41. Anthony

I hadn’t been this nervous since the first time Simon had picked me up after he’d moved out. This was a different kind of nerves, though. Instead of worrying about the eggshells I was walking on, I was nervous about the bomb I was about to drop.

As I slid into the passenger side, my stomach roiled and my heart pounded. I couldn’t look at Simon. I didn’t want to talk about this—not now, not ever—but I needed to.

So, before we’d even reached the 520 bridge, I took a deep breath. “Listen, um…” I played with the edge of the seat belt to occupy my hands. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Simon glanced at me, eyebrows up. “Can’t do what?” The unexpected note of hopefulness in his voice made me wince. Probably should’ve worded that a little differently so he didn’t read the wrong thing into it.

As gently as I could, I said, “I can’t keep pretending we’re together.”

He straightened, hands tightening on the wheel. “What? Are you—do you want to go public that we’re not?”

“Yes.”

“Are you insane?” he barked. “Don’t you remember what they told us? You can’t just blow this open and—”

“What difference does it make to you?” I snapped. “We both know I’m the one who’s going to end up punted on to another team or shipped off to the minors.” I rolled some painful tension out of my shoulders. “At least this far ahead of the trade deadline, I might land somewhere decent and the Bobcats can get something for me instead of just waiving me.”

Simon scowled, glaring hard at the line of cars in front of us.

I softened my voice. “This has been hard on both of us. Keeping it a secret is fucking miserable.”

He ground his teeth, and for a long time, he said nothing at all. About halfway across the bridge, he said, “So you’re just going to out us. Regardless of what I have to say about it.”

“I was going to ask if you want to meet with everyone with me,” I said as calmly as I could. “I’m not trying to out us without your consent. I just… I can’t keep living and working like this, and I don’t think you can either.”

“Oh yeah?” He glanced at me, eyes narrow. “So how long before you and your new piece of ass are all over every social media site and magazine cover?”

“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered before I could stop myself. “This isn’t so I can go public with Wyatt. If anything, it’s so we can leave the house without worrying someone will start a rumor that I’m cheating on you. I already got the third degree from Cole Tandy for showing my face with—”

“And it turned out he was right, didn’t it?” Simon snapped. “He thought you were screwing Wyatt, and lo and behold, you’re—”

“That was before Wyatt and I started dating!” I threw back. “Which is kind of my point—I can’t go anywhere with anyone because everyone assumes I’m cheating on you. The same goes for you too.” I paused. “Look, we came out as a couple because we didn’t want to hide, and because we didn’t want to run afoul of the team or the League. I want to come out as exes for the same reason.”

“Except you know we’ll get in trouble this time, because they told us that’s exactly what’ll happen.”

“Yeah. I do. But it’s going to come out sooner or later, and I don’t know about you, but I can’t keep doing this for the rest of the goddamned season. Not if I’m actually going to be able to play hockey and keep my sanity.”

He pushed out a long breath. “It’s almost funny how fast you went from acting like you wanted to save this to wanting the brass to know you’re screwing someone else.”

Rage heated my blood, but I forced myself to stay calm. “I did want to save our relationship. You ended it. I moved on.”

“Didn’t let the grass grow on that part, that’s for sure.”

I gritted my teeth and rolled my eyes. “Look, do you want to come with me to tell them or not?”

“No.”

Icy silence hung between us for a solid minute.

I tried again, schooling my tone so I didn’t make him more defensive than he was. “Do you really want me to keep this quiet? I don’t want to keep it a secret anymore, but if you really do feel strongly about—”

“Do whatever you’re gonna do.” He gripped the wheel tighter and stared straight ahead.

And neither of us said another word for the rest of the drive.

At the training facility,after we got out of the car, Simon halted. I did, too, watching him curiously.

When he finally looked at me, there was a mix of anger and a million other emotions on his face. “Are you really sure about doing this?”

Looking him right in the eyes, I nodded. “I can’t keep living like this, and I don’t think you can either. We both need to be able to move on instead of pretending—”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you need to move on,” he snapped. “So convenient that you had someone lined up and ready for—”

“Excuse me?” I hissed, stepping right up into his space. “You dumped me, remember? This was your decision, Simon. Not mine.”

“Uh-huh.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’re really broken up about it, too, aren’t you?”

