52. ISABELLA
fifty-two
Monarchs lose.
And it’s all my fault.
After Charlie got me home safely, I turned on the TV to see what happened. Which was a bad idea. Because all I could see was the rage on Mateo’s face as his fist pummeled into Jeremy’s face.
I did this to him. A man whose reputation has been pristine for almost fifteen years has been officially tarnished because he felt like he had to jump in and protect my honor.
I shut the TV off and make my way upstairs to shower. But then it suddenly feels wrong to do so in the shower I’ve shared countless times with Mateo.
This home was built on his baseball legacy. And tonight, I played a part in tearing it down.
So I grab the few things I need and head downstairs to my old room. I shower and quickly get into my old bed. I have no idea when Mateo will get home. Shit, will he be arrested? I start to panic, the incessant alerts of people trying to reach me on my phone tipping me over the edge. So I shut it off and lower myself under the covers, hoping like I did when I was a child that the nightmares can’t reach me if I bundle myself tightly.
With barely controlled sobs and a mind-numbing headache, exhaustion eventually takes pity on me, and I fall into a restless sleep.