Page 48 of Between the Ropes

I nod again, pretending like that settles something inside me.

It doesn’t.

I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, needing a second to clear my head. But the moment I push open the door, I freeze.

Chrissy.

She’s standing near the mirror, reapplying her lip gloss, and the second she spots me, her entire demeanor shifts. That fake, overly sweet smile disappears, replaced with something sharp and calculating.

“Well, well, well,” she says, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. She flicks her long blonde hair over her shoulder, eyes sweeping over me with disdain. “Guess things between you and Ryan didn’t last long, huh?”

My stomach drops, but I school my expression.

Chrissy smirks. “Haven’t seen him tonight. Seems like I’ll be getting that call sooner rather than later.”

Something inside me snaps.

I narrow my eyes, arms crossing over my chest. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to get jealous?”

She laughs—a mean, condescending sound—and takes a slow step toward me. “Sweetheart, you don’t get it, do you?” She tilts her head, mock sympathy dripping from her tone. “Ryan doesn’t break things off himself. He just disappears when he’s done. I figured you’d last longer, but hey—you wouldn’t be the first.”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut.

I know exactly what she’s doing. She’s trying to get in my head, trying to make me doubt everything between Ryan and me.

But why haven’t I heard from him?

I hold her gaze, refusing to let her see the cracks forming in my confidence.

“I’m not worried about that,” I say smoothly, keeping my voice calm. “Ryan and I are good.”

Chrissy just snorts, giving me one last once-over before flipping her hair and strutting toward the door. She’s already decided she’s won.

The second the door swings shut behind her, I finally breathe.

I grip the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection.

Do I believe her?

No.

But the seed of doubt is planted now, sinking its roots in deep.

I glance down at my phone, my hands trembling. Before I can talk myself out of it, I type out a text.

Are you awake? I don’t think I want to spend the night at the hotel anymore… I just need to see you.

I hit send, my heart hammering.

I stare at the screen, waiting.

Three dots appear.

Then they vanish.

My stomach twists.

I inhale sharply, forcing myself to pull it together.

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