Chapter Thirty-Four
The last ten days have been a whirlwind, with cameras flashing and reporters shouting questions.
The publicity tour went better than I expected.
Now that we're home, the press still can't get enough—radio shows, TV spots, newspapers, the works.
It was as if the moment I landed back in Jacksonville, the whole city lit up.
There's a huge buzz in the media about my return to the Jacksonville Admirals.
We hit all the sports networks, all the local stations, every one hungry for the scoop on my return.
They seemed to play up the rivalry drama between our team and the Altitude.
But the buzz is real, and it's thrilling.
No awkward questions about my past. It feels like the entire baseball world is watching, waiting to see what happens next.
They've got a bad case of fastball fever, and I'm loving every second of it.
Naturally, I'm often asked about the marijuana oil scandal surrounding Morris and Rivera.
Because the criminal cases are still pending, I can't say too much. I keep my answers bland and professional, deflecting with practiced ease. The media vultures are always hungry for a juicy soundbite, but I've learned my lesson about running my mouth off.
"Just focusing on baseball" has become my go-to phrase.
I wonder how the Altitude team will make do without Jared Morris. They've got plenty of good players on their side, and none of them knew anything about Morris and Rivera's vicious little scam. I'm sure they'll be fine.
But today, I have a wedding to attend. The groom is kind of necessary, so I'd better get ready. Never would I ever leave Amy waiting at the altar.
I adjust my bow tie in the mirror, feeling anxious and excited simultaneously. Never thought I'd be the kind of guy to get nervous on his wedding day, but I am. The tux fits perfectly, hugging my shoulders in a way that makes me seem quite respectable.
"You clean up decent, Braddock," says a voice from the doorway.
My best man, Teddy Freeman, leans against the frame, dressed and ready to go.
Yeah, we've become good buddies—and I'm sure he and Alicia will tie the knot soon too.
My sister Kaitlyn has just started dating one of my teammates, Danny Alvarez, and I'd bet my signing bonus there will be another Admirals wedding before long.
Danny's a great guy, and I approve wholeheartedly.
Teddy tosses me a small velvet box. "Don't lose the rings, Braddock, or Coach Keller will have both our asses."
I chuckle, but my hands tremble slightly as I pocket the box. "She's not my coach anymore."
"Nah, now she's your boss for life."
We share a grin, and I turn back to the mirror. It's strange how life works out. Once, I was a player with a bad shoulder who felt washed-up and expected zero prospects. Now I'm marrying the woman who not only fixed my career but stole my heart in the process.
"You nervous?" Teddy asks, coming to stand beside me.
"Nah, of course not." My palms are sweating, though, and there's a flutter in my stomach that makes my pre-game jitters seem like nothing. "Not about marrying Amy, that is. It's the easiest decision I've ever made. But to stand there in front of everyone…"
Teddy claps a hand on my shoulder. "The Charlie Braddock I know isn't afraid of a crowd. You play in front of thousands every week."
"Yeah, but I know what I'm doing on the mound. This is different."
"Just think of it as another game. Eyes on the prize, man."
The prize. That's Amy Keller. Soon to be Amy Braddock.
My best man leads me out of the room, and we make our way through the hotel hallway.
My family booked the entire top floor of Jacksonville's fanciest hotel for the reception.
My parents spared no expense, probably because they never thought they'd see the day their troublemaker son would settle down.
"You got your vows?" Teddy asks as we wait for the elevator.
I pat my breast pocket. "Right here. Though I might just wing it."
"Don't you dare," he warns. "Amy will kill you."
"Relax, I'm kidding." The paper in my pocket has some bullet points, but I've never been good at reading from a script. What I feel for Amy can't be contained in carefully crafted sentences. It's wild and messy and perfect—just like our journey together.
The elevator doors open, and we step inside. My stomach drops as we descend, and it's not just the motion causing the swooping sensation in my gut. This is happening. I'm about to marry the most incredible woman I've ever known.
"You are going to crush this, Charlie." Teddy checks his watch. "Just like game seven against the Altitude last season."