“So, what? Was I just supposed to mope and pine for you? Am I not allowed to move on with—”

“You can do whatever the fuck you want.” His lips peeled back as he added, “You just made it clear as hell how much you really cared about what we had.”

“Don’t you try to gaslight me,” I growled. “I did everything I could think of. You gave up. I moved on.” I spread my arms. “I’m sorry if I didn’t spend enough time sitting at home and grieving our relationship, but quite frankly, I think I did most of that after you moved out.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Oh, come on. You don’t think it tore me up when you left? Or when you blew me off every time I suggested therapy or—”

“We didn’t need a fucking shrink.”

“And you apparently don’t need me.”

We both froze. His eyes widened as if my words had startled him as much as they had me. I hadn’t meant to say them, but now that I had, I didn’t take them back. Because what could I say? They were true. I didn’t feel guilty for saying it out loud, but hearing my own words was a gut punch.

He really hadn’t needed me. Or wanted me. And yeah, I had started grieving our relationship when he’d moved out, because even though the denial had been strong, I was pretty sure I’d known deep down that it was the beginning of the end.

I moistened my lips. “It’s over, Simon. All I want to do is move on. And that starts with…” I motioned toward the training facility.

His lips thinned. Then he pushed his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie and rolled his shoulders. “Fine. Do whatever you have to do.” He nodded sharply at his car. “And since we don’t have to play happy couple anymore, you can find your own way home.”

With that, he stalked toward the players’ entrance.

I watched him go, and I was just… tired. So, so damn tired. Find my own way home? Fine. I was happy to pay for a ride that didn’t involve icy silence or relentless sniping. An Uber back to Medina was a small price to pay for some breathing room.

Before I headed inside, I sent a text to Coach, the GM, the president of hockey operations, my agent, our head of PR, and my players’ association rep.

Anthony: I’d like a sitdown after practice if everyone is available.

As soon as I sent it, my pulse went haywire. No turning back now. No pretending I didn’t have something I needed to discuss with them. I was doing this, and the chips would fall where they fell.

I tried as hard as I could to put it all out of my mind for now. I needed to get into my pre-practice routine, and then focus during practice. Everything else could wait until I sat down with everyone later, assuming they were all available. God help me if we had to put this off until another day.

On the way inside, I crossed paths with Coach, but he didn’t say anything. I assumed he hadn’t read my message yet, which was fine. Simon steadfastly ignored me, alternately focusing on his phone and getting into his warmup gear for his pre-practice laps around the building.

Never in my career had I been more relieved that my own ritual was solitary. Sometimes people would come by and chat while I was on the bike, or they’d grab the one next to me, but for the most part, I could put in some earbuds and shut out the world.

After my usual intervals on the bike, I returned to the locker room to change into my hockey gear. That was when I realized my phone had started lighting up. With my heart in my throat, I checked the screen. I had a text from our GM.

Clark: We’ll meet at 1:30 after practice in conference room 4.

Everyone else confirmed they were available to meet in person except my agent and players’ association rep, who would join by phone.

Eyes closed, I took a deep breath and released it slowly. This was it. I was doing this. No turning back now.

Ignoring the nausea climbing up the back of my throat, I confirmed that I would be there. Then I shut off my phone, tucked it into my bag, and continued gearing up.

And the whole time, I wondered if this would be my last ever practice with the Seattle Bobcats.

Okay.I stood outside the conference room and took a deep breath. Here we go.

Jittery and queasy, I pushed open the door and stepped inside. Everyone else was already here, and they watched in silence as I closed the door behind me and took a seat.

The day Simon and I had sat down with everyone to tell them we were together, they’d all seemed puzzled about why two players had asked for a meeting. As everyone had settled in, confusion had been etched all over their faces. Given how much they’d all startled when we’d made our announcement, we’d completely blindsided them.

Today, I had a feeling they knew. Or they at least had some suspicions. We had a new president of hockey operations since then, but he was in the loop about me and Simon. And rather cynically, I suspected that when an openly queer player sat them down about something, they all immediately assumed it had something to do with his queerness. Which… okay, they were right this time, but still.

Once everyone was situated and both my agent and the players’ association rep were on speakerphone, I opened my mouth to speak, but Megan, the PR director, was faster.

