by Felicia Lynn
I told Ty I wanted to skip our morning run and stay in bed an extra hour to read instead, but I might as well have just waved a huge red flag in his face with Beware! Fiancée Approaching Breakdown written in bold. But it’s not as though my mood has been hiding much anyway. My bad attitude was blatantly obvious this morning when I snapped at Ty for merely breathing.
I’m overwhelmed and frustrated, and it’s turning me into the bitch of a century. This is so not like me, and I have to figure out a way to get myself together. Profusely apologizing for being mean and hurting someone I love isn’t fun, and I don’t want to get into a habit of this. Clearly, I needed a time-out for an attitude adjustment this morning. I thought the alone time, escaping into a fictional world, would have been the perfect remedy. That didn’t happen.
My cell phone, which has an unpublished phone number, has been ringing off the hook. Then add the email notifications pinging nonstop, and let’s just say I’m distracted.
The video someone posted on social media of the incident with Jessica Christy three days ago has garnered many views, but it’s taking away from the hard-earned attention Ty deserves for his draft selection. The joys of viral videos on social media . . . fun times.
I’m positive Jessica is struggling to deal with the backlash of the video. No matter how she tries to spin that, she won’t ever come out looking anything other than corrupt. At least Ty didn’t misbehave or say anything he’d have to justify or apologize for, and I didn’t even get a word in, so there’s that. I hope her actions have embarrassed her, and this ends her reign as queen of manipulative drama. I want her to be embarrassed, but since I’m not sure she has a soul, that might not actually be possible.
Ty shouldn’t have had to defend our relationship or me in public, to begin with, but he did, and the news media seems to be focusing on that. I’m feeling bad about it all while my hotshot seems to be pounding his chest with pride. All the support he’s received with the trending hashtag #BestFianceEver and being coined a macho romantic hasn’t hurt his feelings at all. I don’t really understand why he’s not as upset about all of this as I am. Don’t get me wrong—I am proud of him. I also know I’m one lucky girl, but seriously, who wants their dirty laundry aired that way, even if you do come out the victor in the scenario?
Ty met with Scott this afternoon to sign the final contract while I stayed behind. He wasn’t too happy with the plan, but at this point, I needed a reprieve from human interaction. He understood and only grumbled a little.
I probably should have turned off my cell phone and stayed blissfully unaware of the press hounding me for a statement. Maybe my mood wouldn’t have continued to spiral if I had, but I wanted to be available for Ty if he needed me.
I felt a little bad for skipping the final detail of him actually signing on the dotted line, knowing how important it was. But I didn’t feel bad enough to go with him and risk the chance of another public incident to taint this for him.
The contract has been previously negotiated anyway, and he accepted the terms after we talked it through together. I didn’t feel like I should’ve had any say in the terms, bonus, or assignment since it’s his career dream. I told him more than a thousand times that I trusted him implicitly to do what he felt was best for us. He knows I’ll be right beside him, wherever he goes, happy to be along for the ride. But that wasn’t enough; it was a non-negotiable with Tyler for me to not have a say or an opinion.
The team gave Ty 6,510,875 reasons not to refuse. Even without the seven-figure signing bonus on the table, I wouldn’t ever do anything to stand in the way of his dream. He’s worked too hard for that opportunity for me to add conditions to the deal if I’d had them, but thankfully, I didn’t.
So now, I sit and wait for my guy, trying to convince myself to focus on the good and positive things happening and not just the chaos surrounding us right now. But the chaos feels to be tipping the scales more and more every day.
When it rains, it pours. I wish I could see the blue skies on the horizon and know that good times are on their way while I patiently wait for these storms to pass without being consumed by the fear. But right now, it feels like we’re stranded and vulnerable in these storm squalls with no shelter or safety in sight. I just keep hoping the defining difference in the situations and drama is the fact that we’re in it together—partners forever. We’ll both have a clear understanding of what it really means when it’s time to exchange the vow “In good times and in bad.” We’ve had our fair share of both. As long as we’re in it together, that’s what matters, though, right?
