from him, who was currently writhing on the grass in pain. I made out the words cunt, bloody, worthless and more as they formed on his lips. I cringed, remembering the worst parts of him that had quickly emerged the moment I’d met him.
Killian didn’t see the referee coming over, the red card already pulled out his pockets. The fans started to boo, even though the ref was totally justified in handing Killian the ejection and three game suspension. I sighed, my stomach clenching in tight knots. He would not take this lying down.
The ref neared the two players, Killian and the defender, now on their feet arguing heatedly. The ref thrust his arm into the air, brandishing the red card for all the crowd
to see. The opposing team’s fan section burst into joyous screams and applause.
I saw Killian turn, glance up at the card in the air, and immediately redden. Not good.
He exploded. That’s all I could think of as he began shouting at him with such rage I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel. He ran over to where the ball lay nearby and punted it into the crowd, running over to the visiting fans and flicking up the middle fingers on each of his hands. Then Killian ran over to the visiting team bench and began spitting near the head coach.
Finally security subdued him, dragging him to the locker room kicking and screaming like a petulant child in the throes of a temper tantrum.
“Come on, we better go down to him.” Jimmy sighed, and I really didn’t want to follow him.
If Killian hadn’t been in any mood to see me these past couple of weeks, he certainly wouldn’t be now.
“Get her out of here.” It was the first thing he said when I walked into the locker room behind Jimmy.
I’d been expecting it, and yet it hurt like hell. Killian sat slumped on the bench in front of his locker, the same one he’d done dirty things to me on only months beforehand. Back when we were happy, or flirty, or something. Now he just looked defeated, and for someone so muscular and larger than life, he looked miniscule.
“Not only is she your bloody girlfriend, but she’s your publicist. Get your bloody stupid head out of your god damn ass!” Jimmy yelled at him and I jumped with surprise. Jimmy must have been at the end of his rope, because so far he’d done nothing but capitulate to Killian.
The man who used to be excited to see me raised his head, assessing us, baby blues holding so much pain and exhaustion.
“I just don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
I didn’t know if he was talking about football, if he was talking about the media circus, or if he was talking about me. Shivers ran all over my body, even in the steamy locker room, and I felt so close to being sick that I had to swallow down the sour metal taste that began circulating in my gums.
I didn’t know how much longer I could do this either. And one of us had to make a decision.
25
Killian
It was five years ago all over again.
Everything was too close. There was so much pressure pushing down on me that my body felt weighted, like I was looking up at the world while I was drowning on the ocean floor.
Italy had been a dream land. Alone with Leah out in the middle of nowhere, secluded. As I made love to her in the vineyard I'd been overcome with such a sense of completeness that I'd nearly told her I'd loved her right there as we climaxed together.
But that was before.
Before those pictures had leaked. Before my game started to slip. Before I'd been penalized and forced to sit out the rest of the season basically.
Before the entire world walked into my life and wouldn't get the fuck out.
I knew I was being a complete arse, that all the progress I'd made since Leah came into my life had been shot to hell. I knew that I was hurting her, and Jimmy, and my teammates. I knew I was only proving the tabloids and the media right.
But I couldn't help it. Something had shifted, there were splinters under my skin, and the only way to pry them out, to alleviate the pain, was to lash out or fire back. I was blind with rage and hurt, and I wasn't even sure why.
Yes, it was an invasion of fucking privacy on my solitude, my villa. I was pissed about that, but the pictures were already out, the only thing to gain from lawsuits was money.
I could have easily stopped this vicious onslaught if I'd just declared my feelings for Leah to the public.
But I just couldn't. The last time I'd attached myself so personally to one human, she'd left me. And then the spotlight had destroyed me.
It didn't matter that this time the one I loved was being destroyed right there with me. It only enforced my decision that I couldn't put our relationship out there.
And it made me doubt my feelings towards her that she wanted to go ahead and out us.
I was doing what I mostly did these days, flipping through channels on my couch with a tumbler of whiskey, trying to avoid anything to do with sports.
My thumb stopped clicking when a familiar face filled the screen.
"LEAH! LEAH! Is it true that you and Killian have been carrying on an illicit affair?"
"Miss Watson! Are you aware how unprofessional it is to sleep with your boss?"
"Leah! Are you pregnant? Is Killian going to propose?!"
The reporters launched questions at her as she ducked her head on the way out of Sainsbury. My gut clenched as I watched her, so afraid and vulnerable out there on the street. I had done this to her.