“Before we proceed,” she said, tapping something on her tablet, “we’ve got a situation.”

I gulped. “A situation?”

Everyone else in the room watched her, my own confusion registering on their faces.

Then she turned her tablet for me and the others to see. “This article was just sent to me.”

I leaned in, and my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach.

There was a photo of Simon and me at a red carpet event, smiling and tuxedoed, and it had been edited to look like it was ripped in half. Below that, a headline screamed, Seattle Bobcats Power Couple Are OVER!

Exclusive Scoop From Insider: Simon Caron’s Heartache, Anthony Austin’s NEW BOYFRIEND

“What the fuck?” I whispered. “Can I see that?”

She handed over the tablet. With my stomach in even tighter knots than when I’d gotten into Simon’s car earlier, I read the text on the screen. And, oh, hey, what a fucking shock to see Cole Tandy’s name on the byline.

The slimy fucker had written, Seattle Bobcats star forward Simon Caron and defenseman Anthony Austin have broken up! A source close to the couple says Caron and Austin have been living separate lives for nearly a year now. Caron is said to be heartbroken, while Austin has already moved a new boyfriend into the love nest they once shared in Medina.

I didn’t read any further—it was a short piece, but I just didn’t want to know what else he’d vomited onto the page. Instead, I made a disgusted sound and pushed the tablet back to Megan.

“Is this article true?” Clark asked flatly.

I swallowed. “It’s true that Simon and I split up. That’s… That’s exactly why I asked for…” I gestured to encompass the room and everyone sitting in it. “I didn’t want to keep it a secret anymore.”

Megan tapped her tablet. “It isn’t a secret.”

“I know.” I shook my head. “I have no idea who he talked to. Or how he—” My teeth snapped shut.

There was a very, very select group of people who knew Simon and I had hit the skids at all. An even smaller group who knew we’d split up.

There was also a tiny group who was aware that Wyatt and I were together.

And only three people on the planet who knew about the breakup and my relationship with Wyatt.

Me. Wyatt. And Simon.

Simon, who knew exactly how quick Cole Tandy was to jump on—and spread—any gossip he got his hands on. Simon, who knew how much Tandy had been sniffing around for drama between us ever since we’d come out.

Simon, who was pissed that I was telling the team’s brass we were over.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered.

“Aussie?” Coach Haskins asked quietly. “Something you want to share?”

I pushed a hand through my hair and exhaled as I leaned back in my seat. I didn’t have enough proof to throw Simon under the bus. But who the hell else could it be? “The whole reason I wanted this sitdown was to tell you guys that we’d broken up. I didn’t…” I flailed a hand at Megan’s tablet. “This wasn’t how I wanted it to come out.”

“So you were trying to get ahead of the story,” Allen, the president of hockey operations, said.

“No,” I said quietly. “I didn’t know there was a story. There wasn’t supposed to be. I… On the way in this morning, I told Simon I couldn’t handle it anymore, and that I was going to meet with all of you.”

“Did he object to that?” Clark asked.

I debated how to answer, and finally went with the truth: “He didn’t want me to do it.”

“Why not?” Megan sounded irritated, probably because she hated being caught off-guard by shit like this and likely wasn’t looking forward to crafting a statement in response to it.

I met her gaze. “He wanted us to finish out the season. His thought was that if we came to you all in the off season, told you we’d broken up months ago, and could show that we can coexist as teammates, then everything would be fine. There wouldn’t be a need to get rid of one of us.”

They all exchanged unreadable looks.

“But you decided not to wait that long,” Clark said.

I nodded. “The stress—it’s been driving me insane. He and I can function on the team, but we need more space than we have. Different roommates on the road. That kind of thing. Honestly, the breakup hasn’t stressed me out or affected my game nearly as much as the pressure of pretending everything is fine.”

To my surprise, a few of the gathered people looked chagrined.

Through the speaker, my rep asked, “How long ago did you two break up?”

I exhaled. “A little before Thanksgiving. But Simon moved out a good six months before that. And things were rocky… I don’t know, for a while. Most of last season.”

Coach’s eyebrows climbed as I spoke. “So you two have been pretending everything was fine between you for… over a year.”

I tried not to choke on my own voice. “What choice did we have?”

