“What about the baby?”
For a second my heart stopped. How did he know?
“What if you’re pregnant?” he continued. His desperation clawed at my chest, making my heartache that much more painful. “You can’t raise a baby alone.”
I stood up a little straighter and looked him in the eye. “I can and, if it happens, I will. That was my original plan, remember? It was you and Matt who decided you wanted to be involved. But now I’m telling you it’s not necessary.”
“Why? Why are you doing this?”
“Because it’s for the best. For all of us.” And it was…for them, at least.
It was his turn to shake his head. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking defiant. “I’m not giving up on you, Rachel Andrews. I’m not giving up on us, or the family we talked about.” He looked so earnest, it hurt.
I opened my mouth to argue with him further, make it clear that my decision was final. The words never got out. My stomach chose that moment to turn over, making me clamp my mouth shut and take a deep breath, praying that the nausea would pass.
Ethan reached out in concern. “You look really pale. Are you all right?”
No! I was so not all right. Nothing about this situation felt right. I finally had my baby, but I was losing the two men who could make a family with me. I’d finally found love and now I was forced to drive it away or risk hurting everyone.
“I didn’t sleep last night,” I lied. “I just need to lie down.”
He nodded, helping me into a chair. “Fine. I’ll leave…for now, and I’ll let you get your sleep.”
I kept my head down to hide the tears that were forming all over again. I couldn’t see his expression, but I heard the hard determination in his voice when he continued. “Don’t think I’m accepting this, sweetheart. I’ll give you time. That’s it. We promised you we’d prove to you that this is the real deal and I mean to make good on that promise.”
***
MATT
This should have been a great day, a day for celebration. Here I was, back in the big leagues. The assistant coach who’d been tasked with showing me around before my final interview led the way through the empty locker room.
Everything about it felt familiar. The lingering smell of sweat and bleach, the distant sound of weights clanging from a training room. In a weird way, it felt like coming home.
Except that it didn’t feel like home. Not anymore.
The coach showed me some of the new state-of-the-art training equipment and I made the appropriate sounds of admiration. Or at least, I hoped I did. Everything looked exactly the same, yet completely different. Years away had changed my perspective. Changed me. My mind was still fixed on the way I’d left things back in Bridgewater.
The whole job thing happened so fast. The flight had been booked and I’d had no choice but to all but run to the plane if I wanted to make it to the meeting. There had been no chance to resolve things before I left and I felt like shit about it. I knew Ethan was pissed. And Rachel? Shit.
I’d tried their phones, but they weren’t answering and I was sick of leaving voicemails. A full day had gone by with no word from either of them and I knew something was wrong and I was, once again, the cause.
Part of me wanted to jump on the next plane to get back and make things right—at least make them understand. I felt uncomfortable in my skin, as if I couldn’t sit still. I was anxious and it was really fucking hard to be “on” for the interviews. I’d made it through several interviews and had one more left. It was the final meeting, the one that would decide my fate. Our fate.
I tried to get excited as the guy told me about the day-to-day tasks of the pitching coach position. I asked informed questions and furrowed my brow so it looked like I was concentrating on his answers. But the moment he started talking, my brain went off on a tangent of doubts and questions while my gut screamed at me to leave and my heart…well my heart felt like there was a chunk missing. All three seemed determined to sabotage this meeting. To sabotage what I’d wanted for years. To be back in the majors.
I almost missed it when the coach asked if I was ready for the final interview.
“Of course,” I said, trying to muster up the appropriate enthusiasm, slapping the guy on the back.
He might have been fooled, but I was not. As I followed him to the conference room, my feet felt like lead. Why did it feel like I was heading in for a root canal without Novocain? My hesitation had nothing to do with nerves. Nah, the job was mine. I knew it.
In fact, I wished I was nervous, at least that would be a sign that I was excited about this job. That I really wanted it.
Because I did want it…didn’t I? This was the break I’d been wanting ever since I blew out my shoulder. I’d wanted a chance back in and I had it. It was right there, I just had to reach out and take it. Yet somehow being here didn’t feel like it did in my dreams. In all those late nights wishing I could be in this exact spot. It felt like I was trying to go back in time and relive a great period of my life.
I was left alone in the room to wait on the head honchos who would have the final say. The longer I sat there, the more I itched to leave. How could I focus on answering interview questions when all I could think about was what was going on at home? Was Rachel running the office in one of her summer dresses? While she would be bare assed underneath, there was nothing showy or inappropriate about my girl. No, she was sweet on the outside and a sexy siren for only me and Ethan.
And yet the last time I saw her, she was upset with me. She knew what a call from the Giants meant