Page 291 of Vegas Heat

I feel her eyes on me, and as much as I’m not ready to revisit every detail of what went down, maybe she has some words of wisdom to help me figure out a way to move forward.

“Troy and Joanie decided to get married the night before we left for Arizona in a surprise wedding. I walked into the chapel to see if it was time for photos while Troy waited outside, and Gabby was in there. She was beautiful, Mom.” I close my eyes at the memory of the absolute vision my girl was that day. “I kissed her, and Troy caught us. We had no choice but to come clean. Joanie admitted she knew, and he called off the wedding and stormed out. I found him at the club he owns, and he essentially told me I would not screw up the team over this and what I was doing was practically illegal. He told me I had to break it off with her before we left the next morning or he’d go to Mike and blow it up himself.”

“So you chose the team over her?” my mom asks, and I keep my eyes closed but I can tell she’s glaring and pursing her lips at me.

“It wasn’t like that.” I open my eyes and sit up a little to defend my choices. I know Gabby sees it that way, too, but that’s not what happened. At least in my mind it isn’t. “It wasn’t about me at that point anymore. It was about her relationship with her father. It was about honoring the commitment I made to the team before I knew that this thing with her was going to become what it did. It was about protecting her from the fallout of all of this. From the judging eyes of the media and the fans and the general public.”

“Honey, you can’t protect her from those things. She has a famous father. She’s in the spotlight whether she wants to be or not, and if anything, you there holding her hand might offer her a layer of protection,” she points out, which is honestly something I hadn’t thought of before.

Instead of thinking the two of us could get through this together by holding hands through it, my brain went the opposite direction to believe she’s better off without me.

And now I’m left a little confused as to which answer is the right one.

“Even if that’s true, what about Troy?” I ask. “I knew all along he’d never be okay with the idea of anybody with his daughter.”

“Then why’d you stay with her as long as you did?” she asks.

“Because I love her.” The answer seems so simple. “When we were hiding it from him, it was easy. It felt wrong, maybe, but we were flying under the radar.”

“Love should never have to be hidden.” She reaches over and grabs my hand. She squeezes it. “You’re miserable, baby boy, and it makes my heart hurt for you. I want to fix it, but I don’t know how.”

“You can’t fix the unfixable.”

“Gosh, you sound so much like your father.” She shakes her head as her words ping right into my heart. “He was so stubborn, and once he got an idea in his head, he had a hard time letting it go. It seems you have this idea in your head that you’re the sole leader on that team. But you know what? The Dodgers survived when you got hurt. It’s ateameffort. I know you think you’re doing the right thing by honoring the commitment you made to the team, but if it’s at the expense of your happiness, then maybe it isn’t the right thing after all.”

My only response is to lean my head back onto the back of the couch and stare up at the ceiling again.

“What do I do, Mom?” I murmur, my voice edged with emotion.

“Only you can decide that.” Her answer is predictable, but she’s right.

“What would Dad have wanted?” I ask. “Wouldn’t he have told me to honor my commitments?”

“He would have told you he loved you and he was proud of you no matter what you decided. And I think he’d tell you to consider whether you’re doing what youthinkyou’re supposed to do or if you’re doing what youactuallywant to do.”

My chest aches that he’s not here as part of this conversation—that he hasn’t been here for any of these conversations for twenty-four years.

God, has it really been that long?

It’s been just over a month since I ended things with Gabby—since Troy forced my hand.

I remember the sentiment back when I ended things with Gabby the first time, back when I found out her father was Troy and I was staying in the bedroom beside hers. Back then I thought about how time is a cruel bitch that steals things from us, and back then I felt like I had to wait out the clock until I could move out of Troy’s place and get the season underway.

But now it feels like time is moving too fast. It feels like I’ve wasted the last month not being with her.

Things aren’t the same with Troy, and I’m certain they never will be again. It’s not like I chose his friendship over my relationship with Gabby. Either way I was going to lose him, I suppose. I always imagined I’d be able to shoot the shit with my father-in-law, that we’d be friendly with each other while he acted as the type of person I could go to for advice if I needed it. I always imagined the same thing about my manager. Instead, Troy has largely written me off when it comes to personal relationships, and instead his only focus is on coaching.

So I didn’t just lose the woman I love. I also lost my best friend, and I haven’t had the time to mourn either one of those relationships because I’ve been too busy with spring training.

But now I’m back, and I want my life back.

I wantherback.

I can’t keep living like this.

“How do I get her back?” I whisper. Heat presses behind my eyes, an unusual and scary feeling I wouldn’t let out in front of anybody but my mom.

She grabs my arm and squeezes it in a hug. “You fight for her, baby. You chose the game when you ended things with her. So now you choose her. Whatever that means.”

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