Chapter 41 Emmett
Emmett
I can’t sleep.
It’s the only time since Arthur’s retirement party that Reese and I have actively chosen not to stay together. Of course, there are the nights on the road we can’t get to each other, or the two days she was away for an owners’ meeting. But we’ve never chosen to be apart.
Until tonight.
I didn’t choose shit, actually. And after being alone for more than twenty years, I’ve very quickly become terrible at sleeping without her next to me.
But even if she were lying in bed with me, I’m not entirely sure sleep would find me anyway. Guilt is too busy gnawing away as I toss and turn. Stress is too demanding of my attention for me to find any sense of calm.
It’s taken everything in me not to call her. To apologize for putting her in this position and for not protecting her the way I should’ve. It was selfish, asking her to come to Miller’s wedding with me. I was greedy, and now look where that got us.
But I haven’t called her tonight because I’m afraid if I say anything right now, it’ll push her to make a decision she’ll feel obligated to make.
Reese didn’t have to spell it out for me. I already know that if she steps down as president, I’ll be able to keep my job. Scott wants me to keep my job.
If and when news got out about Reese and me, it would be a whole lot less damning if she were simply the distant team owner and not my direct supervisor on the baseball side of the business.
If she didn’t directly control my contract extension, if she wasn’t involved in the daily decision-making, there wouldn’t be a whole lot to say.
And that’s exactly why she’s going to give up her position.
She’s going to step down to keep my job safe.
There’s also the option that maybe she’ll end things with me and try to protect me that way.
I’m not good with either of those outcomes.
Another question swirling in my mind is if Reese does hand over the presidency to Scott, allowing us to stay together, how long until the resentment builds?
Another man has already tried to take this from her, and though I’m not going about it in the same way, if she lost her job, the result would be the same.
How could she not resent me for losing the only thing she’s ever wanted?
Even if she did decide to fight it and Scott gives those photos to certain journalists who simply want to sell a story without knowing the facts, I can’t handle watching her go through the hate again. She doesn’t deserve that.
If we had more time, if Scott hadn’t insisted this happen tomorrow, we could come up with a plan to get our story out in the right way. We should’ve already done that, but Reese wasn’t ready, and I don’t blame her. She just got through hell with the press. She’s not ready for another round.
Lying here, alone in my dark apartment, I’m done.
I’m done feeling helpless. I’m done being helpless.
I have always prided myself on taking care of what’s mine, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
There’s still a way for Reese to keep her position. She didn’t mention it earlier today because in her mind, it’s not an option.
But if I quit my job, what’s the press going to say then?
My contract extension is the most damning part of this all.
It could easily be spun to look as if I was only with her to renew my job.
But if I took that off the table, not just the extension but my entire position, what would the press have to say then? Nothing. They’d have no fucking story.
Two people fell for each other, so one of them left their job so they could be together. Pretty boring story if you ask me.
I promised Reese I’d take care of her because she deserves to be taken care of, and tomorrow, I’m going to do exactly that.
“Hey, what’s up?” Isaiah asks, closing my office door behind him. “You wanted to see me?”
His eyes trail to find his brother in my office as well. Kai has a shoulder leant against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, just as confused as to what’s going on. He thought we were having a pregame pitching lineup meeting until I told him we needed to wait for Isaiah.
Standing from my desk, I round it to the other side, sitting back on the edge. “I wanted to talk to both of you before the game.”
Kai and Isaiah look at each other, silently asking the other what’s going on.
“I just needed you boys to hear it from me that after the game tonight, I’m going to be stepping down from coaching this team.”
Kai pushes off the wall, standing up straight. “What?”
“Nothing is going to change between the three of us. We’re—”
“Hold up.” Kai screws his eyes shut, holding his hands up to stop me. “What the fuck are you talking about, Monty?”
I don’t know why I thought this was going to be easy. I suppose because my conversation with Miller this morning was. As soon as I told her I was stepping down, she completely understood where I was coming from.
But it’s different with Miller. She’s been questioning what Reese and I were going to do about work for a while now. This was on her radar.
It clearly wasn’t on Kai or Isaiah’s.
I exhale a long breath. “Miller already knows. I talked to her this morning, but I asked her to let me be the one to tell you guys. I’m going to be stepping down after today’s game. Things are complicated right now. There’s some stuff happening behind the scenes.”
“What kind of stuff?” Isaiah asks, frustration lining his tone. “What does that even mean?”
“Threats to Reese’s position. Threats to make our relationship look bad in the media, and I need to protect her from that. This is how I can do that. This is the only way I know how to do that.”
Silence fills my office.
Kai’s brows are furrowed. His face is etched in anger and confusion.
Isaiah’s expression is a bit blank. His mouth is parted without words to say.
“Nothing will change between the three of us. You guys are my family. Have been since I met you. And hell . . .” I gesture to Kai. “You’re legally stuck with me now anyway.”
The humor doesn’t diffuse anything. Both of them are still silent, staring at me in disbelief.
I’m doing my best to make this easy, but the truth is, telling them is breaking my heart. The three of us met here. We’ve become family because of our time together here. I’ve loved being involved with this team, both on and off the field.
