Limelight Love Story

12. I Get What I Want

When Tim was pulled into Lucy's dressing right before she was supposed to go out on stage, he thought she was trying to steal a kiss, which he was happy to give her so long as she was okay with him smudging her lipstick. But, she did not lean into him or hold his face.

Instead, Lucy held out her phone and angrily said, "Please, tell me this isn't true, because if it is, we're screwed, and you're an ass."

His hand was still on her waist as he blinked a few times to focus on the image on her screen. "Where did you get that picture?"

"So, this IS true?" Her blood turned cold, and she took another step back, because for the first time since meeting him, Lucy wanted to get as far away from Tim as possible. "You have made it perfectly clear that I'm not your wife, but this is low."

"Low? What?"

"Getting back together with your ex when you're supposed to be married to me? Seriously?"

"No, wait, I'm not getting back together with Ashley. I haven't talked to her since we split up."

"Really? You two look awfully close in this selfie." Her lip quivered, because he was lying, and they had not lied to each other before.

"A selfie from three years ago when we were together." Tim covered her shaky hand on her phone and locked the device so neither of them kept looking at the photo. "You are the only woman in my life now."

"My phone's blowing up saying you're cheating on me and getting back together with Ashley." It stung. Fake relationship or not, Tim rekindling a romance with someone else when they were in the midst of a rough patch was painful.

"I would never," he whispered and carefully splayed his fingers on either side of her neck to tilt her head up. "Lucy, listen to me, I don't know where this rumor started, but it isn't true. I don't have time for anyone else. All I think about is you."

"You've had a lot of time this past week since we...fought."

"The past week where I've been sick to my stomach, because I messed everything up? I've barely even thought about hockey lately."

A knock at the door was barely audible over the blood rushing in her ears. "You swear?"

"I swear on the Stanley Cup, and Wayne Gretzky, and hockey, and us. Check my phone if you need to. I haven't talked to Ashley in almost three years. I haven't so much as looked at another woman since you."

Her eyes started to water, because that was the most solemnly he could swear on anything. Tim had been oblivious to Rachel's overt flirtations and hardly paid attention to her when Lucy was in the room. She had hoped the rumors in the tabloids were all lies, but she needed to be sure. "Okay, I'm sorry. I just needed to know the truth."

"And the truth is I care about us, Lucy."

"So do I." She dropped her hands to his waist to cling to him.

Rapping at the door made Tim blow out a breath. "That's the third time they've knocked. You really should get out on stage."

Lucy had not recalled a third knock, but she did not want to leave her dressing room or Tim. She knitted her eyebrows together.

"Go be a rockstar. I'll see you after." He kissed her forehead. "Good luck, wife." It felt right. He was wrong to ever suggest otherwise. Lucy was his wife, and he wanted her to know that he accepted that.

Her chest constricted. He called her his wife. She had not realized how much she missed the title. Whatever she wanted to say, words failed her. Lucy only smiled up at him before leaving the dressing room and walking onto the stage.