3. Logan
One Year Ago
Nose tucked into a book, knees pulled up to my chest, and glasses sliding down my nose, I curled into myself on the couch as the girl finally succumbed to her feelings for the guy in the book I had started earlier this morning. I had only been reading for the last two hours, hanging onto the edge of the damn sofa to get to this point.
I hadn’t been able to eat, sleep, or move until I read about how she finally admitted she loved the sucker.
“Are you going to shower, babe?” Richard asked from the kitchen, sipping on a green protein shake. Scrunching my nose at his choice of a meal, I shook my head.
“Not right now. Need to finish this,” I muttered, rereading the last sentence again.
“I don’t know why you bother reading those. They all end the same,” he continued the conversation, and I sighed, knowing I had to put the book down. Once he started, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.
“What do you mean?” I asked, sticking my bookmark between the pages and closing the book.
“Boy meets girl. She, for some reason, won’t be with him, even though she’s attracted, and same for the guy. But then, something tragic happens, and they end up together. Then, boom—they fall in love.” He finished his protein shake with a burp, and I rolled my eyes.
Typical pig.
“I still don’t understand why you’re questioning why I read. Every book is different.” He shook his head, leaving his glass in the sink for me to rinse and put in the dishwasher. He’d grown up being an only child, and his mother just about kissed the ground he walked on, so he didn’t understand the concept of doing chores.
“Seems like a waste of time to me when, you know, they are going to end up together.” He headed for our bedroom, shrugging his shoulders.
“What else would you propose I do?” I asked, humoring him while I pick up the book again.
“Me, of course!” He slammed the door behind him just as I considered tossing one of the decorative pillows at his head.
Pig.
Ignoring him, I got lost between the pages again. A few minutes later, he headed out for his pre-game run, leaving me with peace and quiet.
* * *
A few hours later,I had finished my book, cleaned our apartment, loaded the dishwasher, and showered. After looking over my reflection, I gathered my long, black hair into a ponytail, curled the ends, and swiped a layer of pink gloss to my lips.
It was hot outside today, and the jersey I had to wear with Richard’s last name on it was thick and heavy, making the already unbearable heat suffocating.
I paired his jersey with a pair of cut-off jean shorts, hoping to at least to catch a tan while watching the game. Sticking my ponytail through the back of a baseball cap for the Atlanta Braves, I slid on my Ray Bans and exited the bathroom.
Scarlett was waiting for me in the lounge, channel surfing while her boyfriend, Matt, scrolled through his phone. She threw the controller to the coffee table and stood. “About damn time. I don’t want to have the worst seats, you know?” Matt rolled his eyes but stood and followed her to the front door.
“You do know we have assigned seats, right?” I grabbed my keys and bag from the kitchen and then locked the front door behind us.
“Don’t waste your breath, Logan. Scar here thinks it’s a lotto system.” Scarlett flushed and shoved her boyfriend.
“I do not think that, you oaf. I was just being dramatic because you are late, as usual.” She pointed at me as we exited the building and got into Matt’s white Wrangler.
“Whatever. Sue me for wanting to look good for Rich. You know he likes to take a picture after the game with the paps to show everyone he’s not a playboy.”
Matt and Scarlett shared a look but didn’t say anything as we merged onto the highway toward the stadium where the Atlanta Braves were expected to play the Tampa Bay Rays in just two hours. Richard hadn’t voiced his concerns with me, but I knew he was nervous about the game, mostly because of some player he mentioned his coach was interested in recruiting.
Said player would be sharing the role of pitcher with Richard, and he hated the idea of an alternative for days when his coach thought he wasn’t good enough.
“Do you know anything about the other team?” Scarlett asked, fiddling with the radio station until Luke Combs’s voice crooned through the speakers.
“Not much, but Rich is nervous. They must be worthwhile competition then.”
“I hear Jaxon Dexter is cute.” She swiveled around in her seat to wiggle her brows at me suggestively. “The perfect step in the right direction away from Richard.”
“You do know I am sitting right here?” Matt asked his girlfriend, and she scoffed.
“Of course, honey. I’m looking for a man for my best friend because Richard isn’t her forever man.”
“What happened to not getting involved?” He flipped the turn signal and exited the highway, joining a long line of cars waiting to get into the stadium.
Scarlett huffed, crossed her arms over her chest, and looked out the window. “Seriously, Matthew, I hate when you do that.”
And I seriously hated being the in the middle of their lover spat.
“Do what? Remind you of the things you said you wouldn’t do at home not even an hour ago?” He chuckled, but Scarlett wasn’t amused in the slightest.
Turning to face me, she ignored her boyfriend, who meant well, and placed her hand on my knee.
“You know I mean well, right? Even though this idiot drives me crazy, I want you to be happy like I am. I don’t want you to be miserable anymore.” She squeezed my leg. I knew exactly what she was trying to do; it was what she always did. Taking care of people was what she loved to do most. It was probably why she became a nurse.
Blinking back the sudden prickling behind my eyes, I rested my hand on hers and squeezed. “I know, Scar. I know.”
“I hate it when you two get all emotional, man,” Matt groaned, and Scarlett giggled.
