Page 23 of The Light We Lost

I propped my chin on his chest, looking up at him. “Can we keep him?”

“He is pretty cute, but—”

“Before you say anything else, hear me out,” I said, already having prepared my speech. “With you at classes and practices throughout the day, we’ve got plenty going on. Probably even more when your season starts up and you have away games, but I’m going to be here. Yes, I have work, but I still have plenty of time for him.” Before we moved, I’d expected Nolan to be busy, both with school and baseball. But I hadn’t anticipated how much we’d be apart, nor how lonely I’d feel. The cat had already made the days not feel so long. “I’m confident he can take care of himself, but we can love him and give him a good home. Something he doesn’t have out there.”

He glanced between me and the kitten, likely knowing he didn’t stand a chance. “Guess you’re ours, little fella—” He grunted, laughing as I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed. “Hope you’re ready to spend at least the next decade of our lives with him.”

“Sounds like a dream,” I whispered, bringing his lips down to mine. I kissed him slowly and unwound from the time apart, grateful we had endless decades ahead.

“Did you have a good day?” I pulled away and started changing into my work uniform, which resembled something straight out of a diner from the eighties. I hadn’t planned to continue waitressing, but years of experience had made me an easy hire.It won’t be forever.“How’d you do on your psychology test?”

“I won’t know how I did until the professor posts the scores, but I feel good about it.” He kicked off his shoes, tipping his head in the direction of the wall. “Looks like you were busy too.”

I trailed his gaze, my eyes widening in horror as I stared at the flowers I’d painted—or tried to. Good hell. It was horrible. With fresh eyes, it was hard to see it as anything but a murderous fever dream. Why had I used so much red? And why did the leaves resemble knives? Rather than pointing out I’d have to paint over it to get our security deposit back, he said, “It’s beautiful, Indy.”

I snorted. “I already married you, you don’t have to lie.”

He laughed, neither confirming nor denying. “Are you wanting to start painting?”

“No.” I had no idea why I’d done it. Besides painting simple designs on my jeans, I’d never actually painted before. Maybe I was homesick, or Mom’s silence was loud, but I’d woken up today and felt a little . . . lost. I’d never felt that way before. “I don’t know what I want to do.”

His eyes softened. “You’re going to figure it out. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing now. Whether you want to dance, garden, paint—anything at all. It’s all fine by me, as long as you promise to let me tag along.”

Grateful, I smiled, not bothering to point out I hadn’t danced or gardened since we’d left Wallowpine. There was a line dancing joint nearby that I hoped we’d go to soon, but we didn’t have a yard or a patio, so gardening was out of the picture. I might’ve confessed more, how I missed home more than I expected, and I was doubting if it was okay that I had no big dreams or aspirations of my own, had I not seen the dirt on his forehead and clothes. His nose was sunburnt, and there were deep circles beneath his eyes. He was exhausted—he shouldn’t have to come home to this.

I grabbed his hand, wishing I could take back the past five minutes. “How was practice?”

He shrugged. “It was good.”

I let out a quiet breath, not surprised by his response. It was the one he’d given me all week. Just the same as the tightness he carried in his frame, even when we’d lie down for the night and watch an episode or two ofParks and Recreation. If Ron Swanson couldn’t make him laugh, then something was wrong.

Reaching up, I lifted the hat off his head and ran my fingers through his hair. “What’s going on?”

He shook his head, his smile forced. “I’m just tired. It was a long week.”

I nodded, not disagreeing. But I knew Nolan, and if he stewed in his thoughts long enough, he’d get lost in them. I slid my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his collarbone. “I love you,” I whispered into his skin, “and nothing you say or do will ever change that.” It was quiet for a moment, and I’d been with him long enough to know it wasn’t because he was hesitating to let me in. It wasn’t me he was doubting—it was himself. I didn’t mind waiting; for him I could be patient. I’d show him not everyone ran away.

He let out a deep breath, his hand wrapping with mine at our sides. “Everything I want is within reach, I can feel it. But at the same time . . . I throw one bad pitch, and I could lose everything. And I hate that feeling.” His voice was quiet, unsure. “Everyone on the team is damn good—don’t get me wrong, I know I am too. But there are eight other pitchers on the team, and if I want to impress the MLB, I’ve got to be better than every single one of them.”

I brought one of my hands to his back, leaving a trail of soothing circles. “You’re playing at a different level of ball, Nolan. Everyone’s going to be good, but in return that’s going to help you improve. The only player you need to worry about beating is the one you were yesterday.”

“And if my shoulder only gets worse?”

I pressed my lips together, not understanding where this was coming from. As far as I knew, his shoulder hadn’t been straining him. “Is it getting worse?”

He shook his head. “I just worry.”

“Okay.” I softened my voice, careful not to discredit what he was feeling. “Even if it gets to that point, it’s not the end of your career. We can do physical therapy, acupuncture. You have options.” There was another option, alwayslingering in the back of my mind. I’d never voiced it aloud, fearing it would change everything. Deciding we weren’t at that point, I said, “Your shoulder is strong, Nolan. You’ve put in the work—trust yourself.Youdeserve to be here as much as anyone else.”

His throat bobbed, and I knew from the way he scanned my gaze, he was searching for reassurance. He might not believe in himself, but it was obvious that me believing in him meant something. “There’s no way I’d be where I am without you, Indy.”

That wasn’t true. Take me out of the picture, and Nolan would be right here, pursuing his dreams. But I was glad I was here, grateful I could support him when he was unsteady. It was then I remembered why I hadn’t let myself be pressured into attending college or chasing after a big goal. All I wanted was a life with Nolan. I had time to figure everything else out.

“Can I come to your practice tomorrow?” I asked, wanting to lighten the mood. “I already know you’re the best pitcher, but I need to compare your butt to your teammates’. Make sure my husband still has the best ass.”

He smirked, but I didn’t miss the lingering heaviness in his eyes before he slipped away to shower. Grabbing my phone, I texted one of my coworkers to see if she’d swap shifts with me. It wouldn’t look good to my boss, but Nolan needed me. I knew I’d made the right decision when he stepped out of the bathroom and immediately looked relieved to see I’d changed out of my uniform and into my pajamas.

Grabbing his hand, I led him across the short distance to our bed. I didn’t want him to stress about the future. We were here, together.

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