I smile at the memory. Bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, two outs. Amy had prepped me for that exact scenario. "Minus the fastball to the face of their cleanup hitter."
Teddy laughs. "I think Morris deserved it after what he said about your arm."
As the elevator doors glide open, the hotel's grand lobby is revealed.
It's transformed for the occasion—white flowers everywhere, ribbons draped from the ceiling, and a small army of photographers ready to capture every moment.
The Admirals' PR crew insisted on having exclusive photos for the team website, and I didn't have the heart to say no.
Being the face of the franchise comes with its perks and its obligations.
"Showtime," Teddy whispers.
I spot my sister Kaitlyn waving frantically from across the lobby. She's stunning in her bridesmaid dress, a soft blue that complements her eyes—the same shade as mine, a Braddock family trait.
"Charlie!" Katie rushes over, nearly tripping in her heels. "You look incredible! Amy's going to flip when she sees you."
"How is she?"
My sister grins. "Calm as can be. You know Amy. She's treating this like another game day. Said something about 'executing the plan' and 'staying focused on the objective.'"
That sounds exactly like my Amy. Always the coach, even on our wedding day. Knowing Amy is approaching our wedding with her usual steady determination calms me in a way nothing else could. It's one of the countless reasons I love her.
My parents appear, Mom already dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Dad looks uncomfortable but proud in his tuxedo, his hand resting on Mom's back.
"Son," Dad says, extending his hand to me. When I take it, he pulls me into a surprising hug. "You did good. She's a keeper."
"I know, Dad."
Mom fusses with my boutonniere, straightening it unnecessarily. "Your grandfather would have loved to be here. He always said you'd find your way."
Grandpa Braddock was the one who first put a baseball in my hand when I was just a kid.
He'd played minor league ball himself, never quite making it to the majors, but his passion for the game was infectious.
I wish he could see me now—not just because I've made it to the big leagues, but because I've found someone who believes in me the way he did.
Teddy checks his watch. "It's time."
We make our way to the hotel's garden terrace where the ceremony will take place. The late afternoon sun casts a golden glow over everything, and a gentle breeze carries the scent of jasmine and sea salt from the nearby coast. It's perfect—elegant but not stuffy, just like Amy wanted.
I step up to the altar, trying not to fidget as guests fill the rows of white chairs.
I spot several of my Admirals teammates, all looking uncharacteristically polished in their suits.
Even Phil and Ray are here, looking more comfortable than I would've expected.
Those guys were the ones who insisted Amy should take me on as a special project back when my career was circling the drain.
Phil saw something in me that I'd forgotten was there.
The string quartet begins to play, and my heart rate doubles. I wipe my palms on my pants, earning a sarcastically disapproving look from Teddy.
"Dude, keep it together," he murmurs.
"I'm trying," I mutter back.
The bridesmaids begin their procession, each one more beautiful than the last. Kaitlyn winks at me as she takes her place opposite Teddy. Then the music changes, and everyone rises.
And there she is.
My bride appears at the end of the aisle, her arm linked with her father's.
Her dress is simple but stunning, hugging her athletic figure before flowing out around her feet.
Her hair is swept up elegantly, a few tendrils framing her face.
She looks like an angel, all grace and calmness.
Amy smiles directly at me with that same focused look she gets when she's calling plays from the dugout.
It's a look that says she sees exactly what she wants and knows how to get it.
My nervousness evaporates, replaced by a certainty so profound it feels like I'm standing on the mound with a perfect grip on my fastball. This is where I'm supposed to be.
Amy glides toward me, every step purposeful and graceful. When she reaches the altar, her father kisses her cheek and places her hand in mine.
She winks. "Hey, slugger."
I smile. "Hey, Coach."
Her hand is warm in mine as we turn to face the officiant. The world narrows to just us—me and Amy in this perfect moment.
"Dearly beloved," the officiant begins, but his words blur as I gaze at Amy's profile.
The determined set of her jaw, the slight curve of her lips, the way the sunlight catches her hair—I'm memorizing every detail.
When it's time for vows, I reach into my pocket for the paper, but something stops me.
I let my fingers slip away from the carefully written words.