Page 9 of Rivals and Liars

"Yeah, that hasn't changed. And on top of everything, my dad hinted that I should be seeing someone," Leire added, frustrated.

"Someone with a dick, I assume." Marta smirked, and Leire let out a snort that set them both off.

"That wasn't even the worst part. He told me who."

Marta cracked up.

"God, your dad never changes." She shook her head, then went serious and leaned forward. "But I don't think any of that is really your problem, Leire."

"What do you mean?"

Marta looked down at her hands, tracing one of the lines on her palm as she searched for the right words.

"If that Costel contract didn't exist, would anything really change for you? Because honestly, I'm not so sure, Leire."

"I don't follow," Leire said, genuinely confused. Marta traced another line before going on.

"I think you use that contract as an excuse not to face who you really are. I think even if those clauses weren't in the deal — or if the deal didn't exist at all — you still wouldn't admit that you're into women. Because you've been hiding from yourself so long you don't know how to stop."

Leire took a few seconds before she answered. A dozen quick deflections came to mind, the kind she kept ready for exactly these moments. But she didn't stop to weigh whether Marta was right, because that answer might cost her sleep.

"I'm not hiding. I'm with Kate — maybe not officially," she corrected herself, "but we're together."

Her friend stared at her, jaw dropped, so stunned that Leire worried for a second she'd given her a stroke.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Leire snapped her fingers in front of Marta's face.

"You're sleeping with Kate Brogan?" she asked, lips curling into a satisfied smile.

Now it was Leire who looked stunned. But when she played the conversation back in her head, she realized she'd said Kate's name — that her friend's accusation had thrown her so completely off balance that, for the first time in three years, she hadn't managed to keep it hidden.

"I guess I am," she admitted, a little dazed, starting to smile as her best friend began to clap.

"Oh my God, I've been hoping it was her for years, but you always made me doubt it with your vague answers. What's she like? Is she as good in bed as she is on the court? Actually—" Marta went red. "Don't tell me."

"I wasn't going to," Leire laughed, though her smug smile gave her away completely.

"I can't believe it. How can you keep a woman like that hidden, Leire? I don't know her personally, but she just radiates warmth and kindness. I really don't get it."

"I'm not keeping her hidden."

"No? Then what do you call sleeping with a woman for three years without me even knowing her name until now? This changes everything for me. Before, I didn't know who she was — I couldn't picture her face, couldn't imagine how she felt. It was like you were dating some kind of ghost. But now that I know she's real, that she has a name, I can't wrap my head around it."

"What is it you don't get?" Leire asked, starting to feel cornered, a little uncomfortable.

"That she puts up with it. She must love you a lot, Leire, because there's no other way to explain it. That woman could be with anyone, and she's chosen someone who hides her like she's something to be ashamed of."

Leire put her feet down and stood, moving a few steps from the table until she was standing barefoot on the grass, staring at the ground. Marta was her best friend — and the only person who told her the truth straight to her face. She backed her unconditionally in everything, except this, at least since Leire had started talking to her about Kate.

Marta had always understood that it was harder for her to face who she was, that she needed more time, that she needed to find her own way to accept herself. But lately, Marta had been telling her the same thing over and over: that she wouldn't be happy until she took the step, that too many years had gone by in hiding.

"I'm not ashamed of her," Leire snapped, more at herself than at her friend.

"Then what is it?"

Marta stood too.

"I've got a contract with a very traditional, backward-ass brand, and if I come out it'll be like—"