Coach’s lips parted. GM stiffened. The others glanced at each other but didn’t say anything.

I cleared my throat. “We’ve tried not to let it interfere with the team. And… Coach, I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t playing well when this season started. I tried. I really, really did. But I just…”

“Jesus Christ, son,” Coach murmured, and I wasn’t ready for the gentle hand on my shoulder. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I couldn’t.” I fought hard to keep my composure. “You all made it absolutely clear from day one that the minute any cracks showed, one of us was gone.” I swallowed and looked at everyone in turn. “I can’t hide them anymore. And let’s not bullshit—we all know he’s more valuable to the team than I am. So I know I’m going to be the one who gets traded or whatever. I don’t want to leave this team or this city, but I just can’t do this anymore.”

There were nods all around. Expressions varied. Coach seemed somewhat sympathetic. Clark had his lips quirked like he was debating how to proceed. Allen didn’t seem to know what to think.

Megan was still irritated, and I supposed I couldn’t blame her. Locking eyes with me, she folded her hands and set her jaw. “Cole Tandy says he got his information from an inside source, and you’re confirming that information is true. So does that mean someone on the team knew what was going on?”

“Not that I know of. I mean, Nova knew Simon and I were having problems, but he’d rather lick every teammate’s mouthguard than give Cole Tandy the time of day.”

Coach gave a quiet, gruff laugh. “He’s, um… He’s probably not wrong. There aren’t many boys in that locker room who will talk to Tandy if they don’t have to, and Nova hates him.”

Megan pursed her lips. “So that leaves… who? Because I’m not thrilled about the idea of someone in this locker room leaking personal information to the press, especially not to that asshole.”

Coach and I exchanged looks. He gave me a subtle nod.

I met Megan’s eyes. “As far as I knew, the only two people in the locker room who knew the things Tandy wrote in his article are me and Simon.”

“And you didn’t say anything to him.”

I laughed bitterly. “I’d take Nova’s sloppy seconds on the mouthguards before I told Tandy anything. Especially about my own personal life.”

Coach smothered a chuckle.

Megan exhaled. “Okay, well. I think that’s all I have.” She looked to Clark and Allen. They both shook their heads, and suddenly all eyes were on Coach.

He held their gazes for a moment, as if they were all communicating something telepathically. Then he turned to me. “Thanks for the heads up, kid.”

And… that was that.

No warnings. No threats. No verdicts.

I suspected most of that would go down behind closed doors. Clark would have calls to make to find a team willing to trade for me. He probably wouldn’t get much—not unless there was a team so desperate for a defenseman they’d overlook my recent stats—but even a handful of late round draft picks would be something.

I left the meeting and walked down the hall a short way. Then I stopped and leaned against the wall as I tried not to throw up. This had not gone according to plan. In some ways, it had gone better. I hadn’t been shouted down or thrown out of the room and told I’d never play in Seattle again. I likely wouldn’t play in Seattle again—I wasn’t stupid—but the meeting itself had gone well enough.

The article, though. The fucking Cole Tandy article. That was the part I just couldn’t deal with. I should’ve been bracing for the incoming upheaval of my career and living situation, but nothing could get past the stunned hurt of knowing Simon had stabbed me in the back like that.

Betrayal burned hot behind my ribs. I knew he was pissed at me, but I hadn’t imagined he was so angry he’d stoop to that level. He told Cole Tandy? He leaked it like tabloid gossip so I looked like I’d tossed Simon out of his own house and moved in a new guy?

I rubbed my eyes. It wasn’t hard to believe there’d been a time when I’d been in love with Simon and we’d been blissfully happy together. The part that didn’t feel real was that we’d been in a shitty spot, and I’d bent over backwards trying to fix things. Why the fuck hadn’t I just cut my losses and moved on as soon as Simon made it clear he was done?

Because I couldn’t. For the same reasons Simon couldn’t. For all the same reasons I finally had to have this damn meeting.

What a fucking mess.

I shouldered myself off the wall and shuffled down the hall. I was too hurt, angry, and humiliated to think anymore. I also couldn’t stomach seeing any of my teammates, so I gave the locker room a wide berth. Right now, I needed to go home.

And while I waited outside for my Uber, I was just grateful I wouldn’t have to ride with Simon again.