I’d like to believe that nothing is going to change, but certain things will.
I’ll still be their friend. I’ll still be Kai’s father-in-law.
But I don’t know that I’ll still be the guy they come to for advice or when they need to talk something out.
Baseball has bonded us in that way. Me being their coach has made our dynamic what it is, and I can only hope that it stays the same when I’m no longer involved with the team.
“Someone say something.”
“But you love your job,” Isaiah finally chimes in.
“Of course I do, but . . .” I scrub a palm over my face, swallowing down the lump in my throat. “Look, I’ve lost someone once before and I can’t go through that again. As much as I love my job, it’s not worth losing Reese over. Not even close.”
“Whatever is going on, you’re not going to lose Reese over it,” Kai argues. “There’s no way.”
“I don’t know that for certain, and it’s more complicated than that anyway.
It’s not just a matter of us staying together.
Which, yeah, that is a question on my mind.
It’s also about doing what’s best for her, even if that means I need to sacrifice some things.
That’s worth it to me. I can’t just sit back and watch her lose everything she’s worked for.
I wouldn’t want her to want that version of me.
Someone who doesn’t fight for their people. ”
They both lose their arguments, understanding beginning to settle in.
“You two know better than anyone that you take care of your family first, and this is me taking care of mine.”
“I get it,” Isaiah finally agrees. “I would do the same thing for Kennedy. Hell, I tried to do the same thing for Kennedy. I tried to leave my job so she could have hers. And you supported me in that decision. I don’t like this, but I understand your reasoning.”
I look to Kai, but he’s got his arms crossed at his chest, not budging on his anger. “There’s got to be another option.”
“Yeah, if we had more time, we’d probably have a different solution here. But Reese is being told to step down from baseball operations tonight. Right after the game. So, we’re out of time.”
His jaw tics in frustration. “This is bullshit.”
“Couldn’t agree more.”
“I’m not coaching under someone else.”
“Shut the fuck up. Yes, you are.” I exhale a laugh, and it feels nice.
“Look, I’ve made peace with this decision.
I made peace with this decision months ago, in fact.
It’s just a job. I’ll get another one. So, let’s not be so dramatic about this, okay?
I’ll probably be at your house for dinner in like two days. ”
“Fine. This is stupid though. Anyone who knows you two or has seen you together would know it’s genuine. The fact that anyone could spin this differently is bullshit. But Reese is under more scrutiny than anyone else in the league, so I guess I get it.”
I smack him on the shoulder. “It’ll be all right.”
“Fuck this.” He uncrosses his arms to give me a hug. “Love you, Monty.”
Isaiah does the same. “So do I.”
“Love you both too, but let’s go. We have a game to win. No way am I going out with an L.”
I may have told the Rhodes boys not to be dramatic about this decision, but I’m being dramatic as hell about it.
I try to hold on to every moment of my pregame ritual, knowing it’s my last time doing it.
Filling out the lineup card for the final time.
Meeting with our bench coach, base coaches, and pitching coach to go over tonight’s strategy.
Doing pregame media interviews.
I soak it all in, trying to hold on to it for a day I know I’ll be missing it a little extra.
I try not to dwell on the fact that this place has become my second home or that this team and staff are my second family.
As I said, I’m being dramatic.
But nothing is as dramatic as the way a rock lodges in the back of my throat when it’s time for my pregame speech to my players.
In the clubhouse, they all sit in their respective locker stalls as I go over the strategies we have in place for tonight. They all listen intently as I discuss the opposing team’s batting lineup and our own.
We go over a couple more housekeeping items, and that’s usually where I end these meetings, but before I call it done, I add one more thing.
“And um . . .” I clear my throat, tapping my game notepad against my palm as I attempt to get my shit together. “I don’t say this often enough, but I truly love each and every one of you guys. Getting to coach you has been one of the best things I’ve done with my life.”
My attention ticks to Isaiah but he can’t look at me, eyes locked on the carpet, head tilted low.
Cody and Travis keep glancing over at each other, silently asking what the hell I’m on about.
Poor Milo sits in his locker stall, eyes wide and so fucking confused.
“This job and the years I’ve spent here brought my passion for the game back. I found a lot of myself again here. And I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to coach you all.”
Silence suffocates the typical rowdy clubhouse. Tension lines the wall. Confusion sits heavy on everyone’s expressions.
So much for me not being dramatic about this.
“So, uh . . . yeah.” I nod along. “Let’s go win a game!”
That does absolutely nothing to get the energy back in the room, but I wasn’t sure if I’d get a chance to talk to them all as a group again after tonight and I couldn’t risk not having the opportunity.
Thankfully a bit more fire ignites under the guys when they take the field for warmups, and that pregame focus really zeros in for everyone as the time ticks down closer to the first pitch.
Like a fool, I allow myself to hope for a dugout visit from Reese.
I wait for it. I long for it.
It never comes. She never comes.
And when I look up into her owner’s suite, needing just a glimpse of her, I find it empty. And it stays that way for the entire game.