Page 17 of Family Like This

“If you want me to step back from the team—”

He holds up his hands. “It’s your senior year. I’m not going to take it away from you. Plus, it gives the younger guys more play time. Try to let me know ahead of time if you won’t make a game. I’m less concerned about practice. You know your shit and you take care of yourself.”

“Thank you for being understanding.”

He gives me a small smile. “I know how you feel. My wife and I got quite the surprise for Christmas our senior year of college. Talk about a change of plans. It all worked out, though. This is college baseball. It’s fun. For some of the boys on the team, it’s their future. For you, it’s a piece of the puzzle, and your real world problems are more important. Focus on what you need to focus on. Just keep me in the loop.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Coach. I plan to be there for the game tomorrow, but I need to head back home tonight.”

“Drive safe. Keep me updated.”

“Will do, Coach.”

Thank fuck, Coach M is a reasonable man. It also helps that there are only a few more weeks left in the season, I’m not going pro, and this isn’t a D1 school.

With that done, I make my way out of the building, aiming for my car so I can get back to the lake house, pack a change of clothes, and get to my girl.

She might not technically be my girlfriend, but she’s mine. Mine to support, mine to protect, mine to take care of. Whether she likes it or not.

Amelia

Mini rice cakes are my salvation. Any flavor will do. They settle in my stomach and don’t make me nauseous. Which might be why I have four different bags open on my coffee table right now and am reaching over from where I’m lying on the couch to rotate between them.

I have a water bottle with one of those big straws sitting on the floor so I can easily sip on some lemon water.

That’s a trick I got from my mom. Whenever I was sick to my stomach as a kid, I had cold lemon water and straw to sip it through. I have no idea if it helped, but it felt like it did.

For a moment, I let my mind wander, imagining what it would be like if she were still her. How she’d have reacted to me being pregnant. How she’d laugh and tell me to lock Miles down because a man that’s tall, dark, and handsome while still being a good guy doesn’t come around often. I wouldn’t be sitting here alone right now eating mini rice cakes. She’d be here whipping up something that would magically make me feel better. She’d rub my back and tell me how excited she was to be a grandma.

I haven’t been to the nursing home to see her since I found out. Does that make me a shitty daughter? I adore my mother, but seeing her when I can’t share the biggest news of my life with her is soul crushing.

I sniff back tears and violently shove another ranch flavored mini rice cake in my mouth. I’m exhausted physically and emotionally, and I’ve never felt lonelier.

What does one do when they’re pregnant, lonely, and need to puke at regular intervals throughout the day?

This, apparently.

It’s around seven, and I’m torn between wanting to give up and go to bed or considering getting up and making something to eat.

After munching on a few more rice cakes, I haven’t decided anything. A key rattles in the lock of the door. Dani said she would come over and check on me, so I’m not concerned. Besides, what kind of murderer would have a key? But a moment later, the door swings open and it’s not Dani who strolls into the apartment. It’s Miles.

I push myself up to sitting and then do what a strong, capable woman shouldn’t do. What I never used to do. I break down crying.

I don’t need a man to save me. I never have. But as he crosses the room and wraps me in his arms, it’s not about what I need anymore. It’s about what I want. I want to be saved. Not because I can’t take care of myself, but because holding everything together by myself is exhausting. Pure relief washes over me as he sets his bag down and walks over to the couch.

He sits down and pulls me into his arms. “Shh, baby. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

I curl against his large frame, letting him hold me tightly. “What are you doing here?” I mutter.

“Don’t be mad at her, but I talked to Dani, and she mentioned you weren’t doing so well. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it makes me feel weak,” I admit, though I refuse to look at him as I say it.

“The last thing I would ever think you are is weak. You’re strong, Amelia. One of the strongest people I know, but that doesn’t mean you always have to be. You’re going through insane changes right now that affect you both physically and mentally. Of course you’re going to struggle. I just wish you would’ve told me.”

“Did you come back here for me?”

He laughs. “Yeah. I wish I could be here every night with you. Dani said you were crying this morning. About what?”

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