“You’re just jealous, honey.” She turned back to the front and reached for his hand, their fingers interlocking on the center console.
She wasn’t wrong. I wanted what she had with Matt. I wanted that delirious kind of love. The type that knocked me off my feet and showed me exactly what I had been missing in life. The kind of love my parents had.
* * *
We lostthe first game of the season, and Richard was a sore loser. I watched from the stands as he chucked his glove to the dirt and shouted angrily at his coach.
We’d only been together for a year, and the more I observed his behavior, the more I found to hate about him. Regardless, I waited for him like always with Scarlett and Matt at my side, but today, he didn’t reach for me. Instead, he shoved the cameras out of his face and stormed past me and the rest of his fans like I was just some girl he didn’t know.
“What the hell was that about?” Scar wrapped her hand around my forearm as the fans shoved past us to get to him and the other teammates.
“Sore loser,” I mumbled, watching his team follow behind him, heads bent down in disappointment, their girlfriends and wives at their sides.
“We have dinner at Matt’s parents’ tonight, but we can drop you off at home.” She played with a lock of my hair, soothing my racing heart at Richard’s rejection.
“Uh, yea, if you don’t mind,” I stuttered, looking at the empty spot where he’d walked past me. “I can’t believe he did that,” I whispered, turning to her. Without my sunglasses covering my eyes, she could see the tears pooling, and her smile faded.
“It’ll be okay. Maybe he didn’t see you.” She pulled me into a hug, and I sniffled, trying my hardest to keep the tears at bay.
“Maybe.”
She led me to Matt’s Jeep and sat in the backseat with me, wiping away the few stray tears that fell before helping me reapply my lip gloss. She pulled a brush through my knotted hair and squirted some perfume on my neck during the short drive.
“Now, you’re going to walk in there and demand answers. I don’t care if he lost. You’re his girlfriend, and he shouldn’t have treated you like that. I’m a phone call away, okay?” I wrapped my arms around her neck and pulled her into a hug.
“You’re the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you. And Matt, you better take care of her. This one is special, and if you hurt her… Well, I’ll just have to kill you.” My voice cracked, and Matt chuckled, his eyes focused on Scarlett, so much love shining in them.
“I couldn’t hurt her. She’d hurt me first. You know that.”
“Damn right and don’t you ever forget it,” she chirped, getting us all to laugh.
I exited the Wrangler and waved as they pulled away. Entering the lobby of the apartment building, I greet the doorman, who smiled at me and bowed his head.
“I heard they lost?” He frowned, and I nodded.
“Unfortunately, but they can’t always win, I guess.” Shrugging, I bid him goodbye and headed down the hall to our shared apartment.
Unlocking the door, I pushed it open and paused at the sight of his discarded shoes. Next to them were a smaller pair of white tennis sneakers, but they weren’t mine.
Don’t overthink.
He wouldn’t cheat.
Take a deep breath.
It’s going to be okay.
“Rich, are you home, baby?” My voice shook as I kicked off my sneakers and dropped my bag on the couch.
There wasn’t an answer, but our bedroom door was closed. I knew I left it open earlier.
“Richard?” I called again, holding my phone in my shaking hand.
He cursed from behind the door, and then, there was movement. Before I could twist open the doorknob, he was throwing it open, bare-chested.
“Hey, babe,” he said, running a hand through his messy hair. Running my eyes over him, my eyes tracked the red lipstick marks on his neck and jaw.
“Who’s in there?” I whispered, my heart threatening to pound right out of my chest.
“No one. I was just about to shower,” he lied, but he wouldn’t let me into our bedroom.
“Who’s in there, Richard?” I asked again, this time anger lacing my tone, and his eyes hardened.
He let the door open, and there, lying in our bed, was some young girl with red lips. Her hair was ruffled, her eyes big and wild as she watched the encounter. There was no shame in her expression. She waved, her lips tilting into a smile.
“Are you going to join us?” She sounded young, and despite the false bravado she was portraying, I saw fear in her eyes.
“You pig.” I stuck my finger in Richard’s chest, and he had the audacity to grin. “How dare you?!” I screamed, storming past him to get to my closet.
“What are you doing, babe?” He followed me into the walk-in closet as I shoved a few of my things into a duffle bag. He then followed me into the bathroom, where I swiped all my makeup products into the bag.
“Leaving. We are done, Richard.”
“Babe, wait—let me explain.” He gripped my elbow, but I yanked my arm out of his hold.
“Don’t touch me! I am done with this relationship. I don’t want to ever see you again. I’ll come by when you are at practice to get the rest of my things, but I am leaving now!” I threw whatever my fingertips touched into the bag, zipped it closed, and rushed out of the room, away from the whore in our bed.
“Good! Leave! I didn’t like you that much anyway. And you know what, Logan?” Stopping in the center of our apartment, my chest rising and falling with adrenaline, I looked at him. His hair was messy from her fingers, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were wild. And he was naked except for a pair of black boxers.
“What?” His face twisted into a sneer, and I braced myself.
“You were fucking terrible in bed. I would have been better off with a mannequin than you. I had to find someone else to satisfy my needs.” Rushing out of the apartment, I slammed the door in his face before he could see the tears streaming down my cheeks.