Page 114 of Mom Ball

“Then why?” I whisper back.

Tears pool in her eyes and she sniffles. What in the world could make her cry? Was it something I said? A bad memory of our breakup? I don’t get it.

She blinks, allowing a few tears to fall. Then she swipes at the corners of her eyes with her thumb and glances around the walking trail and park. “Can we talk somewhere more private?”

“Yeah.” My voice is hoarse, and I’m shocked it even worked.

I drop her hand and wrap my arm around her tightly. We walk snuggled together toward my truck. It’s only a few yards away, but my stomach is a mess by the time we get there.

I chuck my coffee in a trash can beside the parking lot, even though about a third of it is left. My body can’t handle any more sugar with Brooke in this condition. I’m a nervous wreck and I don’t know why.

Not knowing is probably why. What is wrong?

She hops in my truck as soon as I unlock the doors. I climb in my side and close the door. I twist to face her, but she stares blankly out the windshield.

“I broke up with you because I got pregnant.”

Forget my stomach. Now my entire body is hemorrhaging. I analyze every conversation and interaction we had at the end of our relationship. Just as I did for months after she ended things.

Only this time, I take a deeper dive into her mannerisms and excuses for not seeing me. It’s all starting to make sense. But why?

Brooke is a porcelain doll, stiff and expressionless in my passenger seat. I narrow my eyes, as if I could read her better that way. For once, I have no idea what she’s thinking and why.

Several excruciating minutes pass before I process everything and gain my composure.

“I’m shocked you cheated on me, but I admire you for telling me after all these years. I still love you.”

A sad laugh-cry comes from her. She shakes her head and turns to me. Her eyes are dull and lifeless, making her still more doll-like than human.

“I never cheated on you.”

I tilt my head, more confused than ever. “But you said you got pregnant when we—” My heart rate accelerates to an unhealthy level.

We were together one time. Like together together. We both knew we should wait, and we both wanted to. But at some point we both wanted to not wait more.

Did I regret it? Yes.

Not at the time. I’d never felt more alive, and I’d always planned on marrying her one day. However, our relationship changed after that. She became distant, and then she didn’t want to be with me. I blame myself as the guy for allowing it to happen. If I hadn’t, we may have never broken up in the first place.

I’m pretty sure we’re now on the same page, but I need her to say it. Her chest rises and falls, and her neck gets red and splotchy as she watches me figure it out. Still, I need to hear it from her.

“I’m Timothy’s dad?”

She nods slowly.

Wow. An eighteen-wheeler could plow over me and my head wouldn’t spin so fast.

That explains so much. The kid loves me. I love him. He’s left-handed and good at baseball. He loves baseball. It pretty much explains everything except for Brooke keeping him a secret from me—and me from him.

A string of curses dances in my head. Unlike a lot of athletes at my level, I don’t have a dirty mouth. I keep them inside, even though a bomb like this could make a preacher cuss.

Instead, I crank the truck and back out of the parking lot. When I glance past Brooke to see if it’s clear to enter the road, she blinks at me with her mouth half open.

Is she shell-shocked? Good for her. How does she think I feel?

We’re on down the road, stopped at a main intersection light, when she breaks the silence.

“Nate, please talk to me.”

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