Page 243 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
My chest tightens.
I stare at it for a second longer, thumb hovering over the screen before I open it, reading it again like the words might change if I look at them long enough.
They don’t.
They just settle deeper.
Everything in me softens. Because this, this is what matters. Not the signs. Not the noise. Not the pressure.
Her.
Us.
I flick over to my post. The photo of our hands. Simple. Intentional. Mine wrapped around hers. Captioned exactly how I meant it.
My one and only.
The comments are exactly what I expected.
Shock.
Denial.
People arguing in threads like they’ve been personally wronged.
“You’re joking, right?”
“No way he’s actually taken.”
“Who is she???”
“Delete this.”
I exhale slowly. They don’t get it. Not yet. But they will. Because this is just the beginning. A tap on my shoulder pulls me back.
“Media wants you.”
Of course they do. I nod once, pushing to my feet, grabbing a clean shirt and dragging it over my head as I move. Zach falls into step beside me.
“You good?” he asks quietly.
I huff out a breath.
“They want me to be the show pony again.”
He gives a small, knowing look.
“Yeah.”
I run a hand through my hair, jaw tight.
“I don’t want to stand up there and pretend I’m still that guy,” I mutter. “I’m not.”
He doesn’t argue.
He doesn’t need to.
I glance at him, something else forming, something that’s been sitting in the back of my mind since this morning, since that moment at the table.
