Chapter 44
ROMAN
Evie’s voice drifts from my phone’s speaker as I sit at the hotel bar and nurse my beer.
It’s warm now, but I’ve brushed the bartender off the last two times he’s tried to offer me another, having recognized me the moment I sat down.
The same can be said of the two players sitting at a dimly lit table a few feet to my left.
Finn and Wes played exceptionally well today, and while I don’t like to favour one player over another after a win, it’s obvious to both them and the entire fan base that they stole the show.
The dynamic duo rarely stumbles when they play together. Tonight, it was magic.
Wes wasn’t nearly as distracted as he has been these last few weeks, and Finn fed off that clarity, leading to a twelve-strikeout night to close the series. I’ve got a list of things to praise them both for once we’re home and I’ve taken care of what’s been keeping me on edge all week.
“I’ve never thought about that, Uncle. But that might . . . I think that might possibly be the most brilliant idea you’ve ever had.”
I pull my focus in and stare at the dewy beer glass. “I could be overstepping.”
That’s an understatement.
“It’s worth it, isn’t it? If you don’t try, then you risk losing her, and that’s not only going to suck for you, but royally suck for me. Not to mention, I’ll absolutely hold a grudge against you for it.”
“That’s not entirely motivational, Evie.”
“You don’t need motivation.”
“What, then?”
“Have you told her about Mom?” she asks so suddenly I don’t have a chance to prepare myself. “Is that what this is actually about? Why she’s stepping back?”
I clear my throat, but it only tightens further.
“That’s what I thought. You haven’t told her any of the important details. How are you supposed to prove yourself to her if you don’t open up? I’ve wanted to tell her a thousand times already, but I didn’t want to take that from you once I knew you were involved.”
It’s a better assumption for her to have than the truth. That I broke Brielle’s trust in an incredibly personal way and am left floundering, trying to figure out just one fucking thing to do that could make up for it.
She isn’t even wrong about Lena, either. I haven’t shared the deepest parts of that story with Brielle. Those details have been buried so deep inside of me that just the prospect of dragging them back up makes me want to puke.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide them forever. What I said about marriage, a family, it was all true. We can’t have either without me baring every inch of my soul to her. Until she sees all of the broken parts and decides that I’m still worth keeping.
My face drops as I feel the weight of what’s to come start to press down.
“What are you afraid of?” Evie asks, her voice gentle now. “It’s been five years, Uncle. She’s not coming back.”
“You’re not supposed to be the one taking care of me. It needs to be the other way around.”
“According to who?”
I shut my eyes, feeling a prickle behind them. “It’s just how things should be. I’m the adult here.”
“You had her for longer than I did. Why do I need to be the only one who needs help?”
There’s a wobble in her voice. It’s raw, so, so fucking raw.
I push away from the bar, needing to go.
To find somewhere the walls aren’t closing in on me and the air isn’t so thin.
I keep my phone pressed hard to my ear as I pick up the pace and slip down a hallway.
There’s an abandoned housekeeping cart pushed against the wall and a storage closet with the door open.
I bypass them both and turn the corner, finding it completely empty.
My back meets the wall. I knock my head against it and take a deep breath.
“I should—” My voice cracks. I try again.
“She trusted you with me. To take care of you. Finish raising you. I never gave her any reason to do that. It’s a miracle she didn’t put it in the will to have me play no part in that.
” My laugh is bitter. “We fought every time we saw each other that last year. I had seen her with your father so many times then, and I made it my mission to make sure she knew how much I hated the choices she’d been making.
It wasn’t fair to you for her to be around him when you were old enough to know that he wasn’t going to stay.
That he was never going to want to be a proper father.
“You were confused, hurt, angry. I watched you see them together, and fuck. Your eyes would fill with hope, like you sent prayers every night asking for it to be different that time. She knew I hated him, and I think that made her bring him around more than her simply never moving on from him did. That’s just .
. . what we did. We pissed each other off for fun, like we wanted to see who’d lose their mind first so we’d have bragging rights.
It was so pathetic. And then suddenly, there were no more competitions.
I was just some immature man-child with a pathetic dating history, an embarrassingly short MLB career, and a sixteen-year-old girl that I was now the sole guardian of.
No part of me believes that I deserved the gift she gave me, Evie.
Not when I’d been so careless with the one I’d gotten when she was born.
So, why do I get to mourn her more than you?
Why should you have to take care of me, when the least I should be able to do is make sure you’re okay? ”
I press my knuckles to my lips and try to breathe through closed teeth. There’s silence all around me, taunting, punishing.
“Mom loved you. She loved you, and she loved me, and if it had been anyone else who had taken me in, I wouldn’t be who I am now.
You can think that you don’t deserve to grieve, but you do.
It’s what she would have wanted. Especially now.
You’ve already taken care of me. I need to heal myself now, and you need to let Brielle help heal the parts of you that you’ve neglected for so long.
You can’t stay locked up forever, or you’ll stay living half-broken. ”
Sniffing, I choke on a laugh. “I didn’t teach you any of this.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you how different I am now than I was, Uncle. You just haven’t been listening.”
“You’re still my niece. Still Lena’s little girl, just with less gum in your hair and scraped knees.”
“I did that one time,” she says, a smile obvious in her tone.
“Once was enough. I had peanut butter under my fingernails for three days.”
