Page 346 of Bad Prince

---

My voice is calm.

Clear.

“But I’m also not going to pretend this isn’t… unfinished.”

I look at Tristan.

Only Tristan.

“What we had didn’t just disappear.”

My chest tightens, but I push through it.

“It’s been sitting there for five years.”

A beat.

“And it’s not fair.”

My voice softens.

“To you.”

Then shifts.

“To her.”

Then finally?—

“To me.”

His eyes flicker.

I lean forward just slightly.

“He might be with you,” I say, glancing at Isa now, “but he’s always going to wonder about me.”

Her lips press together.

I don’t stop.

“The same way I’ve been wondering about him.”

I look back at Tristan.

“And Isa… I heard your conversation in the training room… your debutante mother? The one who advised you to lock down Vale for her 6’3 NBA grandbabies. Does he know? That you targeted him? Sought him out like a desperate WAG wannabe?”

Tristans face pales. His eyes go cold.

“That’s right, Vale. It wasn’t me the scholarship girl who got run out of Royal Oaks your mama needs to worry about—it’s the Texan honeypot who almost bagged you. Are you going to ‘fess up Texas? Fine if you don’t...I have enough of that convo saved on my phone. I was there in the training room getting ice…”

Tears spring from here eyes, “It’s not like that…. not anymore I’m in love with him,” she breaks off on a sob, drawing attention from everyone around us.

The words hang there.

Heavy.

Tristan exhales slowly, dragging a hand down his face.

---