Page 17 of Always My Comfort

I missed the craziness.

“Son, are you happy?” Dad’s voice was gruff, tired, weathered, and not what I was expecting.

“I love the game, Dad,” I told him, waiting for his approval. Needing it.

“What dad isn’t asking, but I will, is where are our season tickets? You better hook us up, little brother,” Gage said. Dante wasn’t kidding about everyone being there.

“I’ll work somethin’ out with my coach. But I won’t be playin’ for the first few games until they announce Balmer’s retirement.”

“We want to be there when you pitch. I want to see that 105 mile-per-hour pitch in person,” Archer said, and somehow, his silent approval of switching to the Braves lifted a weight off my shoulders.

“I’ll make sure you all have tickets and merch to wear.” I ended the call a few minutes later after promising a trip home with Mom demanding it be soon.

CHAPTER7

Logan

Present

I’d never been opposed to becoming a mother. I loved kids, so much so that I became an elementary school teacher.

But I wanted everything checked off my list first. I worked with lists; they helped me organize my life and accomplish my goals.

Find love.

Get married.

Buy a house, preferably on the water, with lots of land for all the kids and dogs I want.

Rescue a dog.

Fall pregnant with the man of my dreams.

Raise a beautiful family.

That had been my list, and so far, I’d achieved none of it, and there was now a baby growing inside of me. At first, I thought I was going to find love in Richard, but I’d been digging for too long and came up empty-handed and more disappointed than anything else.

He’d never laid a hand on me, not like the struggles Scarlett had when we were in high school. Most times, he was too weak to kill a bug. But on the flip side, he’d hurt me in many other ways.

I was never good enough.

I didn’t look like the other girls, the blondes he seemed to chase after with boobs the size of my head. I worked during the day, which meant early mornings, and he hated being woken when he didn’t have practice.

Not to mention, we hadn’t had sex since New Year’s Eve. He often claimed I was the problem. When, in reality, he wasn’t good enough for me.

And because I wasted my time with him, hoping to find my soulmate in a man that was so far from perfect, I was now far from my ten-year plan.

The afternoon bell rang, signaling the end of recess, and my class of fifteen five-year-olds came bounding in, cheeks flushed, hair matted, and eyes wide with excitement. My assistant teacher, Stella, came in after them, her skin glowing from the afternoon sun.

“Alright, everyone. Grab some water and take a seat.” I stood, getting their attention. They all slowed to a walk and found their desks.

I’m going to miss this.

Stella turned the lights off, and the kids put their heads to their desks for a quiet moment as I talked about our next project. I got a few excited giggles when I mentioned the stuffed dog they would be taking home and introducing to their families.

I explained the rules—why they had to take pictures with the stuffed dog and how each person would then make a presentation. The most creative student would win based on the class vote.

Stella flipped the lights back on, and they all looked at me expectantly. I showed them a few examples from last year and then showed them Fluffy, the stuffed dog.

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