“Yeah,” the other announcer said. “Speaking of crazy. Didn’t Rhys Rivera bring the same girl to the Lumberjack Banquet just last month?”

My brows furrowed in confusion, but they didn’t stay that way for long.

Not when a picture of Rhys and his friend, Melanie, rolled across the screen.

The picture was there for a total of five seconds when today’s footage took over the screen. This footage didn’t have Rhys and Melanie. It had Melanie and my George.

George was holding her close and laughing at something she was saying, and Melanie had sparkles in her eyes while she laughed, too.

My hand went over my mouth as tears started to fill my eyes.

“No,” I breathed.

I always knew this day would come.

Honestly, I did.

George was a beautiful man. He was virile, strong, and honestly a great guy.

I just didn’t think it’d come this soon.

I thought I’d have years to prepare for this. I thought I would have it all under control!

But I didn’t.

It’d only been nine months!

Nine!

I pulled out my phone and was dialing before I’d even realized what I was doing.

It rang once before I hung up.

Then, for good measure, I threw it across the room and broke it.

I would not call him tonight!

I would not.

Lucy jumped up on the couch beside me, sensing my discomfort.

Her licks started right about the time that my tears did.

And, before I knew it, I had latched onto Lucy’s neck and let every tear that I could produce roll into her doggy fur.

Not once did she tell me to get it together.

Thank God.Chapter 14Let’s just say, that didn’t go as planned.

-George’s secret thoughts

George

I tried one more time to get her on the line before I decided to drive over there.

My heart was in my throat as I raced up the stairs to Wrigley’s apartment.

By the time I was knocking on the door, I was assuming the worst.

But, she answered the door in a timely manner and looked more than surprised to see me.

“George, what are you doing here?” she asked, sounding odd.

I swallowed. She looked heartsick, and I knew that she’d seen what I wanted her to see.

She wouldn’t look me in the eyes, and something was wrong with her. Her light was gone. The one that she left on only for me.

And I knew, right then and there, that her response to seeing that picture had been the wrong one. I’d made the wrong decision.

I could see it in the way she held herself, and the way that she kept her distance.

“George? What are you doing here?” she repeated.

“You didn’t answer your phone. I called you five times,” I said. “I was worried.”

She shrugged. “I broke it last night. I’ll have to go get a new one.”

“I can get you one,” I offered. “I can…”

“I’m going to get my own plan,” she interrupted. “It’s time.”

I opened my mouth to deny that she needed that, but she interrupted me yet again. “And you can also stop paying for my sister’s apartment, while we’re on the subject. I know that you’re doing it, and I think it’s time that Dodger and I started taking care of that.”

“Wrigley, I…”

“Did you want to see Micah?”

I blinked, unsure how I was supposed to respond to that.

“Sure,” I said. “I’d love to see Micah, you know that.”

“Then you can go pick him up from Mother’s Day Out. I think I could use a nap.” She looked away from my gaze.

“Wrigley…”

“I’ll talk to you later, George.”

Without further ado, she shut the door in my face.

Then I heard her break down into sobs.

I knew then and there that I would do anything to never hear her cry again.

Unfortunately, the next few months I’d be hearing a lot of it. And none of it had anything to do with me.Chapter 15Questions are a good thing. The only time they’re not good is when the doctor that is working on your son asks them.

-Wrigley to George

Wrigley

To clear my head, and help Micah get some of his energy out, I decided that I’d be taking him on a walk down to the park.

It was less than a quarter mile away, and with how pretty it was outside today, I knew that it’d help me, too.

I’d been going over the night before, and this morning, for hours.

I’d focused on it, fretted about it, and genuinely drove myself crazy.

All in all, I was not in a good place.

And since I wasn’t in a good place, I decided a walk and some fresh air might help me grasp some perspective.

Because literally, I was hanging on by a thread.

That thread being my son.

“Mommy, bike!”

I looked at the little bike that my two-year-old little boy loved with all his heart. Something, sadly, his father had picked out for him.

Did he love the stuffed animals or the monster trucks I’d bought him? No.

He’d loved the bat, ball, and bike that his father had gotten him.

Tags: Lani Lynn Vale There's No Crying in Baseball Romance
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