The Trade(112)

“What?”

Oh fuck. What the hell am I saying? I press my hand to my forehead. “This is getting out of control.”

“Just like everything else in your life, right, Cory?” She shakes her head and goes to the bathroom where she collects her things. She tosses them in her suitcase and says, “I’ll make this easy on you. You’ve got your break. Take all the time away from me that you need, but I’m going to tell you, when you think you’re ready for this ‘break’ to be over,” she says using air quotes, “I’m not going to be waiting for you with open arms.”

She zips up her suitcase, and I stand in front of her so she can’t leave. “Just fucking wait, okay?” I let out a long breath. “Let’s talk this through.”

“I think we’ve done enough talking.”

“Natalie,” I say gruffly, capturing her arm and forcing her to look up at me. “Please. I love you.”

“No, you don’t.” She rips her arm from my grasp and pushes past me, her suitcase trailing behind her. “If you loved me, you would never have suggested we take a break. If you loved me, you would have leaned on me to figure out a way to work through the nightmare you’re living in. Together.”

“I tried.” I throw my hands up in the air, anger surging again. “But you don’t fucking listen. I told you not to come. You came. I told you to stay here. You went to practice. You escalated the problem, and that didn’t help.”

“Sorry for caring.”

“That’s a passive-aggressive apology.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Am I supposed to bow at your feet and beg for your forgiveness? Keep dreaming, Cory.”

“I’m asking you to understand where I’m coming from.”

She whips around in her pursuit to the door. “How could I possibly understand where you’re coming from when you’ve consistently told me not to worry about it, that you’re handling everything?” She waves at me and says, “Clearly you don’t have everything figured out, so instead, you’re going to take it out on me, on us.”

“This isn’t a forever ask, Natalie,” I plead, my emotions a fucking wreck. “This is just a brief pause so I can get my shit together, so I can be the man you deserve.”

Hand on her suitcase, she says, “I can tell you with absolute certainty that you are not the man I deserve. The man I deserve knows, even through the hard times, that I’m an asset, not a hindrance. He knows that of all the women out there, one who has a professional baseball-playing brother actually understands this more than any other woman. You clearly have some growing up to do to understand that.” She heads toward the door, opens it, and looks over her shoulder. “Don’t worry about pressing pause on us, Cory, let’s just call it what it is . . . over.”

With those parting words, she exits the room, the door slamming behind her.

In a roar, I scream, “Fuck,” and I pick up a glass off the table, throwing it into the wall, only to collapse to the floor where I pull my knees into my chest, rest my head on my arms.

What the fuck just happened?

I needed to press pause, not break up. I have to sort this out. I love her.

“I can tell you with absolute certainty that you are not the man I deserve. The man I deserve knows, even through the hard times, that I’m an asset, not a hindrance.”

Why can’t she hear that I just need time . . .

And why do I feel that I just made the biggest mistake of my life?





Chapter Twenty-Six





NATALIE





Over a Month Later (April)





“I really like the lighter hair? You rock blonde well.”

“Yeah?” I ask, looking at my hair in the mirror. It’s grown past my shoulders and I just got it done, so it’s more platinum than caramel, keeping some of the ombré coloring with thin highlights. “I was nervous it was going to be too much.”

Monica shakes her head. “It’s perfect.” She looks me up and down. “Not to mention, those jeans look amazing on you. Although, I think you’ve lost some of your ass.”

I turn my body in the mirror, looking at my backside. Yes, I have lost some of my ass, but that’s what a devastating breakup will do to you.

“I’ll gain it back, don’t worry.”

Monica bites her bottom lip and asks the question I was waiting to hear. “How are you feeling about tonight?”

“Fine,” I answer, turning toward her and sitting on my bed where my shoes are. “I’m excited for Jason.”

“Yeah, but are you excited for who else you will see?”

I shrug. “It is what it is. Jason is his teammate, and it’s not like I can avoid seeing him forever.”

Monica sighs and leans forward, resting her arms on her legs. “Natalie, you didn’t leave the house for two weeks, you’ve barely eaten anything, and it wasn’t until last week that you stopped crying whenever you heard his name.”

“Yes, well, that’s not to be mentioned. I told Jason everything was okay, that he didn’t need to pick sides, and that the split was amicable.”

“And he didn’t believe a word of it,” Monica counters.