Page 118 of Scoring Lessons

Awesome. Because traveling last-minute to cover tonight’s game hadn’t been bad enough.

I didn’t get paid enough to deal with the disorganization this team had, but I needed the job. So here I was, once again.

I heard the elevator doors open, and high-pitched laughter filtered through, but I didn’t care enough to look.

“Jack.”

My ears perked at the sound of my boyfriend’s name, and I frowned.

The woman giggled. I recognized her voice but couldn’t place it. “You said we were only going to have breakfast. We work tonight!”

“Come on, Erica.” That was definitely his voice. “You know you’re my lucky charm.”

What the hell was happening?

She giggled again. “Fine.” The sound of a door lock beeping was the last thing I heard before they stepped into the room.

They’d been so wrapped up in each other that they hadn’t even noticed me.

I stood in that hallway for a long time.

Long enough to run through every reasonable explanation and watch them dissolve one by one until there was nothing left but the obvious one. The one I’d been avoiding for probably years at that point.

I sat down against the wall beside my door, my key fob useless in my hand, and I waited.

An hour or so later, the door opened.

Jack stepped out, still adjusting his collar, his jacket slung over one arm. He was looking back into the room, saying something low I couldn’t make out.

When he turned, he found me staring at him dead in the eyes.

He went very still. “Olivia.” His tone was careful. The voice he used when he was deciding how to turn this against me. “What are you⁠—”

“Save it.” My own voice surprised me. How level it sounded.

Something moved across his face. You’d think he’d look guilty, maybe feel some remorse. But I’d learned a long time ago that Jack didn’t do guilt. In his world, he was always right.

“Someone from work?” I said it more like a question, still unable to believe it. Right under my nose the whole goddamn time. “Are you being for real right now?”

His jaw tightened. “You want someone to blame? Look in a fucking mirror.”

The laugh that slipped out of me didn’t sound like mine. “Don’t you dare make this about me.”

“This is what you get for being the way you are, Olivia. You’re detached. You never let anyone in.” His voice was flat, unbothered, like we were discussing a scheduling conflict and not seven years of our lives.

My throat was tight. I kept my face still. “So that’s your excuse.”

“Can you even blame me?” he scoffed. “No one is going to want that,” he replied, completely ignoring what I’d said. “No one’s going to want you. Not the way you are. You’re unlovable.” His shrug was casual, like he wasn’t turning my world off its axis. “I only stayed because you were an easy choice. Someone to keep around in the meantime.”

When he didn’t get a reaction from me, he smiled, satisfied, like he knew he’d made his point, turned and walked toward the elevator without looking back.

I was left in the hallway alone, studying the burgundy diamonds in the beige carpet, listening to the hum of the ice machine, and I told myself the burning behind my eyes was anger.

But it was more than that. I was frustrated because even though I’d just heard something so cruel, I knew there was some truth to it.

I knew that somewhere underneath everything, I was hard to love. I just hadn’t realized I’d been using it as a reason to settle.

That was why I’d stayed for so long. Because some part of me had decided early on that Jack was what I deserved. That someone who tolerated me was enough.