Chapter Twenty
Chapter
Twenty
I sit on the edge of the hotel bed, holding my phone
like it weighs twenty pounds instead of a few ounces. Funny how something so
small can hold something as huge as a potentially life-changing decision.
And committing to this role would most definitely change my
life.
Tracy’s email came several hours ago, and I’ve read it what
feels like a hundred times. Major motion picture. Lead role consideration.
Audition on Friday. Months on location if I book it. Months away from
Phoenix. From Christian.
From us.
The room is quiet except for the hushed hum of the air
conditioning unit. The space feels too still. My mind feels too loud.
I should be excited. This is the kind of opportunity people
spend their whole lives hoping for. The type of thing I used to daydream about
while sitting on studio floors, waiting for my name to be called. The moment I
swore I’d never apologize for wanting.
But now, I’m staring at the email, terrified of wanting it.
Because Christian is here. Because he’s still healing.
Because he uprooted his entire life—his team, his routine, his identity—and
he’s still figuring out what all of that means. He’s still struggling to figure
out what his career looks like at this stage. And after everything he’s been
through…what kind of wife disappears for months?
I haven’t booked my flight or texted Tracy back yet.
Christian and I always like to talk about career
opportunities before we accept them.
If there’s time. But sometimes, a decision has to be made
immediately without us sitting down to discuss it.
Which is why I’m currently in Phoenix instead of Toronto.
But I often have the luxury of time to sit and have a
conversation with him about auditions and potential roles. I love getting his
input and having us make the decision together. But now, as I anxiously watch
the time, I can’t quite wrap my brain around what I’m going to say to him.
Or to Tracy.
I’m so torn. It’s like I can practically feel myself being
torn in two. Do I turn toward the career I’ve dreamed of and worked toward my
entire life? Or do I walk away and embrace being here, where I know I’m needed?
I may not have asked Christian the questions about how he’s
feeling physically, but I don’t need to. I can see it in the way he moves. I
know his body as well as mine. And maybe if I hadn’t been distracted by my
career, I could have been there to advocate for his health when he wasn’t doing
it for himself.
It would be easy to pick up the phone right now and bounce
ideas off my mom or even Jen, but this feels like something I need to figure
out for myself before Christian gets back.
I wish having two successful yet challenging careers in one
marriage were easy.
I may be his rock in some ways, but he’s my rock in
others. I’ve always wanted that balance—the kind of partnership my parents
have, built on quiet strength and mutual care. The easy give and take. The
steady rhythm of a marriage that knows how to bend without breaking. And I
won’t let anything stand in the way of that. This isn’t a role I can walk away
from when the cameras stop rolling. This is my life, and it’s worth fighting
for.
All I know right now—what my heart is telling me loud and
clear—is that if I had to choose between my career and my husband? There’s no
contest.
My husband. Always.
Forever.
I’ve had plenty of experiences with different roles. I’ve
sung and danced and acted. And while they were all exciting, none of them
compares to how I feel when I’m with Christian.
That’s the role.
The life-changing role.
Wife. Partner. Lover. Teammate.
I glance at the clock again. They’re playing an evening
game, and I know I need to be there. I know how much he loves having me at the
games. And it’s probably a good distraction for me. Well, that and looking for
apartments, which I still haven’t finished doing. So…I walk over to the sofa
and sit back down, pulling up the listings I had been looking at earlier before
Tracy’s call. I’ll make some decisions and follow them up with appointments.
Maybe by the time Christian and I are back here tonight,
I’ll have made a decision about everything else.
Maybe.
We’re back at the hotel, and Christian has been
talking almost nonstop about how much he’s enjoying the new team’s dynamic.
It’s clear that everyone is looking at him as the valued player he is, along
with being a leader and someone with a strong work ethic and experience from
two World Series championship teams.
It’s an absolute joy to listen to him. I know he takes his
role seriously, and I’m honestly thrilled that he’s getting the recognition he
deserves.
“I’m gonna grab a shower,” he says
after giving me a quick kiss. “Will you order dinner for us?”
“Absolutely.” It’s nice having room service, and I’m
seriously impressed that Christian’s being so flexible with his dietary
routine. I know we’ll go right back to it as soon as we move into an apartment,
but for tonight, I’m happy not to have to be the one preparing dinner.
