I cocked an eyebrow across the table at him. “Let me guess… it would also be perfect timing for me to go with you to the district attorney’s office and give our victim impact statements.”
Baden shrugged as if he hadn’t given it much thought when I know he had. “It would make sense to handle it while we’re there.”
Despite his attempt to get me to agree, I wasn’t so easily charmed.
I was still too afraid to confront all the bad memories in Phoenix, and I declined his offer.
Over the subsequent five days, the Titans had two more games—one home and one away in Florida—and Baden was incredibly busy. But it didn’t stop him from broaching the subject with me whenever he could. If he wasn’t at the house, it was via text.
When he was home, it would come up as we shared meals or household chores or over a cup of morning coffee.
While I remained steadfast in my refusal to go to Phoenix with him, our time together, and his obvious concern about me, made something very clear. I very much enjoyed having Baden around. I definitely felt safer and more secure, but I also felt such joy in his presence. Being near him was so easy and right.
It wasn’t hard to admit… I liked him a lot. Probably more than I should, but I was going to enjoy every damn minute for as long I could.
Over the last five days in those moments we had together, whether they were sharing a cup of morning coffee, a meal or helping me to shovel the front sidewalk after it snowed, Baden relentlessly attempted to get me to change my mind about going to Phoenix.
He easily swatted away every excuse I gave.
Too busy searching for a new job.
He pointed out that he had yet to see me go to an interview, and that since all my job searching was done online, I could easily do that while we traveled.
I would only be in your way.
Baden assured me that I could never be in his way.
Admittedly, that one got me in the feels.
I offered a dozen more excuses, none of which he found acceptable.
And then finally, I divulged what was actually causing me anxiety. “You’ll be traveling with the team, and I’m not ready to fly alone yet.”
It turns out that excuse was not so easily solved by Baden, and he couldn’t dismiss it out of hand. As a coach, he’s expected to travel with the team. I certainly don’t know if it’s a written rule anywhere, but I know that team camaraderie and cohesion is reinforced at every opportunity. Traveling together to an away game is one of those moments to solidify that. I imagine it’s even more crucial given that our previous team died together on a plane.
But Baden wouldn’t be deterred. He slipped away and made a phone call outside of my earshot, and when he reappeared, he was practically gloating that he’d gotten special permission from Callum Derringer and Matt Keller to travel with me to Phoenix.
Their decision to let him travel separately from the team wasn’t just about providing me with support, but was also more convenient for Baden since he was going to give his victim impact statement the morning after the game. The team would fly on to Houston for their next game, and he would fly commercial to join them after.
It sounded like I had no more excuses, except that I would be returning to Pittsburgh on my own, but that would probably be the easiest part of the trip—returning to the comfort of my hometown where my dad would pick me up at the airport doors. It couldn’t get any safer.
And still, I couldn’t figure out why I was so resistant to going when Baden was making the whole trip as simple as possible.
Then I realized, the one thing that was really tearing me apart was confronting the attack. I didn’t want to give my victim impact statement.
I didn’t want to talk to the district attorney, and I didn’t want to get up in front of people and talk about how traumatizing this has been for me. I didn’t want people to look at me with pity and listen to my story and then even perhaps wonder what the hell I had to be traumatized about. I was basically roughed up a little. Compared to Baden, I should have no qualms talking about my trauma when he’s the one who almost died.
In other words, I’m just completely embarrassed that this has affected me so significantly. I feel weak, stupid, and pathetic.
Until now, I’ve been able to stay in a bubble so people can’t judge me or my inability to move on. But if I go to Phoenix, I’m going to put it out there for people to see.