Page 22 of Playing with My Heart

The clock on the nightstand read just past eight. No note, no text—David was already consumed by his work at the hospital. I let out a sigh and scrubbed a hand over my face, the weight of the ring he’d offered feeling like an anchor around my heart.

I’d stood there, dumbfounded as David had leapt back up to his feet and pulled me into his arms. Then he’d led me over to the table where he’d served me a generous helping of the casserole he’d made. Dinner had been mostly quiet, neither of us sure what to talk about with work off the table. Afterwords, we’d curled up on the couch and started a movie, but halfway through, David’s snores drowned out the dialogue between the main characters. It was only once I’d sent him to bed and was turning off the lights that I realized I’d never actually given him an answer.

My phone buzzed on the bedside table, a welcome distraction from the quiet apartment. It was Travis.Hey, you and David want to come to the Cubs game today? I’ve got extra tickets.

David’s absence answered for him.He’s at work, I typed back, the words causing bitterness to rise in my throat.

Too bad. You up for it, though? Could use some company.

I hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. I really should stay home and try to figure out what in the hell I was going to say to David the next time I saw him, yet the thought of being alone, trapped with my thoughts and the memory of David on one knee, was suffocating.

Sure, I replied, a pulse of recklessness urging me on.Pick me up?

Awesome. See you in an hour.

An hour and a half later, I found myself amidst the cheers and chatter of Wrigley Field, the roar of the crowd a stark contrast to the silence of my apartment. Travis’s enthusiasm was infectious, but even the crack of the bat couldn’t shatter the confusing thoughts that circled on an endless loop inside my brain, refusing to give me even a moment’s peace.

“You okay?” Travis asked during the seventh-inning stretch, his blue eyes searching mine, full of warmth and concern.

“Yeah,” I lied, managing a half-smile. “Just tired, I guess.”

Travis gave me a look that said he didn’t quite believe me, but he didn’t push. Instead, he grinned and said, “Well, we can’t have that. Time for some ballpark therapy.”

He disappeared into the crowd, returning several minutes later, laden down with a large bag of popcorn, cotton candy, four hotdogs, and a beer for each of us. The sight was so ridiculous, so utterly indulgent, that I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Doctor’s orders,” Travis said with a wink, handing me a hot dog and a beer.

As we dug into the treats, I felt something loosen in my chest. The tension that had been coiled tight since the night before began to unwind, melting away like cotton candy on my tongue. Travis regaled me with outrageous stories from his college days, his animated gestures punctuating each punchline. Before I knew it, I was laughing so hard my sides ached, the weight of my unresolved engagement momentarily forgotten.

The crowd erupted into cheers as the Cubs clinched their victory, the energy palpable as fans jumped to their feet. Travis and I high-fived, caught up in the excitement. As people began filtering out of the stadium, Travis turned to me with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Hey, want to see something cool?” he asked, a grin spreading across his face.

“Sure,” I replied, curiosity piqued. “What did you have in mind?”

Travis leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear as he spoke over the noise of the departing crowd. “How about we go meet the team?”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Meet the team? Are you serious?”

He nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Perks of being their physical therapists next season. We’ve got access to the locker room. What do you say?”

The excitement of meeting the Cubs players momentarily overrode my inner turmoil. I found myself nodding eagerly, a grin spreading across my face to match Travis’s. “Lead the way,” I said, my heart racing with a thrill I hadn’t felt in far too long.

Travis grabbed my hand, pulling me through the thinning crowd. His touch sent a jolt through me, both familiar and dangerously new. We wove our way down to field level, Travis flashing his credentials at security checkpoints. With each step closer to the locker room, the noise of the stadium faded, replaced by the low hum of post-game activity.

The locker room door swung open, and suddenly we were surrounded by the Cubs themselves. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sweat, deodorant, and victory. Players moved about, some still in uniform, others freshly showered, all riding the high of their win. Travis moved through the space with aneasy familiarity, greeting players and staff alike. I hung back, slightly overwhelmed by the surreal nature of the moment.

“Parker, come here,” Travis called, waving me over to where he stood chatting with the first-base coach. “This is Coach Napoli. Mike, this is Parker, the new PT I was telling you about.”

His handshake was firm, his smile genuine. “Nice to meet you, Parker. Travis says you’ve been a real asset to his team. We look forward to working with you.”

I felt heat creep up my neck at the compliment, acutely aware of Travis’s gaze on me. “Thanks. I’m looking forward to it too,” I managed to reply.

Travis introduced me to more of the team and I felt a surge of admiration for him. He moved through this world with such ease, making everyone feel comfortable and valued. It was a skill I’d always admired in him, but seeing it in action here was something else entirely.

As we made our way through the locker room, I found myself relaxing, swept up in the excitement and camaraderie. Players shared jokes, rehashed key moments from the game, and discussed plans for celebrating their win. It felt like being part of something bigger, a world away from the doubts and uncertainties waiting for me at home.

Travis’s hand on my shoulder brought me back to the present. “Ready to head out?” he asked.

---