Game On (Game On 1)

“Hey beautiful, welcome home!”

Her words sounded bright but the sparkle in her tone didn’t quite reach her eyes. I sat up. “What’s wrong?”

“Wow, you’re good,” she said, giving into a laugh. “It’s usually only my mom who can read me so well. I’m okay though. How are you? How was Phoenix?”

“Freya, I called you yesterday, don’t change the subject.”

She paused for a moment then said, “You wanna order a pizza and drink wine? May as well make this into a girly evening if I’m gonna pour my heart out.”

The sadness in her eyes caused a physical pain in my chest and I leapt up to give her a hug. My own inner turmoil seemed insignificant while she clung to me with what felt like deep gratitude.

“We can do whatever you want,” I told her.

“Okay. You pour the wine and I’ll order the food.”

In less than an hour, we’d settled ourselves on the floor in the living room. A bottle of white wine rested on the coffee table next to our piping hot Hawaiian pizza.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Freya said, ignoring the pizza and reaching straight for her glass of wine. “Whatever I say is going to sound insane.”

“Try me. What happened?”

Freya took a deep breath, letting her blonde hair fall in front of her face a little to hide her. “Will’s seeing someone. One of his ex-girlfriends, Heather, tracked him down a few months ago to let him know she was moving back to Westberg. I didn’t think anything of it at the time but she’s here now and they went out last night.”

“And?”

“They had fun. He hasn’t stopped talking about her all day, which is fine. I mean, really, it’s fine. I’m happy for him, but at the same time I feel so …” she trailed off, unable to find the words.

I didn’t need for her to finish the sentence. She felt like she’d been punched in the gut.

“Really?” I asked. “You have no idea?”

She sighed. “I have an idea.”

The rest of our friends had more than an ‘idea.’ In fact, there seemed to be an unspoken bet between everyone on the team about when they’d get together.

“Freya, why didn’t you tell him you liked him before?”

“I didn’t know.”

How was that possible? Denial I could understand, and even trying to play it down, but she must have had an inkling that she felt more for him than friendship. Especially since it was so obvious to the rest of the world.

Sensing my thoughts, Freya said, “You’ve never misjudged your feelings for someone?”

“No,” I told her, honestly. “I’ve lied to myself but deep down I always knew the truth.”

Just like with McCoy.

“That’s not what happened here.”

A sombre silence hung between us. “Things with Will and Heather might not be serious,” I said.

“Maybe. But whenever we’re on our own together, I’ll be forced to hear about her. I can’t exactly tell him to stop, can I?”

“You could tell him how you feel.”

“Would you do that? Would you put years of friendship at risk for something that may not be reciprocated?”

“I don’t know. But I’m not sure I’d want to live with the constant question of what may have happened if I’d been brave enough to admit the truth.”