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I groan. Next up on the hot-mess-express train—I need to return my father’s call or, at the very least, respond to his email. I think I’d much rather Google private islands for sale. Instead, I do none of it and reach for my Kindle to read for a while. I think he can give me a reprieve and excuse the delayed response for a little bit.
“I’M NOT REALLY SURE how I could say no, but I’m surprised they want me over there so soon. I thought we’d have more time to make arrangements. I’ll text you tonight, but I should probably get home to my girl and break the news.” Shaking Scott’s hand, I know my feelings on the deal are all over the place. The contract is fantastic. The bonus is better than we’d anticipated, and the assignment, until I get called up to the majors, is a huge opportunity. But I have to report to the team for training in three days. I knew that time would come, but fuck, I’m not ready yet. “You did great, man. Thanks for everything. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Hell . . . after everything that’s gone on lately, Charlie will probably think getting me out of her hair is another bonus. I think she’s craving parts of her quiet life before me.”
He laughs. “Your little speech with that reporter in the parking lot did cause some excitement, but I think it also cemented the top-paying contract they offered from the start too. Normally, I’d have to fight to get these terms and this payday for my athletes. For you, hell . . . I barely had to ask for anything. You can’t pay for the sort of publicity that video provided. Your name has inundated every social media site on the webs, you’re trending everywhere, and the team’s organization is still being tagged in those posts. They’re fully expecting seat ticket sales to skyrocket when you eventually take the field just so your new fans can catch a glimpse of the . . . what are they calling you? Macho alpha romantic. You’re a big deal right now, even if it isn’t for throwing a no-hitter.”
“I don’t want to help sell tickets because of my speech, Scott. I want butts in those seats because they want to witness a great sports game firsthand. But at the same time, if I gotta be known for something not related to baseball, let it be for loving my girl and not ever walking away from someone trying to hurt her, verbally or otherwise. She’s mine, now and always. I take care of what’s mine, so I’m perfectly okay with setting that precedent moving forward. But that applies to the field, as well; it’s the same responsibility for me. When the mound is mine, I own it, protect it, and do the job they’re paying me for. Hopefully, anyone who needs that message for the future got it.”
“Ty, anyone not living under a rock got that message loud and clear in spades. Go home. Talk to Charlie and text me tonight. I know you were hoping for a couple of weeks, but with things in full swing and the team planning to take it all the way this season, they need you as soon as possible. If things go as well as they’re hoping, you’ll be called up when they expand to the forty-man roster. You know as well as I do that you shouldn’t take that opportunity lightly because that doesn’t usually happen for rookies. Don’t throw that aside for a few extra days. You’re a team player again, and Charlie is too as part of the package. I think she’ll understand, Ty.”
I know he’s right. I have a chance to do something others seldom do. It’s not logical to discount the team's generosity or opportunity by fighting for more time before I report to training. Especially since I’m way behind the eight ball at this point for training if I get called u
p. And damn . . . I want to be called up. I’ll work as hard as possible to catch up and prove to them they’ve made a good choice but leaving my girl behind for a little while . . . that thought hurts.
“It is what it is. I’ll get you an answer soon. And thanks for everything, Scott. Really, no matter what you think you did or didn’t do, I know you’ve worked hard for a long time, and I’m glad it’s finally going to pay off for you too. I’ll text ya later.”
“The ink is on the contract, but it’s not valid until I send it in. Think hard, Ty. But the deadline is tomorrow, and you know time’s ticking for you to get back to work. At the end of the day, selling tickets may not feel like your job, but it is. They don’t pay this kind of money or give chances to players no one cares to see working. Your reputation is valuable, and that video, as much as it may be a pain in the ass, proved your worth and ethical standing. That confrontation could have gone a million different ways. You not only defended your girl, but you also defended a well-loved and well-known politician while defusing the insinuations of cheating and protecting the reputation of MLB. You stayed strong and, for the most part, respectful. Any clubhouse would want that kind of character in a player. Remember that. You’re not the average player, and they know that. Now, get out of here. I need an answer in a few hours.”
