“It’s natural to be excited about a new relationship.”
“Yeah, but in my case I definitely stopped listening to anything I didn’t want to hear. He was up front right from the start that he didn’t want a serious relationship. He never lied to me. He just sort of . . .” I shrugged as Tyler’s words echoed through my head. “Led me to believe he was ready for something he wasn’t.”
Prisha nodded.
“And I’ve been so hard on myself, wondering how I could have gotten him so wrong. But the thing is . . . I know what I felt. I know we had that connection. And I know we could have been good together if he could get over his fear.”
“What’s he afraid of?”
I’d thought this through a million times. “What it comes down to, I think, is that he grew up believing baseball was all he had to offer the world. And when he suddenly couldn’t offer it anymore, he shut down. He couldn’t forgive himself. It’s like he believes deep down he needs to be punished for failing the game or his fans or his father—even the media! He hates the headlines and the speculation about him, but the reason it bothers him so much is that he believes it. So he’s afraid to let himself be happy. Find love. Find acceptance. He doesn’t think he deserves it. And I couldn’t convince him otherwise.”
“April, it wasn’t your job to convince him otherwise. He has to reach that place on his own.”
“I know.” I felt a deluge of tears coming. “I just wanted to be able to help.”
“Of course. You care for him.”
I nodded, fighting the sob trying to get out. “And it’s hard for me to accept that he’s gone, but I have to.”
Prisha waited for me to compose myself, nudging the tissue box closer to me. I thanked her, took a few deep breaths, and blew my nose. “Sorry. I’m okay. I think.”
Smiling sympathetically, she checked her notes. “Tell me how things are moving along with your biological son.”
“Chip.” My stomach jumped, and I put a hand over it. “We’re meeting on Saturday at his house. Three o’clock.”
“Are you scared? Excited? All of the above?”
“All of the above, definitely,” I said, laughing nervously. “But I have realistic expectations. I know that meeting him might not provide immediate relief from all my adoption guilt or solve all my intimacy issues, but I’m hoping that over time, knowing him is part of my journey to being happy.”
She smiled. “I have a feeling you’re going to meet those expectations, and then some. You should be very proud of yourself, April. You’ve shown a lot of courage and strength. You took exactly the kind of risk that’s necessary for real intimacy, and I think you experienced it, even if it didn’t end the way you’d hoped.”
I sniffed and smiled sadly. “Yeah.”
“And was it worth the risk?”
I was tempted to say no. To say I wished Tyler Shaw had never set foot back in this town. To say I’d have been better off if I could just erase the last month from my life. But deep down, I didn’t feel that way.
He might have let me down hard, but Tyler Shaw had shown me I was capable of letting someone in.
“Yes,” I said. “It was worth the risk.”
I walked out of Prisha’s office feeling a little better. She always asked the tough questions and could sometimes make harsh observations when I was trying to avoid something, but she gave beautiful compliments too. She strengthened my courage, my confidence, and my compassion.
And in the next five minutes, I’d need all three.
Because when I pulled up at home, sitting there on my front porch was none other than Tyler Shaw.
I knew it was him right away. Besides the ridiculously tall and commanding body, who else put those butterflies in my belly? Made my breath get stuck in my lungs? Set my pulse on high alert? He watched me put the car in park and came to open the driver’s side door.
My heart was hammering away, and I was almost afraid to stand up for fear my legs would buckle. But then I remembered what Prisha had said. I could do this.
I got out of the car and looked up at him. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses for once. Or a hat. I could see his eyes and his expression clearly, and he looked . . . happy?
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He pushed the car door shut behind me. “Can I come in?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Please, April.” He went to take my hand, but I pulled it away. “Sorry. I get it—I won’t touch you, I promise. I just want to talk.”
“About what?” I said. “You made your point ten days ago. I heard it loud and clear when you walked out the door.”
He nodded. “I know. But I think I was wrong.”
My eyebrows jerked up. “You think?” Immediately I started walking toward my front door.
“April, wait!” He ran ahead of me, hopping up onto my porch and spreading his arms out, like I wasn’t allowed on it. “I’m sorry. You were always better than me at putting my thoughts into words. And I’m still working things out in my head. But I—I have something I need to say to you.” He frowned. “I just don’t know exactly what it is yet.”
I stayed where I was, two steps below him. “Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
I shifted my weight to one hip, wishing I didn’t find his frown so adorable. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”
He looked relieved. “Thanks.”
“So what are you trying to work out?”
“Well, it starts with Virgil. He’s in the hospital.”
“Oh, no! Is he okay?”
“Yes and no. He’s got congestive heart failure, and they’re worried about a stroke, but he was able to have a conversation with me—sort of.”
“Is that why you’re back in town?”
He hesitated. “Also yes and no. It’s the reason my head told me to get on a plane, but I think there were other reasons too. Reasons I wasn’t ready to admit.”
Gooseflesh swept across my back, but I held my tongue. I wasn’t going to put words in his mouth tonight. He was on his own.
