Page 116 of Mom Ball

I bury my head in my hands and swallow hard.

I don’t lift my head until we’re close to Apple Cart County. Nate hasn’t said a word in probably half an hour. My pulse races, and I fidget with the ends of my hair.

We turn onto the road leading to both our houses. Nate finally relaxes his grip on the wheel. I’m sure his shoulder is sore from all the tension. He passes his house and drives straight to mine. He parks in front and kills the engine. The darkness and silence are more than I can take.

“Nate, I never meant to hurt you.” My voice is so shaky, I barely recognize it.

“I know,” he whispers.

I sigh and throw my head back against the seat. “This sounds so stupid now, but at the time I really thought I was doing what was best for you. I didn’t want you to quit ball, and you would’ve, wouldn’t you?”

I twist my head to face him. The veins in his neck slowly sink back to normal. He shrugs, then lets his shoulders droop like a whooped puppy. “You’re probably right. I wouldn’t have wanted you to quit school and follow me. But I would’ve asked you to marry me either way.”

I close my eyes. Luckily, I’m fresh out of tears. If not, they’d be flowing like a creek after a rainstorm right now.

The biggest irony is I quit school anyway. I went to JuCo in Apple Cart, but not for teaching. If we had stayed together, I could’ve gone to school online or even delayed the wedding. It would’ve been hard to stay apart, but he would’ve been in our lives. Timothy would’ve had his daddy.

“I’m a horrible person. I love you more than anyone, and in trying not to hurt you, I hurt you more.”

I suck in a breath. Saying that out loud is oddly therapeutic. At the same time, it stings.

For the first time since I dropped this bomb on him, Nate reaches for my hand. His is sweaty and stiff, yet offers comfort. The fact that he even wants to touch me gives me hope.

We sit quietly, staring out the windshield for a moment. His hand relaxes, and he rubs the back of my mine with his thumb. I breathe in and out slowly, my heart rate returning to a safe speed for the first time in an hour.

“Brooke, I love you more than anything. And I love Timothy too, even more now that I know he’s mine.”

He sighs and continues rubbing my hand. Our eyes meet, and the sadness in his breaks my heart. I want to ask where we go from here, but bite my tongue. I’ve made enough decisions about us for a lifetime. It’s time he gets to drive.

“I wish you had told me. It hurts—really, really hurts. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad you kept this a secret, but I realize how scared you must have been.”

He reaches his other arm across the truck and cups my cheek. “I hate that you went through all that alone. We could’ve done it together. We are more important than ball or anything else. Timothy is more important than anything else.”

He stares at me as if waiting for a response. I nod against his hand. He’s right. However, I’m struggling to string together words, since I’m still trying to process all that’s happened between us in the last hour. He slides his hand from my cheek and drops it on top of our intertwined hands, adding more warmth and comfort.

“Who else knows?” he asks.

“Nobody. Not even my parents.”

“How is that possible?”

I turn my gaze toward the big house. The only light visible is from the spare room upstairs that Daddy uses to watch TV.

“I suspect they know. I’d prefer that to them thinking it was a random guy at school.”

“Why didn’t you tell them?”

I sigh and turn back to Nate. “They would’ve told you and Anne. Then it would’ve defeated my plan to keep you on the path to playing MLB.”

He looks back toward the road, then at me. “Oh man. I was so focused on being a dad that I didn’t even think of what Mom’s going to say.”

“She’ll probably hate me too.” I laugh nervously.

“Brooke, nobody hates you. We all love you, and Timothy.” He squeezes my hand. “I wouldn’t have handled it the way you did, but I wasn’t pregnant and scared either.”

“What do we do now?” My chest tightens.

This question has so many layers I pray he can untangle. I’m tired of thinking and want him to come up with a solution. I’m also a little afraid he might run back to Atlanta and leave everything as it was before coming back here.