Chapter 32
Maren
“Why am I in such a funk over this? I should be excited,” I ask Sadie, even though I am certain she’s at just as much of a loss as I am.
“You’re nervous, and it’s new, and you want him to want you to stay. I mean shit, I want you to stay.”
I smile at her because she gets me more than I get me. She’s right—it’s all of those things, but it’s also this sinking feeling that he’s going to find someone new.
“Sadie, we’ve been whatever we are for like a second. He was with Tatum for years and look how fast he moved on. I don’t want to be across the country when I realize he’s met someone else.”
“That’s fair. You need to tell him that.”
“What if he gets mad?”
“You still need to tell him how you’re feeling.”
“What if he—”
“You still need to tell him how you are feeling.” She punctuates each word for emphasis.
“I know.”
She smiles at me smugly, she loves winning, but her gloating is interrupted by Ozzie walking through the door with Chinese food and wine.
“That’s my cue to leave. Have a memorable last night together,” she says with a suggestive wiggle of her brow as she grabs her overnight bag and heads to her parents for the night.
“You don’t want to spend Mare’s last night with her?” he asks, holding up a glass of wine.
“Listening to you two say goodbye? No thanks.” She brushes his offer of a glass of wine off with a flick of her wrist, “I’ll be back in the morning to help you load up your things in the moving truck and take you to the airport.”
She gives me the biggest hug, and I realize this is what I’m going to miss most about Mango Bay.
Being with my best friend, living our best single lives.
Things will never be like they are right now, they will never be like they were two weeks ago.
We will never be at this point in our lives again, and I already miss it.
I watch her leave the room, but I don’t have time to be sad as Oz hands me a glass of wine and a plate of food.
“You plated that up fast,” I joke. “You must be hungry.”
“Starving,” he says with the most delicious tone in his voice as he brushes a wine coated kiss to my lips.
We eat and joke, and have such a normal couple moment for two people who won’t see each other for months.
“Why were you working so late?” I ask.
“I had a meeting with Horner.”
“About what?”
“You know him, always coming up with the next big thing in Mango Ball. He wants to start a draft.”
I look at him confused.
“Fans will get to vote in three players on each team to stay on that roster, the coaches will get to grant three of their own picks immunity for trades, and everyone else will be fair game for drafting and trading. Fans can vote to have their favorite players join their favorite team. There will be a lot of logistics, so the process is probably a year or two out, but he wanted our thoughts.”
“Who else was there?”
“Jax.”
Of course Jax and Ozzie are a part of the decision. They’re the literal faces of the Moonshots. The fans will never let them leave.
“What happens if a player wants to move but the fans and coaches want them to stay?”
“That’s the best part.” He laughs, “They have to do a challenge against a fan picked at random at the last game of the season. The challenge is the fan’s choice. If the player wins, they can be open to trade, if they lose, they stay.”
My mouth hangs open. “He might be taking his fans first approach a little far.”
“You know how he is. He loves the fans more than anyone in the world.”
He takes a bite of food and washes it down with some wine, “Are you ready to start this big adventure, baby?”
His eyes are filled with admiration, and it makes the next words feel strangled as they leave my mouth. “Ozzie, what happens when I leave?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, wiping his mouth.
“What if you meet someone else?”
“I won’t.”
“You seem awfully sure about that.”
“I am.”
I look at him with a pointed gaze. He’s being short on purpose and it’s pissing me off.
“Mare, I can do long distance. It won’t be easy, but I can do it, I want to do it. Can you?”
“Are you serious?” I stand and instantly start pacing. “Why would you ask that?”
“Why would you ask me what happens if I meet someone? You really think I give a fuck about anyone else? You believe that?”
“Well, it’s not like it took you long to fall for me after you and Tatum split,” I regret the words before they even leave my mouth. I want to suck them back in, bury them deep in my chest. This is not how I meant to bring this insecurity up.
The look on his face makes my stomach turn, and I hate myself for saying the words out loud.
“Got it,” he says, standing from the table and walking towards the door.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Oscar, we need to talk about this. That’s not what I meant.”
“Yes it is.”
I cringe because he’s right, “Yes, I did. But not the way it came out. I’m having a hard—”
“Mare. You don’t owe me an explanation. We don’t need to spend all night hashing this out.
You said what you said and you meant what you said, maybe not in the tone you said it, but all the words were true, and I got the message.
We aren’t some couple who needs to make things right before we spend the next few months apart. ”
“Ozzie,” I cry as he turns back towards the door.
When he turns around the single tear rolling down his cheek guts me. “You made this clear, I made you feel like nothing but a rebound, and I won’t forgive myself for that.”
“No, that’s—”
“Bye Mare, have a safe flight.”
“That’s it?” Hot tears roll down my cheeks.
He doesn’t say anything, he slides a sheet of paper on the counter and closes the door behind him.
I try to reach for him, I cry and yell, begging him to stay, to talk to me, but it’s no use. He’s gone in seconds and never looks back.
After a few minutes of crying in the hallway, I walk back in the apartment, and sit on the floor leaning against the door and sob.
Sobbing doesn’t even begin to describe the sounds that echoed through the main living space, and they don’t quiet until exhaustion pulls me into a deep sleep right there on the entry floor waiting for him to respond to one of the texts I sent.
Somehow I forced a shower, forced a brush through my hair, and toothpaste in my mouth.
“Holy shit. That must have been some sex-cepades last night,” Sadie says as she opens the door and takes one look at me.
But the smile on her face morphs into something else in her second glance.
“What happened?” She sets her purse down on the counter, and I see the white folded paper sitting next to it.
Her words fade in with the rumble of the dishwasher I started to clean the dishes left out last night.
I pick up the paper and open it. Then I crumple on the floor again… because I got in our own damn way and now he’s not answering any of my calls or texts.
Mare,
I’m not good at this. You know that. I’d rather take a fastball to the ribs than write a damn love note, but here I am because you’ve turned me into some kind of mushy idiot.
I’m in love with you. There. I said it.
And I want you to be my girlfriend—even if it sounds cheesy as hell, even if I hate how soft it makes me feel. I want you. That’s the point.
And yeah, I know it’s selfish, but… say you’ll stay. Just say it. Even if it’s only for a little while longer. I know I shouldn’t ask. I know you’ve got this dream calling your name louder than I ever could. But I had to say it anyway.
If you can’t stay, if you have to go, because, Mare, you do have to go, and I’d never want to be the reason you don’t—then fine. Go to New York. Be amazing. I’ll deal with it.
But don’t think for a second that means I’m letting you go.
I promise you this: I’ll love you harder than what that damn dream job is worth.
And the second my post-season wrap up hits, I’m coming to New York.
I’ll buy us some cramped apartment with terrible plumbing and a fire escape you’ll probably yell at me for climbing… but it’ll be ours.
So there. That’s everything I needed you to hear that I can’t say.
—Ozzie