I’m grateful. It’s like a train wreck. I can’t look away, even though I want to. His hand is the shield I need.

“Is this going to end up all over social media?” I have to consider what that will be like, how difficult it will be to defend my relationship with him. How humiliating it will be.

“No. This is the only copy of that picture left.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I deleted all of them.”

“All of them? There were more?”

“Tash tried to take a few, but they were blurry.”

Of all the conversations I’ve had over the years concerning exes, this is definitely the most unorthodox. “Is she going to keep contacting me?”

“I don’t know. She’s vindictive, but I told her not to. It wouldn’t take much for me to cause her a lot of problems if she does. It won’t look good for her that she’s still been in contact with me after everything that happened.”

“Do you think she’ll send me other things? Pictures? Messages? Videos?”

“There aren’t any videos, but we were together for a while. She’ll have old pictures of her and me.”

I consider what may lie ahead. Dating someone like Lance puts a spotlight on me. I’m not sure how I’m going to manage that. Or if I can. What if things like this keep happening?

“Did she call the night before you went away?”

“Aye.”

“And you talked to her?” My chest feels tight. If I’d asked this question before he’d gone, would we still be dealing with this mess?

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because she won’t leave me alone if I don’t answer. It had been weeks of her bullshit before I did.”

“Why not block her?”

“I have. I did. She messaged from someone else’s phone.”

That makes sense, but it still doesn’t answer the most important question. “Why didn’t you tell me about her before you went away? Why lie?”

Lance takes a sip of his water and clears his throat. “I didn’t want to mess things up and make you worry while I was gone. I guess that kind of backfired, huh?”

“I don’t understand the point of keeping it from me. Why not be honest that your ex was going to be there in the first place? This makes it look like you were hiding it.”

“That’s not what I meant to do.” He’s so forlorn.

“If we’re going to have any chance of working, we have to be transparent with each other. Especially about this kind of thing. It’s not avoidable, but I don’t want to be blindsided by it. Today was horrible for me. I’ve spent the entire day on edge, feeling awful and wondering what was so damaging that you needed to be here before I could see it.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But you get why I asked for that, right?”

“How often is this kind of thing going to happen? Are you going to avoid going out with your teammates every time you’re in LA? I mean, really, even that isn’t enough, is it?”

“Maybe you could come with me next time.”

“To LA?”

“Aye.”

“Why would I come to LA when you don’t even have me come to home games? What are you hiding from me? Her?”

“I’m not hiding anything. I’m protecting you.”

“From what? Or who?”

“The bunnies, the media crap. People will take pictures of you just like when we went out for dinner. But if you come to LA, you’ll know exactly where I am and what I’m doing.”

“It’s not the media I’m worried about. I don’t want to police your actions, Lance. I want to be part of your life, more than just this little slice you’ve carved out for us.”

“I just don’t want you dragged into all the shitty stuff that comes with being with someone like me.”

“You mean like Tash? You said she comes to your games when you’re in LA. And if she’s there, then what? Will she confront me? Will she do things to hurt me? You?”

He drops his head again. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I told her it was done for good this time, that I wasn’t doing this with her any more. And I meant it. I don’t want to be that person.”

“I don’t understand why you still talk to her when she does these kinds of things to you. Why answer her calls at all? Why is she still messaging you?”

“She got vindictive if I didn’t respond. I didn’t feel like I had a choice.”

“But you gave her that power. Why let her have it at all?”

He’s fidgety, struggling with my questions. “I don’t know. We have similar backgrounds. She made it hard to walk away.”

“You realize these are all excuses you’re making for both of you. She still seems like part of your present, like you can’t let her go. If it’s only me, it can’t be her, too.”

“But she’s not part of my present any more. I told her that last night. I know she’s not good for me, and I don’t want that any more.”

“This is a discussion we should’ve had before you went away. We’ve been seeing each other for weeks. When would you have told me about her if this hadn’t happened?”

“I wanted to. I would have,” he says quickly.

“But when? She’s called when I’ve been with you. Do you call her back later? When we’re not together?”