Page 76 of Goal Line
“I’ll bet.” She adds nothing else, just watches me, waiting for me to keep going. I’m tempted to stare right back, just to prove that I can do that as well as she can, but what would that accomplish? If I’m going to push through my issues on the ice, I need to push through my complicated feelings about Eva and figure out why I’m not able to compartmentalize them while I’m playing, whereas I can do that with everything else.
“We actually got married last weekend.”
“Oh?” The slight tilt of her head as she responds is the only indication that this information surprises her, which annoys me, even though I realize this is just her way of keeping me talking. When I don’t respond, she says, “What made you guys decide to get married?”
“She wasn’t sure about her health insurance if she had to take a break from skating and didn’t want her mom and dad to know the circumstances of her pregnancy.”
“Those are her reasons. What are yours?”
I lean back in my seat and glance at the door again. “She’s my best friend. I’d do anything for her.”
“And you did this purely for altruistic reasons, based solely on platonic friendship?”
My laugh is practically a snort. “Maybe not solely.”
“So what were your reasons?”
I run my fingers through my hair, pushing it off my forehead. “Well, at the time, I thought I was just being a good friend.”
“And now?”
“Now, I realize that I am undeniably, irrevocably in love with my wife.” I don’t mean to say that, but it slips out of my mouth as soon as the words go through my head. It’s not like I haven’t known for years that I was in love with Eva. It’s just that its something I, up until recently, assumed I’d eventually outgrow, like you outgrow most things from your childhood.
“Normally, that wouldn’t sound like much of a problem.”
“Except she’s not in love with me.”
“That’s . . . a lot to process. No wonder you’re here.”
“Yeah,” I say on a heavy breath.
“I’m not a marriage counselor?—”
“That’s good, because we’re not really married.”
“I thought you got married this past weekend?”
“We did, but just for the reasons I mentioned—not because it’s arealmarriage.”
“So, how long are you planning to stay married, then?” she asks.
I shrug in response. “We didn’t set an end date.”
She just looks at me like she expects me to say more.
“We can’t get divorced. We’d never do that to our families.”
“Are you sure that’s why?”
My jaw tics as I clench it, and I can see in the video howtense I look. “Why else would we have decided to stay married?”
“I don’t know. Why would you have? You said you’re in love with her...”
“Right, but she’s not in love with me.”
“And you’re sure about that?”
If she’d asked me this question a week ago, I’d have been more confident in my answer. “Yeah.”
