Page 117 of Try Hard
Soph had texted while Ophelia and I were standing in her parents’ kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, with the news that she’d, unsurprisingly, made enough mac and cheese to feed a village. Given that I figured we could all use a little comfort food, I’d asked Ophelia if she wanted to join us for dinner, and in that way that truly demonstrated just how safe she felt with me and our families, Ophelia floated the idea of us all having dinner together. In the midst of the chaos I’d never wanted to bring into her world, it was the most beautiful spark of hope and joy.
Now, she was sitting beside me at her parents’ dining table—one of those that could stretch out to accommodate more people—and, while she looked happier than earlier, I could see every bitof tension she was holding in her body. I hated being responsible for any of it, and I wanted to wipe all of it away.
I laughed at a joke my dad made, not sure my brain was fully comprehending his words. Mum and Dad had long since gotten over the slight oddness of being in the same room as each other, gathering frequently to celebrate or look after me and Soph. However, this time, it felt like they were here for Ophelia. They were probably here for me and the invasion of my privacy, the fact that I was going to be the one putting out a statement, but also for Ophelia. She was new to this circus. All I cared about was her making it out unscathed. The fact that my parents had shown up for me felt secondary to them showing up for her.
My mind ran over and over the statement I’d been forming. My suggestions ranged from the furious to the intellectual; the adoring Ophelia to the denial of our budding relationship. I knew I had to ask her what she wanted me to say, but I was scared that asking would make it all so much more real. She hadn’t been annoyed with me, more distracted by her fucking boss who’d thought it acceptable to call her tocash inon her newfound fame—as if she had any interest in fame. Even back in school, she’d cared little for popularity. People had liked her more than she realised, and I knew she’d been aware of the popularity my sporting prowess had granted me, but she hadn’t coveted it. None of our interactions had been her wanting that connection. I’d always liked that about her.
When you stepped back from the limelight, you thought all that stuff would go away, that people would stop feeling entitled to your life when your job wasn’t to be in the public eye. But, apparently not.
I’d never really dated publicly. And it wasn’t like I didn’t understand the fascination with Ophelia—I could barely keep my mind off her—but she deserved better than this whole mess. She deserved better than being torn apart by people I’d nevermet but who somehow felt entitled to my affections. Ophelia was the one who’d carried them for over twenty years now. She was the one who always would. I couldn’t wrap my head around strangers thinking they… possessed me.
Fame was really fucking weird.
I watched Ophelia in my peripheral vision as she set down her cutlery and slid her hands under the table. She’d barely said anything throughout the meal. That wasn’t entirely uncommon for her, but I could see the way it derived from her mind spinning a mile a minute, stressing, as opposed to her simply being reserved.
Every part of me wanted to reach under the table and hold her hand, but I had no idea if she’d want that. Would she find it comforting? Would it be too much at a table with our whole family around it?
As if she could hear my thoughts, she glanced away from Soph to shoot me a ghost of a smile. I was part way through returning it when her hand found mine. Soft and small and warm and perfect. She laced her fingers through mine like they were made to be there, and settled our hands on my thigh. I could practically feel the way my heart calmed instantly, my pulse slowing down at her touch.
“So,” Alistair said, looking sympathetically at his daughter before switching his gaze to me, “do we need to worry about finding the press at the door?”
Ophelia’s small intake of breath sounded sharp as her fingers clenched mine tighter.
I ran my thumb soothingly over her hand as I looked at him. “I don’t think so. I’m not that kind of famous.”
He laughed generously. “We’d understand if you were.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Same,” Soph shot, smirking in my direction. She didn’t mean it. She was just teasing to take the sting out of the entire situation. It was a valiant effort.
I laughed. “My agent thinks it will blow over quickly, but, if the press do show up, maybe just call Soph over and have her lecture them on how I’m a loser they shouldn’t care about.”
Soph performed an elaborate bow as best she could while sitting. “Happy to be of service.”
Alistair smiled but kept his eyes on me. “And you’re sure you want to put out a statement, not just let it blow over on its own?”
“I’m sure.” My voice was resolute. “I’ve put up with a lot of people overstepping boundaries over the years, but, it turns out, them going after Ophelia is where I hit my limit.”
The entire table reacted to my statement. Our parents all looked proud and impressed, while Soph faux gagged and muttered something about me being a sap—as if she wouldn’t do the same.
Ophelia, meanwhile, pulled our hands from my lap to hers. Her free hand wrapped around the back of mine, encasing me in her warmth.
I looked at her, trying with every ounce of me to convey just how much I would always look after her best interests above all else.
I hoped she got it.
“Well,” Dad said, sounding a little more emotional than I’d expected, “no matter what happens, you’ve got all of us in your corner.”
I laughed. “So, if I start dropkicking everyone making comments in the street…?”
“Perhaps a little extreme, but I’m sure we’d understand.” He smiled proudly. “We do what we have to for the people we care about. No matter where the chips may fall—or how many battles that brings us.”
Emotion swelled in my chest, cut off prematurely by the way Ophelia shot out of her seat muttering an, “Excuse me.”
She headed towards the stairs, seemingly heading for the bathroom, but I knew her better than that.
Nobody seemed to notice anything off, but I couldn’t not follow her.
