Page 187 of Play Along

Yes, I was infatuated, but it was nothing in comparison to the love I have for that girl now.

A hit of thunder rolls in a loud boom, and I close my eyes, trying to drown out the sound, when my phone dings in my hand.

With a text from Kennedy.

The Mrs: Hi.

My chest settles.

Me: Hi.

The Mrs: Are you okay?

The Mrs: I know you told me to take the weekend, but if you need me to come over, I’ll be there.

It takes everything in me to keep from calling her up right now just to hear her voice, but I don’t because I told her to take the time to think.

I don’t call her because we both need to know that I can get a handle on my anxiety without her help, whether we’re together or not.

Me: I’m going to get through this one on my own, but I fucking miss you.

There’s a long wait before the next text. Gray dots dance along the screen before they disappear and reappear.

The Mrs: I’m proud of you.

The Mrs: And I miss you.

Me: Did you eat today?

The Mrs: Don’t act like you weren’t the one who had food delivered to my house three separate times today. Yes, I ate.

The Mrs: And thank you.

Me: You weren’t sick today, were you?

The Mrs: I just needed some time away from there.

Away from me? I want to ask, but I refrain because she sends another text.

The Mrs: My laptop is there. It’s sitting on the dresser in your closet.

Her laptop with the CliffsNotes version of the research her old peer had sent over. Techniques derived from a specific type of therapy, rewritten in a way for me to understand.

The Mrs: Call me if you need me and I’ll be there, but Isaiah, you’re a lot stronger than you let yourself believe.

And so I do it. I get through the night without allowing my anxiety to check in on anyone, without calling her for help, because she needed to know that I could do it on my own.

Chapter 37

Kennedy

Pure determination radiates off me as I park my car in the employee lot. I’m running a little late. The pep talk I gave myself in the mirror today took a little longer than I had planned.

But I’m here and ready.

I haven’t been to the field since Friday, and granted it’s only Monday, but I couldn’t tell you the last time I spent two days away from the team during the regular season, other than my interview trip to San Francisco.

I called in sick yesterday because I refuse to spend another day working for Dr. Fredrick, and Reese wasn’t back to work until today for me to tell her. I sent her a frantic email on Saturday night, asking for a meeting, and Monday afternoon was her soonest available time to chat.

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