Page 44 of Big Pitch Energy

“Sam, you'll be gone for seven months, eight if you make the playoffs.” I forced myself to meet his eyes. “That's more than half the year.”

“Yeah, that's how baseball works,” he said with a lopsided grin, like he was waiting for me to catch up and tell him the real issue.

I continued before I lost my nerve.

“And I don’t live in Myrtle Beach. I can't just drive over for home games or hang out with you on off days.”

“So you'll come visit when you can.”

It seemed so obvious to him, so simple.

“When I can?" I repeated, feeling that familiar knot tightening in my chest. "Sam, I own a business and have other commitments besides that. I can’t just drop everything and fly to whatever city you're in.”

“Then we'll figure it out.” He reached across the table for my hand. “We'll make it work.”

I pulled my hand back as frustration bubbled up.

“How? How exactly are we going to make it work? Because I've been trying to figure that out for a week, and I can't.”

The easy confidence in his expression wavered.

“What are you saying?”

“I'm saying I don't know how to do this.” The words came out shakier than I intended. “I don't know how to be with someone who's gone more than they're here. I don't know how to build something real when we're living in different states for seven months out of the year.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his jaw working like he was choosing his words carefully.

“Are you asking me to choose?”

“No.” I said quickly.

The thought that he’d think I was asking him to give up his career for me had never once entered my mind.

“Because it sounds like you are.”

“I swear I'm not. I'm just trying to be realistic about what this looks like going forward.” I sat back in my chair. “You have a whole life that I can't be part of, a career that takes you away for months at a time. And I have a life here, one I can't just put on hold.”

“I never asked you to put your life on hold.”

“But that’s what it would take, isn’t it?” I said, the words tumbling out before I could soften them. “I keep thinking about that conversation at Leo and Anjannette’s wedding, when all your teammates’ wives talked about how hard it is. And they live in the team’s home city, Sam. They’re already where you are. And even then, it sounded like a logistical nightmare.” I shook my head, the pressure building behind my ribs. “To make this work, I’d have to be the one making all the compromises. I’d have to rearrange my schedule and squeeze into the margins of your life and hope that’s enough.”

He dragged his fingers through his hair.

“So what do you want to do?”

“I don't know, Sam. That's the problem. I don't know.”

“You don't know, or you don't want to try?”

The question stung.

“That's not fair.”

“Isn't it?” His voice was getting harder now. “You're sitting here telling me all the reasons this won't work instead of looking for ways it could.”

“I'm being practical.”

“Practical or scared.”

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