She laughs softly, letting it taper off. “Can you promise me that even if it doesn’t work out with Brielle, you’ll at least be honest with her?”
“Will you still hold a grudge?”
“Maybe for a few days. But you can’t blame me! You know even better than I do how amazing she is. I don’t want to lose her.”
“Yes, I’ll do everything in my power to keep her, Evie. Even the things that terrify me.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me for that. Just . . . don’t go too far yet. Don’t stop letting me be here for you because I’m not ready to lose that yet.”
“Like I ever could. You’re too stubborn, anyway.”
“Remember that.”
“And for what it’s worth, I have never wished that Mom had chosen anyone else.”
I stop breathing long enough to make my lungs burn before I force the words out. “Me either.”
The latest text I wrote out disappears as I delete the three words.
I miss you.
It’s not enough to describe what I’m feeling.
The lack of contact between us is the absolute opposite of what I want.
Her silence is killing me slowly. I have one more night here before I’m back in Vancouver for two weeks, yet I’ve already wasted five hundred dollars on an economy flight set to take off in half an hour.
It’s going to leave without me. I knew that when I bought it hours ago.
Brielle was clear with her decision, even if I have wanted to do nothing more than disregard it every day this week.
If I close my eyes, the only thing I see is her. She’s in my bed, wearing nothing but my shirt, on my couch flipping through movies on the TV, in the passenger seat of my car with a pair of my sunglasses perched on her head while she browses the playlist I made for her.
The reason for this drift is infuriating.
I should never have even been on that site, let alone watching and conversing with a woman hidden behind a camera and username.
My inability to allow anyone to get close to me kept me alone and hungry for a love that might overcome the pain I was feeling.
Before I even knew who she was, Brielle was filling that gaping hole in my chest. I should be ashamed of that, but I’m not.
Not when for even a few minutes every day, she brought me some form of peace, whether she knew it or not.
My only regret is not telling her the moment I realized who she was. Instead of deleting my account and hiding from it, I should have come out and told her that first night in my car. The loss of those early days will haunt me for the rest of my life if she chooses to say goodbye.
I missed so many nights with her because of my refusal to accept the pull I felt. And if I can’t make up for them . . .
“We went from never seeing you to finding you everywhere, Coach,” Wesley says.
I let my hands sag between my knees and look at the group of guys coming toward me. Wesley, Finn, Beckett—they’re all focused on my hunched-over figure. The parking lot is packed full tonight, but they don’t so much as pay any of the cars a glance as they approach.
My breaths came easier once I got outside and said good night to Evie. The curb is hard beneath my ass, making it utterly numb by now. Still, I don’t stand.
“Isn’t that what you were wanting?” I ask dully.
Beck’s expression tightens the longer he looks at me, so I check on Finn instead. He’s even worse.
“Are you waiting for someone?” Wesley asks with a sweep of his eyes over the parking lot.
“No.”
It’s Finn who asks, “Want company, then?”
Beck moves behind me and then to my side before dropping to sit without waiting for confirmation. “He does.”
“We just had a three-game sweep. This is what I like to consider the perfect time to be celebrating, Rome. Not hiding out on the curb alone, looking like you’re waiting for someone to drive by and hit you,” Wesley says, sitting on my other side.
He replicates my posture while Beck stretches his legs out in front of himself, and Finn shifts to stand in my direct view, his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“What time do we leave tomorrow?” Beck asks.
I clear my throat. “Nine.”
“Are you seeing my sister after that?” Wesley pops the knuckles in his fingers one by one. “I’m assuming so.”
Slowly, I glance at the other two men. Beck has already made his knowledge of me and Brielle well known, but Finn . . . clearly, Aubrey has told him. Not a single one of them looks surprised to hear Wesley ask me about her.
“I was hoping to. If she’ll let me.”
“Whatever it is you did,” Finn starts, “make sure you bring wine with you. When it comes to Aubrey and Brielle, wine is the easiest way to get bonus points.”
I almost smile, remembering her order to pick some up for her night with Evie. “I’ve started piecing that together.”
“Brielle appreciates acts of service. Like the big, romantic shit. She doesn’t like many rom-coms, but I’ve always thought that was a front. One time, she started crying because she saw this old guy get his wife some flowers at one of those stands on the side of the road,” Wesley says.
“Flowers, wine . . . what else?” Beck rubs his palms together. “Get her an ‘I’m Sorry’ charm for the bracelet she always wears.”
I smile.
It’s automatic, like there’s string on either side of my lips that’s been tugged by some higher power.
I don’t fight it, either, even if just months ago, I would have done anything possible to avoid being in a situation like this.
I’m surrounded by three of my best players, but right now, that isn’t who they are.
They’re my friends.
“That’s lame, isn’t it? You can’t do all three of those things, Rome,” Wesley argues.
Beck scoffs loudly. “Why not? The entire premise of a grand gesture is to be grand, asshole. If anything, he should drop the flowers. She’d just kill them.”
“I bet she’d be able to keep them alive. Even a week is better than nothing. Aubrey’s managed five days before,” Finn says, chest puffing.
There’s not a single part of me that wants to interrupt them. So, I let them talk and soak in the moment, letting it confirm to my once cynical mind that this isn’t anything to fear. My position on the team doesn’t mean I have to avoid these conversations.
It should be encouraging me to have them instead.
So I don’t pull away. I sit, and I stay, and with the three of them, I finish my plan.