Playing for Keeps: Finding Love Beyond the Lies - Chapter 46: Chapter 46

We had barely stepped into the living area when Diego's friends eagerly surrounded us.
"What were you two lovebirds whispering about in there?" one teammate asked with a playful grin.
"Don't worry, we won't harass you tonight," another chimed in. "We're saving all our pranks for the wedding."
"We'll hang out for a bit longer, then leave you two alone," a third added with a wink.
Diego's friends were like him—polite and considerate, at least on the surface. Mindful that he had just undergone surgery, they'd brought only fruit juices and light foods rather than the champagne and elaborate spreads that usually accompanied their celebrations.
Someone was asking Diego: "Once you're back to normal, we should all go skiing in the Swiss Alps again. Just like before."
Diego agreed naturally, with none of the violent reaction such suggestions used to trigger. Just months ago, any mention of skiing or basketball would have sent him into a spiral of rage or depression.
His friend turned to me. "You'll come too, won't you, Emma? Diego will book your tickets. You'll absolutely love it there."
Diego looked up at me, effectively passing the question to me to answer.
After being rejected twice in one night, even I had enough self-respect not to continue playing the devoted girlfriend.
"You all should go without me," I said quietly.
But Diego suddenly spoke up: "She can come with us, it's no problem.
"After all, I think of her as my sister."
His words landed like a grenade, and an immediate silence fell over the room.
His closest friend laughed awkwardly, clapping Diego on the shoulder. "What kind of joke is that, man?"
Other friends quickly jumped in to salvage the situation: "His legs might be healing, but his brain's still foggy. Don't take it personally, Emma."
The moment passed in a flurry of forced laughter and changed subjects, but Diego remained completely silent, neither confirming nor denying what he'd said.
I stood frozen behind his wheelchair, my hands still on the handles, suddenly grateful that no one could see my face as the last fragments of my heart turned to dust.
The Portuguese midfielder I'd loved so desperately had just made his position crystal clear—not in the privacy of his hospital room, but publicly, in front of everyone who mattered to him.
As the party continued around us, I noticed Diego's mother watching me from across the room, her eyes filled with a sad understanding. She'd heard him, and unlike his friends, she knew he'd meant every word.
An "almost daughter-in-law" becoming just a symbolic sister—the demotion was complete.
I maintained my composure, smiling when appropriate, answering questions when addressed directly. Years of holding myself together through Diego's worst outbursts had prepared me for this moment, though I'd never imagined it would end this way.
After what felt like an eternity, I excused myself to get some air on the balcony. The cool night breeze on my face was a blessed relief, and I gripped the railing tightly, staring out at the city lights of Porto blurring through my tears.
Behind me, the door slid open. I quickly wiped my eyes, expecting one of Diego's friends with more awkward consolation.
Instead, it was Diego himself, wheeling out onto the balcony. Somehow he'd managed to navigate the sliding door on his own—another small victory I would have celebrated just hours ago.
"Emma," he began, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant.
I turned to face him, my expression carefully neutral. "You should be inside with your friends. It's getting chilly out here."
"What I said in there—"
"Was perfectly clear," I finished for him. "And now everyone knows exactly where we stand."
For two years, I'd been his most passionate defender, his most devoted caregiver, his most unwavering believer. Now, I would be nothing at all.
Behind us, the party continued without pause, as if my world hadn't just ended with eleven careless words.