Page 105 of Rule 1: Never Accidentally Marry Your Teammate

Finn is looking for an annulment? I thought...

It doesn’t matter what I thought. The joy that had bubbled through me feels foolish now.

I look around, as if something here can ground me.

Oh, God.

I’m living in Finn’s Carrington’s apartment. Finn Carrington the multimillionaire NHL player. Finn Carrington who probably is a multimillionaire anyway from his trust fund. Finn Carrington who was groomed to be perfect.

Perfect, generous, thoughtful character. Perfect at his chosen profession. Perfect at looking amazing.

God, I moved into the apartment of my idol and am busy playing house. How many times have I seen these counters on OurVids or SlickSlide? How many times have I seen this blender?

Foolishness fills me. This whole time I thought we were becoming closer, all while Finn was trying to wriggle out of the marriage.

I had to bite my lips to keep from telling Finn that I loved him last night. I close my eyes, but when I open them, the beautiful kitchen, the beautiful living room remain.

He must despise me. I’m the fan who managed to somehow get my hero to marry me. He never even liked guys.

And though we’ve had awesome sex...how much of it is because of convenience? Because Finn has a high sex drive. Maybe he wanted someone else’s mouth, someone else’s hand, someone’s else’s hole...

Unease undulates through me, and I wobble. For a moment, the world darkens.

God, I’m going to faint. I’m going to faint, and Finn is going to find me in here. And he’s going to comfort me because he’s a nice guy. Will he then send another message to his lawyer? Asking for help for an even quicker annulment?

Or will he tell me he didn’t mean it because that’s the kind of guy he is? Will he resolve to continue tolive with me as husband and husband because he doesn’t want to upset me?

We’re both Blizzards players. And I’ve been playing since we got together. Was all this a big ruse to keep my emotions steady? Like when he had me listen to affirmations before the game in Vegas? He told me he listened to them before every game, but I never saw him talk about it on his channel and I never saw him do it again. Mostly he spends time chatting with the others because he’s such a great guy and so special.

Vinnie has been so suspicious. And why shouldn’t he have been? How much of us moving closer and closer sexually is because he wants to prove we’re together? It’s not a lie if it’s really happening?

I close my eyes. It was fake. It was all fake and polite, and I never should have fallen for it. Finn told me that this was a marriage in name only. We both knew that.

But then he saw I was up for more physical activity when I fucking came in his bed. Was I rutting up against him that night? God, I was only there because my parents were spending the night. What must he have thought to find he married into a family where even a single night in Boston at a hotel would be overly expensive, when his family lives in one of the nicest townhouses on one of the nicest streets in the country?

Shame barrels through me.

It’s nice that Finn isn’t homophobic. It’s nice that he’s experimental. But then the liberal elite in Boston don’t normally have that issue, at least when they’re as young as Finn is.

Is this like a prison situation where men get together with other men when they’ve never shown interest in men before? I shut my eyes, but I can’t block away the shame that continues to move through me, filling each cell, so I end up trembling.

I feel sick. But then that’s another thing I already did here.

Finn has been the nicest possible person. And if he wants an annulment, I am not going to stand in his way. No. Not at all.

He won’t like that the letter was released, and he’ll probably be contrite and apologize...but I won’t let him promise things he doesn’t want.

I love him too much.

This isn’t about my career. This is about his life and his happiness.

I need to leave. I tiptoe into our bedroom—no, Finn’s bedroom, and grab my sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

Finn smiles in his sleep. I want to curl into bed beside him and pretend for a few minutes more that everything is okay.

But it’s not, and it never will be.

Finn will wake up soon. He will read the news. I don’t want to wait for him to become sufficiently awake so that he can spew lies. I don’t want to see sorrow in his gaze and wonder if it’s just acting.