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“Pumpkin, there you are.” My dad’s voice wobbles as he hurries to my bedside. “You scared the hell outta me.” His face is white, his wrinkles deep-set.
“Dad . . .” I mutter, sitting up
He takes my hand, his rough palms eliciting a comforting warmth. “I thought we were past this.”
“We are.”
He squeezes my hand and brushes a lock of hair from my face, stroking my head. “Roxy, you passed out at the gym because you over-exercised and didn’t eat properly. Your blood sugar and iron levels were dangerously low.” He draws a long breath. “All of this is bringing me back to fifteen years ago, and I don’t like the nostalgia.” His tone is hard, but there’s a kindness behind it. I know he’s scared. I am too.
I lower my gaze, unable to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Don’t be,” he says, stroking my hair before placing a kiss on my forehead. “I know it’s hard for you. It’s always been. But look at you, Roxy. How many more pounds do you need to lose? You look fantastic.”
My stomach twists painfully. The result of guilt, regret, and hunger. “I know, Dad. Dating Wade has just put some extra pressure on me. I swear, I was fine with the way I looked before. I just lost track of that, I guess.”
“Wade?” he groans. “Is he the one putting these ideas in your head?”
My heart stutters. “No! Of course not. It’s just the media . . . people.”
“Good, because I already told him what happened. He’s on his way over here.”
“What!” I blurt, my heart thrumming wildly in my chest.
“He’s your boyfriend. I thought he should know. And pumpkin, don’t listen to what other people say.” He waves a hand in dismissal before taking a seat under the window. “They’re probably just jealous. Look at how many girls had his name written on their backs at the game.”
“I know.” I give a small nod, breathing out a long swoosh of air. He’s right, of course. I let my insecurities get the best of me. Over the years, I’ve learned to block out the external stuff, but it’s not so easy when you’re pasted on the cover of magazines and popping up all over social media.
“What can I—” Dad starts, but he’s interrupted by the door slamming open. It’s Wade, still in his football kit, all sweaty and ruffled. And gorgeous. Damn.
Wade
“Roxy!” A pang pierces my chest when I see her. She’s half sitting in the bed, donning a hospital gown. She looks as beautiful as ever, but my heart falls when I notice that her face looks a little strained, and dark bruises dot her arms and forehead.
I march through the room to her bedside. “Are you okay? What the hell happened?” My hands have a mind of their own, stroking her head gently.
“Did you come straight from practice?” she asks with a soft frown.
“I—what—yes.” I ruffle my hair. I saw Richard’s phone call when we were on break, and I rushed out. I’m guessing I’ll have some explaining to do later. “Hi, Richard,” I say, remembering my manners. I turn to face him and shake his hand. “Sorry I barged in.”
“Right, em, I’ll give you some alone time,” he rumbles. After waving awkwardly at Roxy, he exits the room.
I immediately focus my attention back on her. “You gave me quite a scare.” I sit on the side of the bed, holding her hand.
“I’m all right. You really didn’t have to come all the way here, and in the middle of practice.” She lets out a forced chuckle. “I just overdid it, that’s all.”
“Overdid it? Your dad said you passed out at the gym. You could have hit your head harder than you did. He also said your blood sugar was dismal and—”
“It’ll be fine. Look,” she says, showing me the IV attached to her hand. “They’re giving me everything I need to get better.”
“They shouldn’t have to.” I try to keep my tone calm, but my chest is rattling from the pounding of my heart. “Why aren’t you eating properly? I don’t—Damn it. Is this because of the media? Ashley told me there were some nasty things said on social platforms.”
She remains silent, which I take as a yes.
Jumping to my feet, I pace around the room, balling my hands into fists. “This is all my fault. They’re only attacking you because you’re with me.”
“Please don’t say that.” She extends her arm, trying to reach me. “Come here.”
Heaving a laboured sigh, I turn around and sit down on the spot she’s patting next to her.