“Aren’t you going to ask what the other reasons are?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Okay. Shit.” He ran a hand through his hair. “This is hard. Words are hard.”
“Yep.”
“The other reasons are about you. And kind of about Sadie and maybe even about my dad and David and possibly the Central High School baseball team—”
“Okay, focus.” I held up one hand. I couldn’t help it. “What do all those people mean? What do they have in common?”
He came down the steps and took me by the shoulders. “They’re family to me. They feel like family.” His hands slid into my hair. “You feel like family to me.”
Oh, how I loved his words. They were like hot chocolate sauce over vanilla ice cream, and they melted something inside me. But I had to be tough. “So what? So you’ve realized family is more than blood. What now?”
He frowned again, taking his hands off me. “Okay, give me a second. Maybe it’s not just that I’ve realized you feel like family. Because Sadie has always been family, and I’ve lived apart from her since I was eighteen. It’s something more.”
My pulse kicked up. I bit my lip.
He struggled with what he wanted to say for a full fifteen seconds, so long that I was tempted to prompt him with words. Had he missed me? Was that it?
“It’s home,” he blurted.
“Home?”
“Yes.” He looked relieved to have found the right words. “That night at dinner, you said this thing, and I guess it must have stayed in the back of my mind. You said home wasn’t a place.”
“I did?” I tilted my head. “I don’t remember that.”
“Well, maybe you didn’t say it wasn’t a place. But you said something about it being the feeling that you know you belong somewhere. You miss it when you’re gone. You’re the most you at home.”
“Okay .
. .”
He took me by the shoulders again. “Sorry, I’m bad at the no-touching thing. But that’s what it is. When I’m with you, I know where I belong. I never want to be anywhere else. I miss you when you’re not there. I’m the most me when I’m with you—because you’re the only one who sees the real me.” He took a breath. “Wherever you are is home to me. And I don’t want to leave home again.”
My throat had been tight ever since he’d started talking, and now it threatened to close completely. Which was fine because I didn’t know what to say anyway. Thank goodness I was holding onto my keys and bag, because if I hadn’t had something to clutch, I might have thrown my arms around him or let him kiss me—and I needed to take it easy this time.
“Did I say it wrong?” Tyler’s expression was concerned.
I smiled and shook my head, trying to swallow.
“What’s the matter? Why aren’t you talking?”
I fanned my face as my eyes teared up.
“Oh.” He looked relieved as he squeezed my upper arms. “I wish I could hug you.”
“A hug might be okay,” I whispered, desperately trying to avoid melting down in front of him. Or blowing up. Or giving in.
He wrapped me up in his warm, strong embrace, and I pressed my cheek against his chest, allowing myself a small moment of comfort. Maybe he meant it this time. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe he would stay.
But he’d have to work to win back my trust—and this time, we were taking it slow.
When I felt certain a breakdown of some sort was not forthcoming, I stepped back from him, pushing against his chest. “Okay. I need to say a few things. I’ve missed you too—so much I’ve cried more in the last ten days than I did in all of middle school, and I cried a lot in middle school.”
He pressed his lips together and braced himself, like he knew what was coming.
“I beat myself up every single night, wondering if I’d imagined the things you said, the plans we’d made, the way you looked at me. The things you said to me right before you left stuck—I thought maybe I made up this idealized version of you in my head. But I didn’t, Tyler.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t. Everything was real. It’s always been real between us.”
I felt the ground giving way beneath my feet and stood taller. “But I don’t trust you yet. If you’re serious about what you’re saying here tonight, you’re going to have to prove it to me.”
“Of course. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
I shook my head. “Nope. It can’t work like that. I’m no longer writing your essays, Tyler. You have to figure this out.”
Inhaling, he squared his shoulders. “Okay, I can do that. I think.”
“I think you can too.” I softened a little.
“Sadie flew out to see me over the weekend. Surprised the hell out of me.”
“Why’d she do that?”
“She claimed she was worried about me, because I hadn’t answered any of her calls or texts, but I think it was mostly to tell me I was being an idiot.”
“Sisters are good for that.”
“Well, she was right. I left here thinking it was the right decision for everyone, but I was more miserable and lonely each day. And I don’t want that to be the rest of my life—not when so much more is possible. Anyway, I went right to the hospital after I arrived, but something Virgil said made my brain explode, and I realized I needed to see you right away.”
“What did he say?”
“It was something simple, but it reminded me that the things I loved and respected most about my dad weren’t about baseball. They were about family.”
I smiled. “Virgil is wise.”
“Virgil is wise.”
We stood looking at each other for a moment, and I knew I’d better get inside—alone—before my resolve not to kiss him weakened. “I should go in.”
“Okay.” His expression was crestfallen, but he stepped aside and let me walk up the steps. “Can I see you tomorrow?”
Up on my porch, I turned to face him, wondering what was safe to agree to. Dinner seemed too much like a date, and a drink meant my decision-making abilities would suffer. I bit my lip. “I have to work, but I could meet you for lunch.”
