Georgie had been the one shouting at Mum after she went behind my back and discussed the betrothal with Caroline and her family. She couldn’t believe how unfair it all was. Me? I’d sat quietly in the corner, trying to find the path of least resistance. I’d had a few weeks until I was supposed to leave for Rio and I couldn’t concentrate on betrothals or weddings when I had my records to beat. I’d shoved the announcement to the side and walked out of the room, intent on focusing on swimming until after the Olympics were over.
It’d been a good plan up until I ran into Caroline at a friend’s flat two days later. I was piss drunk, annoyed at my mum, and stressed about the future. The tequila wasn’t sitting well with me and then I’d glanced up and spotted Caroline having a laugh with one of her friends across the room. Caroline. My betrothed. How odd that she was there and she hadn’t even come to say hi to me, her future husband.
The details after that were fuzzy, but I remembered standing and walking toward her with the idea of chatting. She was pretty in a done-up way, and she was always extremely nice. I had a fleeting moment where I thought, why not? Why not Caroline? A man could do much worse for himself. She’d laughed at my drunken state, not the least bit perturbed. She’d helped me get a glass of water and directed me to a couch in the corner.
That night was the last time I’d had communication with her up until she’d stepped out of the limo in Rio. My mother had been the driving force behind our relationship from the start, and it was time I assessed the situation with my own eyes. Caroline was pretty and kind and wonderful, but I didn’t want her, and I wouldn’t marry her out of some misplaced ideal of familial duty.
“You know, I’m not surprised,” Caroline said from across the table.
I shook my head clear and glanced up to see her soft smile.
“Honestly, Frederick. We hardly know each other.”
I let out a sigh of relief.
“I would be lying if I said I hadn’t expected that this would come soon enough. We’re still young and we’ve got all the time in the world to fall in love. I’d gone along with the betrothal because my parents had pressured me into it—”
I laughed. “Seems our parents are very similar.”
She smiled. “But if you’d like to break it off, I completely respect your decision.”
I inhaled a deep breath, shocked at how well she was handling it all.
Her smile fell suddenly. “Oh dear. I am expected at that media dinner tomorrow night though…”
Right.
“I could still attend it, I suppose…if it will make it easier on you. That way you can delay the news of the broken betrothal until after you’ve finished competing.”
She had a point. Was it so wrong to want my successes highlighted in the news more than my failures? Once the media got wind that I was breaking off our betrothal, there’d be no stopping them. I knew that better than anyone.
“So you’ll go to the media dinner.”
She nodded. “Right. There’s no sense in hopping on a flight right back home after I’ve just arrived. I’d like to stay and enjoy the games with Georgie. There are so many people in the city. Who knows, maybe I’ll meet the true love of my life while I’m here!”
She laughed at her joke, but I stared down at the table and thought of Andie.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Andie
I REALLY WANTED to text Freddie. I wanted to tell him I’d met Georgie and she’d filled me in on his plan for ending things with Caroline. I wanted to tell him I’d be at the media dinner and I hoped he’d be there too. It’d been one day since he’d banged on my door, trying hard to get me to listen to him. I’d gone through two PT sessions, glancing up every time an athlete walked through the doors, only to bury the disappointment when it wasn’t him. I desperately wanted to reach out, but it wasn’t right. As long as he was with Caroline, I needed to keep my distance. Georgie insisted Freddie was trying to make it right and his text had said as much. I had to wait. He needed to come to me when he’d sorted everything out.
So, I deleted an unsent text message and shoved my phone back into my clutch. Kinsley was across the room, applying makeup. She’d asked me a few days ago if I’d be willing to go to the media dinner. We’d all been invited, but Becca had zero interest in putting on a cocktail dress and Liam said he’d had enough of reporters to last him a lifetime.
“Tell me again why we have to go to this thing?” I asked.
“Because while reporters aren’t allowed in the village, they still need something to write about. The committee thought this would make everyone happy. We get good food and they get interviews.”
I smiled. “You already know what they’re going to ask you.”
She offered up her best broken record impression. “When are you and Liam going to start a family? When will you get pregnant? Are you pregnant NOW?”
I laughed. “It’s all anyone cares about.”
“Including Liam,” she added, turning back to the mirror so she could finish her makeup.
“What? Really?”
She nodded. “He’s turning thirty soon and he thinks after the Olympics we should start trying. You know, uh, take away the goalie.”
“Oh my god. I’m going to be an aunt.”