***
I stand quietly in the doorway of our bedroom just watching. Every part of me wants to crawl into the bed and pull her body close to mine, but you couldn’t pay me enough to disturb her peaceful sleep right now. I know she needs the rest, even though she’s made extra efforts to hide the signs of her exhaustion. All the excitement in the past week has taken its toll.
Curled up on her side in a little ball, she’s clinging to my pillow. How in the hell could she be comfortable wearing my USC sweatshirt with the hood up over her head and her legs hiked up almost into her stomach? I guess she is, though, and no matter what, she’s fucking adorable.
Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I open the camera and snap a photo. I’ve been doing this every chance I get. I love the candid shots I have taken of her when she’s not looking. Shit, I’ll need these little reminders to get me through our days apart, but I’ll be working hard to keep those days to a minimum until she can be with me permanently.
I quietly sneak into the room, going to the chair in the corner to check emails while she rests. My news, Scott, and the team can wait for her to wake up. As soon as I sit, it’s as if she sensed me here; her eyes slightly open, and she smiles softly.
“Hi, hotshot. How was it?” she asks, her voice raspy with sleep.
I move, kneeling in front of her. “It was great, buttercup. Go back to sleep. I’m going to sit here and check my emails. We’ll talk a little later. You need some rest,” I tell her, but even before I finish the sentence, I know it’s not going to work.
“No, Ty. I’m good. Tell me about the meeting. I was reading while I waited for you, and I must have zonked out. I’m excited to hear everything,” she says through a yawn.
Kicking off my shoes then stripping quickly out of jeans and replacing them with basketball shorts, I climb into bed next to her. “Meeting was fantastic, Charlie. But let's talk through the specifics after naptime. My girl is tired, and I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t use a little shut-eye myself,” I lie, trying to sound convincing. I’m not a midday nap person. I always wake up dragging instead of feeling refreshed and then it ruins my night’s sleep, but for the sake of getting her what she needs, I’ll pretend to sleep and lay here holding her.
On my back, she rolls into me, hiking her leg over my thigh, and her cheek comes to my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her, using caution not to let my addicted body derail the task by getting sidetracked having her pressed to me. I wait for signs she’s fallen back to sleep in the silence, but they don’t come. I know she’s awake, even with her eyes closed.
So I speak softly, hoping it will help to tell her a little story. “When I imagined the outcome of the MLB draft and a possible contract offer, I never imagined this. I didn’t realize how much I’d love having someone to share the experience with me. But more than that, I never dreamed someone significantly more invaluable to me than any offer or terms could factor into the decision-making. Even with six million, five hundred and ten thousand, and eight hundred reasons to sign it, I can think of double the things I’m going to hate about being apart for however long it takes to get settled. Before the ink on the printer paper dried, I’d have signed with no concerns or risk of regrets if I only had to consider myself, but I don’t. This is our life, and even though no one's forcing us to uproot our life today completely, we’ll eventually have to move permanently. But until you finish school and we’re able to make the transition together, we’ll probably be spending a good deal of time separated. I’m worried. I can’t picture either of our lives that way. My head can’t make sense of how this is going to work, but I know it’s possible because others have done it for years.”
“The good outweighs the temporary challenge of separation, Ty. We can figure this out and make it work. You know that. We can do anything for a small amount of time. We’ll count down to the light at the end of the tunnel when we’re falling asleep and waking up under the same roof.”
“Maybe the money isn’t worth that challenge to me, buttercup.”
