Page 69 of Perfectly Faked

Her lips tighten, and she hesitates. “They didn’t give me a choice, Leo. They’ve always wanted me to focus on my skating career. By college, they’d invested tens of thousands of dollars in lessons and coaches. When they saw that I was spending so much time with you, they gave me an ultimatum. They made mechoose.”

“Between me and skating?” I finish for her.

“No.” Her eyes dart away. “There’s more to it than that.”

“More to it than just bulldozing your way to the top—no matter who you leave behind?”

She doesn’t respond, but the way her gaze falls to the floor says enough.

I nod. “That’s what I thought.” She wanted a career more than me, when I was ready to give up everything for her.

“Leo, I know you won’t believe me, but I did it for both of us,” she says, her voice barely audible. “And I’m the one who had to live with the regret. I should’ve chosen you.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

leo

She should’ve chosen me?She leaves me with that one sliver of hope before I spend the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed, the weight in my chest growing heavier with every sleepless hour.

Of course, I was never enough in the eyes of Victoria’s family. But knowing that doesn’t make the shame from my past any easier to carry. In some twisted way, it feels like I’ve become the parent now, trying to drag Tina back to solid ground, only to fail miserably at every turn. Her failures feel like mine, and I don’t know how to handle losing. It’s the reason I play so hard on the ice, why I walk around with this chip on my shoulder. It’s a broken piece of me I’ve never been able to fix.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve mastered, it’s ruining the good things in my life before they have the chance to stick. Especially when I’m afraid I’ll get rejected all over again.

As I sit on the edge of the bed and drop my head in my hands, my foot bumps a box under the bed. I lean over and pull out alarge shoebox—one I don’t want to open, because I know it will only bring back too many memories.

Muffled footsteps pad across the hall, and when I look up, Victoria is standing in my door, framed by the faint glow of moonlight behind her.

“What are you doing up?” she asks.

“Can’t sleep,” I say, trying to make it clear I’m in no mood for another argument.

She nods toward the box. “What’s that?”

I quickly shove the box under my bed. “Something I should’ve thrown away a long time ago.”

She frowns slightly. “Oh, really? Can I see?”

“No,” I shoot back, kicking the box with my foot so it slides farther underneath. “It’s private. And my bedroom is off-limits, remember?”

She frowns slightly. “Well, okay, then. Guess I’ll head back to bed.”

As she starts toward her room, I notice she’s wearing my hoodie, her bare legs peeking out beneath the bottom. My pulse kicks up, even though I’m supposed to be mad at her.

“I still want my hoodie back!” I call after her.

She turns to look over her shoulder. “That’s why I’m wearing it to bed, so you couldn’t steal it while I slept. Next, I’m going to take your jersey.”

“And you should really put something on those legs,” I add in a disapproving tone.

“Hmm, I remember someone made me promise not to wear my two-piece pajamas around the house,” she says, then shrugs innocently. “Your hoodie conveniently solved that problem.”

“You would use my hoodie against me,” I mutter under my breath.

She tilts her head. “You don’t seem in the mood for sleep.” She tucks her hands into her pockets.

I stand, following her into the hall. “Not when someone I care about thinks I’m angry at them.”

“You think I’m angry?” she says gently, her eyes wide. “I’m not. Are you still upset with me?”

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