My Darling Arrow (St. Mary's Rebels 1)

So boring that a word comes out of my mouth in a flat, bored tone. “Convenient.”

“Yes.” Sarah smiles in triumph. “It was convenient. Somehow fate or whatever put us in the same house. Our thoughts matched. Our goals matched. We both brought something to the table. Do you know how hard that is to find? This level of perfection between two people?

“It’s hard, A. But we have it. All these people, these ordinary people, they run after love and all those stupid things. But we have something greater. It was never about love between us. We have our perfection. We have our ambitions. Our plans. We’re a team, you and me. We’re the power couple, don’t you see? I’m beautiful, educated, sophisticated; I look good on your arm. And you are my superstar athlete boyfriend. Why do you think I came up with the injury lie? Why do you think I appeased everyone while you were away? I didn’t want you to lose everything you’ve worked for. We have worked for. Remember all the plans we made? Going to college together. You going pro. You getting traded to the European League. God, we were going to live in England or Ireland. Spain. We were going to do so many things together.”

We were.

Going pro was always my dream.

Playing for the European League was always my dream too because it was my father’s dream and my mother made sure that I saw it as well, when I closed my eyes.

But then Sarah came along, and she seemed so similar to me that all my plans and dreams became hers. She let me focus on the game. She let me completely disappear into myself when I was obsessed with a strategy. She let me watch the game tapes over and over.

She let me be.

It just made sense.

It was fucking convenient.

“And we can still have that,” she continues, stepping closer and putting her hands on me again, on my rapidly heating body. “We can still be that couple, you and me. One mistake can’t wash away eight years of togetherness, A. It can’t. I won’t let it. We can’t be like other people and be bogged down with ordinary things. We’re special. We have worked too hard for it, you and me.”

She’s right.

We’re not ordinary, her and me.

We’re perfect. We match.

We are destined for greater things. That’s what I’ve been told ever since I was born. Greatness, perfection, being my father’s son.

“You and me, huh,” I murmur and her eyes shine with a hard glint of her ambitions.

“I know I hurt you with Ben. I know that but that wasn’t my intention at all.”

“So what was your intention then?”

“You were so involved in your game, the season, and I was new in town. I’d just started the new job. I was lonely. I didn’t have a lot of friends back then. You kept bringing him around and yeah, I slipped up. I admit that. But I didn’t want to distract you from the game because of something so inconsequential. I didn’t want you to lose your focus. That’s why I hid it for so long. I didn’t want to hurt you. I was going to stop anyway once we were married. You are more important to me than some second-class coach. He’s been on the team for four years, A, and he’s still the assistant coach, can you believe it? You rose to the top within a year. He’s got nothing on you. He’s got nothing on us.”

I have to bark out a harsh laugh.

I’ve been trying to keep it inside of me, this sharp piece of laughter, but it bursts out like a bullet. Like my body has been a loaded gun for so long and finally, finally the shot is fired.

Because finally, I understand.

Finally, things make sense.

They make perfect sense.

Convenience.

That’s it. That’s what our relationship has been all about.

We’ve been together because somehow our ambitions matched and everything came easy. We both brought something to the table – I was the popular jock and she was the good girl.

I gave her the status she craved and she was the perfect girlfriend who stood by me through the years while I achieved my dreams. Who encouraged me and never distracted me from my main goal.

My main focus – soccer.

In fact, when I graduated a semester earlier than her and was drafted, I didn’t even think twice about leaving her behind. I was so fucking ecstatic about it. She was ecstatic about it.

Things were falling into place for us.

Our dreams were coming true.

But when she cheated, all that convenience went away, didn’t it?

All the plans were broken.

Suddenly, all I could think about was her breaking my trust. All I could think about was her fucking my friend on our couch, in our bed, in hotel rooms. Her fucking him with my ring on her finger and me failing to figure it out.