She was about to get into a cab when suddenly she whirled around.
"ENOUGH!" Her twang was so audible that it made my stomach drop to my toes. She only took that tone when she was about to go on a tirade. "Yes, Killian Ramsey and I have been seeing each other for most of the duration of my trip here. We do work together, and while I am acting as his publicist, things remain professional and focused. But we can't help who we fall in love with. I certainly couldn't. Killian is a kind, generous, all around great person, and we are lucky to have found each other. There is nothing illicit or taboo about our relationship, we are just two regular people who are trying to find a connection in this life. Now please, for the love of God, respect our privacy and leave us alone."
And with that she turned and marched to the cab as the cameras ran after the speeding vehicle down the street.
I sat in stunned silence. She'd gone ahead and made a statement. Without consulting me. Without thinking about what I would want.
Had she said she loved me?
A set of keys jiggled in the door and in walked my publicist, her blonde hair a bit frizzy from the rain. It was then that the anger came boiling to the surface.
"What the fuck is this?" I turned to the TV and pointed, my finger shaking as I stared at her, my jaw ticking with rage.
Leah set the groceries on the counter, the smile sliding off of her face, and indignant spark flashing in those green eyes.
"Okay, okay. I know I overreacted. But I couldn't keep living like this, Killian. You're miserable. I'm miserable. It wasn't getting any better. Maybe now they'll back off. At least we made some sort of statement, they won't just be speculating."
I could feel the blood pulsing in my ears. "And that was your decision to make, huh? You know, I had let the whole kit chaser thing go months ago, but now I'm thinking this was all some kind of plot. You just played the long game to sink your claws into me."
I knew I was spewing venom, but I couldn't stop.
Leah looked as if I had slapped her she'd gone so ashen. "Killian how dare you? That's so far from the truth and you know it."
I walked up so I was right in her face. "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. You've wanted to go public with our relationship since it started. What do you want from me Leah, huh? Money? The lifestyle? WHAT?!"
She started to cry, sad fat tears rolling down her elegant face, marking up her skin. "I just went on national television and declared my love for you. I love you, Killian. Why do you think I’ve put up with all of this for so long?”
“I don’t know why. There is nothing special here. We had a fling. It was convenient. You were around, you’re hot, you’re young. Come on Leah, you didn’t think this was going to be a forever thing right?”
My words stabbed me in my chest each time I breathed, but I had to push her away. The further I did, perhaps the more I could finally get this enormous weight off of my life.
“I’m too old for you. I don’t do the marriage thing, not anymore. And kids? Forget it. You’re the type of girl who wants all of those things. And I’m not the one to give them to you.”
Leah was very still and very quiet for a few moments. Tears silently fell down her cheeks. I could still feel the rage and spite bubbling under the surface, but I also felt m
y heart splitting in two. Losing her would surely make me the inhuman thing I’d been on the path to becoming before she stepped into my life.
“You are the biggest coward I have ever known in my life. You are a small, pathetic excuse for a man, and I feel sorry for you.”
Her voice broke on the last note and I turned around.
I didn’t say anything to her before she left. I only heard the door close quietly, and then my chest cleaved in two.
26
Leah
My seat shook from the turbulence, sending one of the ice cubes in my cup skittering out onto my tray table.
"Sorry about that folks, just an air pocket as we get back into U.S. airspace."
This time I was asleep. There was no music in my ears. All I had done the entire five hours of the flight so far had been stare out the window in a daze.
I hadn't been able to sleep for two weeks. I'd barely eaten. Hell, it had been a miracle I'd passed my finals and been able to pull myself together to make it to the 73Bulbs office one last time. At least Cressida Bennett said she'd give me a recommendation if I ever needed one.
I'd gone to London and accomplished what I had set out to do. I'd seen sights, formed a new identity, one I was really proud of, and got my career and future back on track.
The irony of it all was that I was flying out exactly the way I'd flown in; fresh off a breakup. The huge difference was that it felt like my heart had been physically ripped ventricle by ventricle from my chest. I was actually surprised each time I looked down, expecting there to be a massive hole gushing blood in the middle of my body.
Killian had gutted me the way Taylor never could have. Because what we had had been mature love. He'd let me grow, come into my own and spread my wings. He had held my hand but also challenged me when I needed it. We had been a unit, working together professionally and personally.
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