He actually looked exactly like I felt – though he probably felt pretty shitty himself considering he was just tossed from the game. He’d been particularly amped for this one too, thanks to some trash talking from the other side. By the sixth inning, he’d racked up eight strikeouts and was still flirting with a no-hitter.
But then he got ejected for throwing a punch at Tampa Bay’s shortstop, Trevor Martinez, and now we were both hanging out in the empty locker room, barely saying a word.
Of course that changed when the commentators onscreen started talking about Drew.
“You know, Joe, you look at this bases-loaded jam the Empires are in and you just wish Drew Maddox were still on the mound.”
“Well, he should’ve controlled his temper.”
“You’re not wrong about that.”
“Shoulda, woulda, coulda…”
“The fuck? That asshole charged the mound!” Drew defended himself to the TV, spewing a dozen variations of fuck as he watched a Tampa Bay double tie the game. “Goddammit, Griff!” he cursed his relief pitcher as I sat back with less of a reaction than I should’ve had, especially since the Empires were only a half game ahead of Tampa in the division.
I gave an obligatory “damn” but it was too late and so half-assed that Drew shot me a weird look.
“Are you pretending to be mad for my sake?” he snorted.
In my head, I shrugged, but on the outside I was pretty sure I didn’t move much.
“Jesus, dude. You’re starting to scare me. It’s like you’re catatonic.”
“I met you here, what else do you want from me?”
“I want you to look alive, motherfucker! Throw something! Be pissed with me! Come on, man!” He ripped his hat off his head. “What do I have to do to get you to be a person again?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
I genui
nely didn’t.
I was pretty much blank since that Sunday two weeks ago, when I woke up in the middle of the night to find that Aly was gone.
I honestly should’ve expected it. I should’ve known she was going to leave because if I were her, I wouldn’t be able to look at me either. Yeah, I’d done everything out of love but I got how she’d feel humiliated. How she’d need time away from me.
That was what she called it.
“I just need some time.”
But time meant distance too, apparently, because when I showed up at her work that same day, her friend Evie asked me not to come by again. The same happened the next morning, but it was followed by Evie putting her foot down.
“It’s not right to make Aly dread coming to work every day for fear of seeing you,” she said evenly.
And she was right about that.
So after leaving the restaurant that morning, I went back to the house and threw a few things in a bag. I grabbed Ozzy’s favorite toys off the floor, picked him up from Julian’s and drove the two-and-a-half hours home to Manhattan.
There was no way in hell that I’d survive being in the same town as Aly if I couldn’t see her, so I decided to cut my summer in the Hamptons short.
That was about twelve days ago and every one since Drew had been trying in vain to pull me out of my funk. His go-to plan was always a night out in the Meatpacking District or Lower East Side, but I’d rejected every one of those invitations. I knew he’d try to push me to hook up with as many girls as possible, and as much as my dick missed human contact, I wasn’t really interested.
Being away from Aly didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about her. I was. Every minute of the day.
I still wasn’t used to going to bed without my arm draped over her body. I didn’t even want to admit that I had pitifully tried hugging a pillow the first few nights. Spoiler alert: it didn’t work.
On multiple occasions, I considered just going back to the Hamptons to see her, but the one time I decided to go through with it, I wound up spending two hours looking for the house keys.