Page 147 of The Future Play

I swallow hard, staring, waiting for her to continue. “And?”

“Don’t worry. It was a false alarm. You don’t have to worry about the burden of having a child with me.”

This time I can’t stop myself. I grab her, trying to pull her close. “It wouldn’t be a burden.”

She shoves me off her and steps back, tears spilling down her cheeks. “How can you say that when you’ve mademefeel like a burden for weeks? I haven’t asked for much. I’ve supported you. I’ve gone on as many road trips as I could. I wasn’t in the same town for longer than three days at a time most of the summer. Iexhausted myself, ran myself ragged, and did everything for you, and all I have asked for all summer is for you to give me a shred of that in return! But when I needed you the most, you couldn’t even pick up a goddamn phone. You couldn’t do one simple thing for me.”

She covers her mouth as if it’ll keep me from seeing the sobs that rack her body.

Tears well in my eyes as I watch her, pure hatred rushing through me at how much pain I’ve caused her.

Slowly, I walk over to her and rest my hands on her arms, waiting to see if she’ll shove me away again. She doesn’t, but she takes half a step back, putting more distance between us.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I know that’s not enough—tell me what to say. Tell me how to fix it. Please.”

“It’s not my job to tell you how to fix this.” She lets out a shaky breath. “I need space, Jamie.”

“No. Please… we can?—”

“Stop. I need you to hear me right now. This summer has been more difficult a transition than either of us were expecting, but over the last few weeks, I’ve realized something. You knew—generally, at least—what this life looked like, and you signed up for it. But I didn’t. And now I need to take some time and figure out if this life is what I want. If I can manage it.”

My heart plummets. My chest tightens. That sounds a lot more like a breakup than it does space.

“No. I—don’t leave me. I… I’ll quit. I’ll quit baseball, but I don’t want to lose you.”

“This isn’t a breakup or an ultimatum. If you ever make the choice to leave baseball, it can’t be for me. Or all you’ll do is resent me. And you’ve missed the point if you think I’d ever want you to give up on your dream.” She gently rests her hand on my cheek. “All I’ve ever wanted is to mean as much as baseball, so sometimes you’d be willing to make me your first choice. And I thought I was, but…” She swallows down her tears. “A lot has happened. Now I need time and space to figure out what I need. You need to do the same. Let’s take a couple of weeks, then we can talk and figure out… where we can go from here.”

Tears fall down my cheeks as she steps back.

I grab her arm, not willing to let her go. I can’t let her go.

“Please. Don’t leave. I love you.”

She stares at me for a long, painfully silent moment. “Do you love me? Or am I just a comfort blanket you’re afraid to let go of?”

Shock burns through me that she could ever think that. “Amanda…”

Her lip trembles, but she steadies herself, then leans in and kisses me on the cheek. “We’ll talk in a couple of weeks.”

With a lingering look, she walks out the door.

I stare at the closed door until my eyes are blurry with tears, then I fall to my knees, sobbing.

I can handle losing a lot of things. My best game, my sense of normalcy, the daily support of my friends. I think I could even handle losing baseball. But losing Amanda?

There’d be no coming back from that.

She’s my person. My best friend. The love of my life.

And I broke her. Now I have to face the consequences, and pray there’s still a chance we can find our way back from this, even if the hope in my heart is cracking and fading away.

22

FIX YOUR SH*T

Amanda

I don’t knowwhy I’m at my parents’ house. They’re not home. I should’ve just gone back to school. I wanted somewhere that felt less lonely. But nothing helps with the loneliness in my heart.

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