Page 93 of Breaking the Ice

“Stuff.”

Wow, she’s not giving me much to work with.

“Wanna hear about my lesson plans?”

Isabella shoots me a withering look. “You play games all day. There’s not much to it.”

That stings. I could mention that she just sings songs with kids, but that wouldn’t be kind—or true. We both do way more than people give credit for, and I won’t perpetuate hurtful falsehoods.

“You know it’s more than that.”

But apparently, she doesn’t want to deal with my poor conversation topics. Isabella puts in her earbuds and stares out the wet window as I drive us to school. I can’t help the sigh that escapes my lips as I pull into the parking lot. I can’t go on like this.

“Wait.” She’s about to get out of the car when I stop her. “We need to take a picture.”

Isabella rolls her eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I had great games this weekend, and people are clamoring for content.” Are they? I have no idea. But it could be true. Is she going to fact check me?

“Gotta give your fans what they want. Young and in love, right?” Her words are clipped, and she pastes a fake smile on her face as she leans close to me. Her strawberry scent hits me in the gut.

The moment is over far too fast, and she jumps out of the car before I have a chance to show her the pictures or give her my umbrella.

My eyes track her as she hustles into the school, and my chest fills with dread. Lightning flashes in the sky, thunder sounds again, and if possible, it rains harder. My mood sinks further, matching the weather.

I guess this is it. I let her down, and there are no second chances. No apology will be enough. There’s no way she will want to stay with me after graduation now. My marriage was over before it barely began.

Chapter

Forty-Five

ISABELLA

“Have dinner with me tonight?” Evan glances at me out of the corner of his eye as he drives us home from school.

I’ve held onto my anger all week, but he’s making it hard for me to stay mad. He’s brewed me coffee every morning, chauffeured me to school, and stocked the fridge with my favorite foods. It’s sweet…but how long will it last? Only until something more important comes along.

“You can’t.” I shake my head. “You have a home game tonight.”

The NCAA added in a round of conference play before the finals in an attempt to drum up more fans. The team will move into the Big Ten tournament next and then head to Semifinals. It makes the season a little longer, but hopefully the publicity helps them get more recognition.

“Yeah, but I could take you out after.”

Am I ready to sit across the table from him? Look into his eyes? Every time I see him, my heart aches. Because while I don’t trust him, I haven’t stopped loving him. It’s killing me.

“No, thanks.” I clear my throat. “I have a date with my mom tonight.”

There’s a home game, after all. I need to make an appearance, but then she and I can grab ice cream like always. Thinking of the well-worn ritual soothes me.

“Okay.” Evan nods, tapping on the steering wheel. He does this a lot—the tapping. He has so much energy, it leaks out his pores. “Would you like me to give you a ride? Drop you off anywhere?”

“No, she’ll pick me up.”

“Have fun.” He stops tapping and starts jiggling his knee.

“Thanks. Good luck tonight.”

Is that what it’s come to? Stilted and awkward conversation? I used to think we could talk forever, but now I guess we’ve run our course.