34
Kennedy
The hospital released me the next morning.
Lance knew I’d been admitted but not why, and I wasn’t about to confirm any of his—or anyone else’s—theories.
My meetings for the week had been rescheduled, and I’d been forced to take sick time.
As much as I knew I needed to rest, I also needed something to occupy my brain.
I was upset with myself. Disappointed that I hadn’t realized I was pregnant and that I’d allowed myself to lose that much weight, especially since I’d been pregnant. I needed to start taking better care of myself.
After lounging around for a few hours, I ordered room service. Steak and potatoes with vegetables and a slice of chocolate cake.
Then I parked myself in front of the TV and watched three movies in a row on the Hallmark Channel. I ugly-cried until there were no tears left, then I fell asleep from exhaustion and slept until the following afternoon.
Over the next two days, I tried calling Nash more times than I’d like to admit.
Each one went straight to voicemail. I read a book and watched another couple of movies.
And for the first time in a while, I called my parents.
I didn’t tell them about the miscarriage, but I did tell them that Nash and I might be over.
Nash’s mom called me on the third day. I didn’t answer.
As much as I loved her and wanted to be there for her, I wasn’t capable of having a conversation about Nash—especially not after the miscarriage.
The message she left made it clear that they were genuinely worried about him, and that made things worse.
Because if his mom was worried, then something was wrong.
Really wrong.
I had a follow-up appointment on the fifth day and was cleared to return to work.
My blood pressure was better, and I’d even managed to gain two pounds.
As soon as Cory heard I was coming back, he insisted on dragging me out.
The Los Angeles Comets’ baseball leadership was impressed with our work with inner-city kids and wanted in on the project for next year.
Giving us tickets and a suite was their way of buttering us up.
I’d hesitated, but Cory could be convincing. And the doctor had said I needed time away from work and to have some fun. So I agreed to go.
It wasn’t until we stepped into the stadium that I realized who was playing. LA Comets versus Arizona Firehawks. Which meant one thing: Isaac Reed was in the house.
I watched as the players took the field. Cory returned with a glass of wine for me and a beer for himself, then sank into the seat beside mine.
“Ever been to a baseball game before?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.
“I have.”
More than I could count, but I didn’t say that. I’d watched plenty of professional games—kind of hard not to, once Isaac made it big. I’d watched college and high school too. My brother, Jackson, had played with Isaac in high school, then for two years in college before blowing out his knee.
“I never have,” Cory admitted. “Should be fun.”
“You’ll like it,” I promised. “It’s different from TV.”
I took a slow sip of the wine and made myself comfortable in the chair.
The player roster appeared on the screen across the field, and I found myself reading the stats for each player.
I couldn’t help but smile when Isaac’s picture appeared.
He looked so much like Nash it made my heart ache, but the coloring was a little different.
Isaac’s hair was a lighter brown and his eyes hazel like their father’s instead of Nash’s and their mother’s vivid green.
“Hey.” Cory’s gaze snapped to the screen then to me, eyes wide with surprise. “Isaac Reed. Shit, did you know? Is that why you didn’t want to go tonight?”
I shook my head.
I hadn’t told Cory what had happened between Nash and me, but we spent enough time together that he’d picked up on the shift.
With his attention on Isaac’s stats, Cory slid his hand over mine and gave it a squeeze. “Let me know if you want to leave, okay?”
“Okay.” The word came out as barely a whisper, but he squeezed my hand again, letting me know he’d heard.
In the end, I actually enjoyed the game. Cory’s running commentary about how good the players looked in their tight pants had me laughing more than once. We even started scoring them based on looks instead of how they played.
Isaac had a great game. I cheered for him, ignoring the confused stares from our coworkers who were decked out in LA gear. Maybe it was the wine, but I didn’t care.
When the game ended, before I had a chance to rethink my decision and change my mind, I said goodbye to Cory and hurried down the stairs. I got as close to the field as I could. Fans clustered around the railing where the players exited.
I leaned over, scanning the crowd. Isaac wasn’t hard to spot. He walked like Nash with powerful, self-assured strides, head down, trying to avoid the cameras. The sight hit me like a sting straight to the heart. Why hadn’t Nash called me back?
“Isaac!” I shouted, raising my voice above the noise. “Isaac!”
His head snapped up, eyes searching.
“Isaac!” I waved both arms like a lunatic. The moment his gaze found mine, his expression changed from serious to amused, then instantly to concerned.
“Kennedy!” he called back, stepping aside to let the rest of the players file past. I ignored the curious looks from the people around me, my focus locked on him.
“Hey, Isaac,” I said, grinning despite myself, relieved to see a familiar face.
“Hi, Ken.” His smile spread wide before softening into something warmer. “It’s been a while. Really good to see you.”
“You too. Great game, by the way. Nice home run,” I added, genuine pride in my voice.
“Thanks.” He chuckled.
“Reed,” his coach barked as he passed. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll be right there, Coach.”
Isaac turned back to me, a pleading look in his eyes. “Can you do dinner, Kennedy? Or even just a drink. Please?”
I hesitated, caught off guard. I hadn’t planned on anything but saying hello.
“I’ll be really fast,” he added. “Just give me twenty minutes to shower.”
“Uh . . .”
“Please, Kennedy. I’m begging you.”
The earnestness in his eyes made me give in. “Okay. Twenty minutes.”
His face split into a wide smile as he jogged off, and true to his word, he was back with a minute to spare.
He came straight to me and wrapped me in a big, lingering hug. The familiarity left me a little choked up, and I had to wriggle free before I completely lost it.
“So, where do you want to go?” I asked, clearing my throat.
Isaac’s eyes swept over me like he was trying to make sure I was okay. It made me a little self-conscious. I’d gained back a bit of weight since the miscarriage, but not nearly enough. I was still thinner than I’d ever been.
“Do you mind if we get something to eat?” Isaac asked.
“Not at all.”
He placed a hand lightly on my elbow and guided us out of the stadium through some back exit I hadn’t known existed.
“Wait,” he said, stopping short. “Did you drive here? I probably should’ve asked that first to make sure we came out by the right parking lot.”
“No.” I laughed. “I don’t have a car. I took an Uber.”
“That makes me feel a little less stupid.” He chuckled.
I ordered us a car, and we headed to the hotel where he was staying.
It wasn’t far from mine, and it had a couple of restaurants and a bar.
We picked the smaller restaurant since it was less crowded and found a booth in the back.
Isaac ordered a steak sandwich and an iced tea, and I got a glass of the house wine and some fries.
Catching up with him was surprisingly easy.
He told me about settling into life in Arizona, how he was still adjusting to the dry heat but didn’t miss the snow one bit.
He pulled out his phone and showed me pictures of his home—a beautiful stucco house on a big lot that backed onto an exclusive golf course.
Then he told me about the wedding plans, and I couldn’t believe it was only five months away.
When Isaac finished eating, he pushed his plate away and fixed those hazel eyes on me. I knew then that the easy part was over.
“As much as I don’t want to get in the middle of this because you’re both family, and I hate the idea of choosing sides, I can’t stand to watch you two hurting like this. Talk to me, Kennedy. What’s going on with you and Nash?”
And you know what? I did.