“Ty, when has the money become a driving factor? You’re doing this because it’s your dream job, and because of that, it’s now mine too. You’ve worked hard for this outcome. We’ll make some sacrifices together. We can travel to each other when possible and work out the rest as we learn. Money doesn’t make it worth it, but achieving this goal does. It’s another learning curve, hotshot. You up for the challenge?”
I DIDN’T REALIZE HOW much better I’d feel getting out of the house to do something with just the two of us. I thought it was a stupid idea and told Ty so while he sat on his high horse looking hot; I refused to let that trademark worthy side-smile sway me. God, I was so annoyed. But I could apparently be convinced if you used the right tactic.
We have two full days left together before Ty has to report to training. Before I knew how soon he’d be leaving, I talked so confidently. I think I even felt confident until he clued me into that part. Then I fell apart, crying like my life was over. Ty was already having doubts about that part before my meltdown, and I was able to successfully talk him around. Let’s just say I threw that all out the window with my response. I didn’t even mean for it to happen, but when he told me there was no time to hold back the emotion, it just flushed through me like a typhoon.
I wasn’t able to pull myself together until Ty was in the process of dialing Scott while mumbling how nothing is worth the distance. Nothing. He fully intended to throw it all away. That was when my rational brain clicked on. So we’re okay now. He’s leaving, and we’ll find a way to be okay in the meantime. Once we know where he’ll be for longer than just the next few weeks, we can make plans for me to join him.
I intend to make the most of the next two days and soak up every second possible with my hotshot. I thought I would want to do that at home snuggled on the couch watching movies and ordering pizza, but now, I know I was wrong. Ty did know best, but I won’t tell him that yet.
I follow behind him, holding his hand as we walk the trail from the parking lot where we left his bike. We’re at a park I’ve never been to, but Ty seemed pretty excited about his plan after I told him I wasn’t peopling today. He promised I’d love this. He gets an A+ for the ride here, for sure. I love the way it makes me feel to speed through the back roads on the back of Ty’s bike. It’s therapy of its own kind.
It’s dark out here on the trail, and I have no idea what he’s up to. He’s carrying a giant flashlight to light our path on the trail and a backpack he’s packed with top-secret supplies, plus the calzones and sodas we picked up on the way. He hasn’t let me down yet, so I’m going with it.
Over his shoulder in the distance, I see an opening for a
clearing with sweeping skies and an open field. I feel that flutter of anticipation and excitement when we get to the edge of the field, and Ty continues walking across the deserted field and to a wooden fence with a gate opening marked NO TRESPASSING—PRIVATE PROPERTY. He removes the already opened padlock and unwraps the chain holding the gate closed.
“Um . . . what are we doing? We can’t go through there. We’ll get arrested.” I have no idea what he’s even thinking. I absolutely refuse to spend any part of the next two days in jail just for his adventure. Annoyed again, I turn on my heel and march in the direction we came and back to the bike. Nope, I’m not doing this.
“Charlotte, get back here. Where are you going? It’s dark, and you don’t have a flashlight. Don’t walk off like that; you could get hurt,” he says, racing behind me to catch up.
“What the hell? We can’t be breaking the law for an adventure, Ty. I want time with you, and by time, I don’t mean jail time. Got it?” Again, I storm off in a huff. I hear rustling mixing with him belly laughing behind me, but I don’t think it’s the least bit funny, so I ignore him. I’m hell-bent on my own mission without a stupid flashlight.
Feet running behind me still don’t cause me to stray from my plan. I don’t even care if he catches me. He can’t make me go through that gate and break laws and possibly be arrested. That would be kidnapping. Probably not really but in my head, it makes sense.
I shriek. “Stop it, you beast.” I smack his back as hard as possible from my position after he scoops me up over his shoulder and spins around a few times, making me super dizzy. “Tyler fucking Stone, I’m going to kill you.”
Still laughing, he slides my body down his without letting my feet touch the ground. I’m lifted just a head above him, and he looks up at me with the most panty-melting smile I can honestly say I’ve ever seen. Just WOW.