When the bathroom door opens several minutes later, I don’t
look up. I’m sitting on the sofa, staring at Tracy’s email again. Christian’s
footsteps are lighter than they used to be. Cautious. Controlled. Like his body
reminds him daily that it hasn’t forgiven him yet.
He doesn’t say anything at first, just walks over and sits
beside me, his thigh brushing mine. Warm. Familiar. The most grounding thing in
my life. This time, I do look up and offer him a small smile.
“You’re quiet,” he murmurs. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong.
He waits. He always waits.
I swallow hard and know it’s time. “I got an email today.”
He glances at my phone. “Audition?”
I nod. “Not just any audition.” My voice comes out softer
than intended. “It’s…big. Like, game-changing big.”
He smiles a little. Proud. Automatically proud. It makes my
chest ache.
“That’s amazing.” He reaches up and caresses my cheek with
those strong, sure fingers. I lean into them. “We knew it was only a matter of
time before Hollywood really stood up and took notice.”
There it is. The part of him that believes in me more than I
believe in myself.
I exhale, pressing my lips together. “It’s going to be
months of filming. Some of it is out of the country. And I just…” My throat
tightens. “We just got here. You’re still trying to get settled. Still healing.
I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want you to feel like baseball has you
fighting alone again. I don’t want…”
He reaches for my hand, and I fall silent because I always
do when he does that. His fingers thread through mine, his thumb brushing slow
circles across my skin.
“Ella Rose,” he says quietly, “I never want you to shrink
your life for mine.”
My eyes sting. “It doesn’t feel like shrinking. It feels
like…choosing. Like I should be choosing you.”
He turns to me fully then, his expression soft. “You are
choosing me. You choose me every day. But your career? Your dreams? Those are you,
too. I don’t get to be the only thing that matters in your world.”
I laugh weakly, wiping under my eye. “Yeah, well…you matter
a lot.”
He leans forward until his forehead rests against mine. We
breathe the same air for a moment. Our rhythm, our calm.
“So do you,” he whispers. “I don’t need you here to know you
love me. Being in the same city doesn’t define us. We’ve already done the
distance. We’ve already done the hard work. We’ve already survived…everything.”
I close my eyes. “But what if you need me?”
He smiles faintly. “Then I’ll call you. And you’ll yell at
me for pretending I’m fine when I’m not. And we’ll figure it out, just like we
always do.”
My chest loosens a little.
“You deserve this,” he continues gently. “You’ve worked too
hard not to walk through doors when they open. Don’t turn this down because
you’re afraid of leaving me. I’m not something fragile you have to guard. I’m
your partner. I’m on your side. Always.”
My breath shakes as I exhale, relief and fear tangling
together. “You really mean that?”
He lifts my chin, so I have to look at him. His eyes are
steady. Certain.
“I love you,” he says simply. “And I’m proud of you. And I
want to be the guy standing beside you while you become everything you’re meant
to be. Not the reason you didn’t.”
The tears spill then, but they’re quiet.
I lean into him, and he wraps his arms around me, pulling me
into his chest. I breathe him in—warm skin and his natural scent that is better
than any cologne and something that feels like home.
For the first time since the email arrived, I feel like I
can breathe.
“Thank you,” I whisper into his shirt.
“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he murmurs, kissing the
top of my head. “Go remind the world who you are.”
I smile, but I’m still not convinced this is the right
decision. My gut is telling me it’s not. I open my mouth to tell him that, but
no words come out.
The light knock on the door interrupts the moment, and
Christian is immediately on his feet and going to get our dinner. We set it up
on the small dining table in the suite, and once we’re both seated, I’m oddly
relieved when the topic of conversation turns to apartments.
“I know you’ve had a lot on your mind with the audition
offer,” he says as he cuts into his steak. “But did you have any time to
research apartments?”
“I did. I even set up a few tours for tomorrow morning so we
can look at them together.”
The smile he gives me shows how happy he is that I planned it
that way. “Awesome. I don’t have to be at the stadium until one, and then we
fly out on Thursday for our game in Boston.” He pauses. “Tell me about these
apartments. Do you have a favorite? Any one in particular that you like more
than the others?”
We talk about places to live, our dinner, and his game
schedule—and we do it as if I’m going to be in LA for the next week or two.
I don’t correct him because…well…because I don’t.
I can’t.
I need to sleep on it.
Yes. That’s what I need, to settle everything in my mind
once and for all. A good night’s sleep will put everything into perspective.
We look at three different apartments and decide the