Page 71 of Set Play

I’ve never been so thankful for her rambling.

Through the tumultuous emotions, one thing is clear, I finally understand. Looking back, it’s so obvious that Henri has been lying to her for years. I can’t believe I didn’t consider it; I know how he is, but I assumed he would be honest to his family.

Just like she did...

“I’m so sorry.” Élise whispers, “If I had jus–”

“No.” I rush to comfort her, not willing to let her take the blame for this, but in my haste, it comes out like an angry bark instead. Damnit. “You don’t owe me an apology, Chispita. At least, not for believing the story you were told,” I add before she completely shuts down. “But I’d appreciate a chance to tell my side of it?”

She nods, staring back at me with so much mistrust and pain that my heart lurches. “I guess that’s only fair.”

“You’re right to doubt Henri, Chispita. I have never once brought you or your family into the rivalry.” I take a deep breath, knowing she’s not going to like the next bit.

“In fact, he brought my family into it. Flora was harassed for months by the press, and it nearly ended her relationship with Sophie. And that’s just the icing on the cake.” I proceed to tell her everything about my rivalry with Henri, from start to finish.

By the end, silent tears stream down her face. I ache to wrap her in a hug, but her body language screams ‘don’t touch me,’ so I keep my hands to myself.

“For what it’s worth, I am so sorry that this is how you found out. I kept waiting for the right time to bring it up while hoping that Henri would admit everything, but…”

“Yeah. I th—”

I struggle to hear her with how soft she speaks, but I’m still desperate to know what she is going to say.

However, the doorknob rattling behind me ruins any chance I have of finding out. We both stare at the door, jumping when a muffled voice calls out, “Why is this damn door locked? It’s never locked.”

I don’t immediately recognize the speaker, but when I look back at Élise, it’s clear that our rendezvous has reached its inevitable end. She’s fixing her slacks and wiping her tears, hiding all evidence of her pain.

“Élise,” I start, reaching out to her, but she pulls away at the sound of jingling keys. I want nothing more than to do something to ease her mind before leaving this bubble, but nothing can help right now. All I can do before that door opens and things are left unsettled is whisper one last plea. “Please don’t pull away from me. Let me be there for you through this.”

“I-I need to go. I need time and space to process this all. I’ll text you, I promise.”

The door swings open, revealing one of the stadium cleaning crew. One look at the two of us and he mumbles a quick apology before bolting down the hall. My lips twitch in amusement, but it dies when I turn to make a joke to relieve some of the lingering tension.

She’s already gone.

Élise

Hearing Mateo’s side of the rivalry story sent my mind into a spiral that has yet to end. I’ve taken the last two days off to process it. Thankfully, I was only scheduled to work one day at each job so I’ve not missed too much time.

Never have I been so grateful to be part-time with both the clinic and the team.

My mind is such a wreck that I even muted the girls’ chat. Unfortunately, the only thing that has become clear is that my brother is due for a rude awakening. If he can’t be bothered to answer his phone, then he gets to deal with me in person.

I quickly send a text in the Storm staff group chat, telling them I have to go back to Canada for a week. It’s not the greatest look, and I’m sure Brenda will have something to say when she hears about it, but I wasn’t scheduled to work everyday anyway. It’s not like I’m leaving them without a medical team member. Sarge is always there; I was just hired to help ease his load a little.

The clinic is next and thankfully, a lot easier since all I have to do is post my shifts in the ‘need coverage’ chat. There’s always someone eager for more hours. With my employers notified, I toss my phone on the bed and start gathering stuff for my trip.

Finding my suitcase requires a brief dig through my closet, but once I have it free, I start shoving clothes into it. It’s halfway full when Niamh, tired of being ignored, slams my door open and into the wall.

“Okay, listen up ye twat! I’ve had—” Her tirade ends abruptly when she sees my luggage. “Um, where the bloody hell are ye going?”

“Home.”

“You better say April Fools’, right the feck now,” she demands.

“Nope. Not a joke,” I state plainly, continuing to race around my room and grab things I’ll need.

“Uh..kay, why?” The tremor in her voice has me turning to face her.