“I’ll take it.” He grinned, making my heart flutter.
“What?” I asked.
“I love it when you bite your lip. I just found an old picture of us at my dad’s kitchen table, and you were chewing on it.”
I laughed self-consciously. “I’m surprised I haven’t chewed it right off.”
“Don’t do that. I love your lips. I’ve missed them.”
My face got hot, and I smiled. “Get out of here, Tyler Shaw, before I lose my mind and invite you in.”
He laughed. “God, I missed you. Goodnight, April.”
“Goodnight.” Then I unlocked the door, went inside, and leaned back against it, exhaling with relief.
I’d managed to resist him.
If that wasn’t proof that I was stronger than I thought, I wasn’t sure what was.
We agreed by text to meet for lunch at a restaurant downtown, and I arrived first. When I saw him walking toward me, my heart jumped around in my chest.
He sat down across from me in the booth. “Hey. How was your morning?”
“Good. Yours?”
“Excellent. Virgil is doing better, I accepted the school’s offer for a coaching position, and I have an appointment with a realtor this afternoon to look at some listings on the water.”
“Wow. You’ve been busy.”
“I’m focused, that’s all. It’s easy when you know what you want.” His eyes held mine over the table, and heat bloomed at my center. “And I know what I want.”
I cleared my throat and picked up my ice water. “How did you sleep last night?”
He shrugged, giving me a rueful grin. “Not at all.”
“Jet lag?”
“No. I was thinking about . . . a lot of things.”
“Want to tell me about them?”
“Yes. Because most of them involve you—at least, I hope they do.”
The server came over and we ordered drinks and sandwiches. When we were alone again, Tyler said, “We should talk about Chip.”
I nodded. “I’m meeting him on Saturday.”
Tyler’s expression was momentarily alarmed, but he recovered and cleared his throat. “Okay. I was hoping for a little more time, but it’s okay.”
“What’s okay?”
“So I was up all night asking myself how I could earn your trust again. How I can show you that I meant what I said last night—I want you in my life for good.”
My entire body warmed, but I tried to stay cool. “And?”
“I came up with something that involves Chip, and I’ll admit it scares the shit out of me, like every time I think about it I am not okay, and I get this horrible pit in my stomach, and my intestines are all twisted, and it feels like this one time I pitched against this one team full of—”
“Tyler.” I raised my eyebrows. “I get it. It’s scary. I’m scared too.”
“Right.” He took a breath. “So I still think people are going to find out I’m his biological father, or at least speculate out loud. And I think it could make things really hard on everyone if we have to waste a lot of time and energy issuing denials and refusing to comment and telling what we know are lies. So I’ve made a decision.”
I couldn’t even breathe. “What?”
“Let’s get out ahead of it. I’ll meet him too. I’ll admit the truth, and we’ll go to a news outlet we trust with the real story—if it’s okay with him and his mom.”
The room began to spin. “Oh my God, Tyler. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Picking up my ice water again, I took several big gulps. “So . . . what does this look like?”
“I’d go with you on Saturday.”
“You would?”
“Yes. Unless you think that would unfai
rly blindside them.”
“It’s going to blindside them no matter what.” I paused to think about it. “But I think it’s a good thing. Robin’s letter said in the wake of losing his father, she felt like Chip was searching for family ties. And we know he admires you.”
“It’s still going to be a huge shock.” He frowned. “And they could say no. They could say they want no part of a media story.”
“How are we going to handle that part of it?”
“I’d contact a local reporter Sadie and Josh know and give her the scoop. I think that’s probably the best way to shut down gossip.”
“When did you talk to Sadie about it?”
“This morning. I invited myself to their house for breakfast before they left for work.”
My jaw dropped. “You’re really serious about this.”
“I am.” He squeezed my hand. “I want to do right by you, and by Chip. I’m not gonna lie and say I’m ready to be his father, but I feel protective of you both. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make this easier, no matter how uncomfortable it is for me.”
My eyes filled, and I had to let go of his hand to fish a tissue out of my purse. “Really?” I said, dabbing at the corners of my eyes.
“Yes. Running away from this wasn’t going to solve anything. It was me taking the easy out.” He paused. “I’ll be honest—if you’d never wanted to meet him or put our past out in the open, I might have been fine with it. But you know what? I keep thinking about this—I’ve enjoyed every single minute of the time I’ve spent with Chip. I’m not sorry he turned out to be my biological son. In fact, I’m proud of it. I just don’t feel much like his father.”
I reached out for his hand again. “It’s okay. I don’t feel like his mother either. It’s not going to be that kind of relationship. But maybe we can get to a place where we feel . . . something like family to each other.”
He turned his palm to mine and laced our fingers. “I’d like that.”
Something occurred to me. “Will you see him at practice before Saturday?”
“I’ve decided to stay away from the team for the time being. I’ve got enough to do here, and I think this situation is awkward enough. I told David I’d officially start next season.”
Unforgettable: A Small Town Second Chance Sports Romance Page 24