Page 73 of The Fantasy League
I had a guess, but hearing the words that they owned a freaking house together was a blow to the stomach.
Buying a house with someone wasn’t something that you did on a whim with one of your week-long hookups. It was something that acouplewould do—or at least one who had previously been together. One whonot onlyplanned to spend the foreseeable future together but was also okay with sharing a huge financial responsibility.
Because a beach house in Malibu… not freaking cheap.
What didn’t make sense, though, was the tabloids and Lea mentioning that he hadn’t dated anyone in years.
Maybe he’d been hiding a secret girlfriend that entire time?
And if freaking so, why didn’t he ask her to be his “fake girlfriend” or come out about their relationship to get the PR team off his back, huh?
I tried to gather my thoughts enough to say something back to Lea, but I was too stunned to even formulate words. Instead, I sat there open mouthed, staring at the countertop.
I thought I’d made it perfectly clear on Saturday that I was skeptical about their relationship, yet he didn’t have the decency to tell me they were meeting together just a fewhoursafter I left the next day?
Maybe they weren’t together and he was sorting out whatever crap was going on between the two of them so he could tell me what he wanted to say?
Jesus Christ, why was I making excusesfor him?
I was better than this. Ideservedbetter than this.
“Can you send me the article? I gotta go,” I replied to Lea after a few long moments of silence and quickly ended our call. I placed my phone face down on the counter and inhaled a steadying breath.
I refused to be taken for a fool by this man once again. Eight months I’d felt like an idiot because of him.Eight months!
If this article gave me even the slightest indication that he had been unfaithful, he would have to provide somerichexplanation to dig himself out of the hole that he’d dropped himself into.
Even then, I was doubtful that would be enough to convince me to take him back.
God, I hoped this was some sort of sick freaking joke.
I should’ve known from the beginning that our “relationship” was doomed.
TWENTY
SCARLETT
Sick.
I was going to be sick.
A notification pinged from my phone and I hovered my finger over the link to the soon-to-be-published Page Six article. A pool of nerves began to stir into the pit of my stomach.
I shut my eyes and expelled the breath in my lungs before peeling one eyelid open to find that the article hadn’t loaded yet.
A silent hope slipped from my lips, begging that I would be met with a 404-error message once the arrow on the screen finished spinning in a circle.
I waited a few more seconds before my eyes instantly grew wide as the article came into view.
I read the headline and my heart sank straight through the floorboards.
No, no, no.
Jesus Christ, tell me this was not happening. I reread the headline again to make sure that I’d read it right the first time and much to my dismay, I had.
Mr. Tight End, Abel Abbott, spotted on a private date with Los Angeles's elite fashion designer, Aera Chase! A close source to the league player said that the football star's relationship with Scarlett Sawyer has been “on the rocks” for a few weeks now and the couple mutually agreed to split. Click here to read this Page Six exclusive for more details and exclusive photos from the new couple’s fancy beachfront date night.
What. The. Holy. Hell.
