The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game 1)

“Get outta here, Carter. Your flight leaves at ten tonight. We’ll messenger the tickets to your house. Congratulations, kid, you’re a hell of a pitcher. ”

“Thank you, Coach. Thank you so much. ” I stood, my hand shaking as I reached for his.

I throttled the gas, a million thoughts racing through my head, the most prominent one being how badly I wanted to share this moment with Cass. After everything we’d been through, she was still the first person who came to mind when I had news to share. It made me fucking sick to think I wouldn’t be moving her to Arizona with me. When I dreamed of the future, this had always been part of it. Getting to The Show was the foremost thing on my mind. But Cass at my side went hand in hand with that vision.

When I got home, I searched through the house. “Chrys? Chrystle?” I shouted.

“In here. ” Her voice drifted in from the kitchen.

I walked into the kitchen and caught her eye. “Start packing. We leave for Arizona tonight. ” I smiled.

“What? Really?” Her voice radiated with excitement as she threw her tiny arms around me.

Since she was no longer carrying my child, I didn’t move to hug her back.

I’m an asshole.

“A messenger will drop off the tickets and a car will pick us up at eight thirty. ”

“What do we do with all our stuff? Just leave it?”

“We’ll come back here when the season ends and pack everything up. But for now, just bring the necessities. I’m not sure how long we’ll be there. ”

“This is so exciting! I’m married to a big leaguer. ” Her voice rang out in song as she reached for her cell. “I’m going to call my mama. ”

“Alright. I’m gonna hop in the shower,” I said as she hummed to herself.

I ran upstairs and turned the shower on, closing the bathroom door behind me as I wished for a moment of solitude. Wished for a moment that Cass was here. Wished I hadn’t fucked things up. Realizing I’d left my cell phone in my gym bag downstairs, I opened the door to ask Chrystle to get it for me. “Chrys?” I scanned the bedroom, but she wasn’t there.

I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed downstairs when I overheard Chrystle say, “Oh please, Tressa, I’ve got him wrapped around my finger. I’ll have him so guilt-ridden by the time the night is through, he’ll never leave. ”

I paused on the stairs, listening with intent as she continued. “I know, right? No, he’s in the shower. Tressa! He doesn’t suspect a thing. And plus, I’ll make him sleep with me until I actually do get pregnant…for real this time. ”

My jaw worked as I saw red and my ears started to burn. “He has no idea I made the whole thing up. How could he? What does a guy know about being pregnant? Nothing. ”

She laughed and my temper flared. I stormed down the rest of the stairs and into the kitchen, my eyes burning a hole right through her. “Hang up the phone,” I demanded as her face twisted with surprise. “Hang up the goddammed phone. NOW!” I lunged for the device in her hand, but she pulled it away.

“Tressa, I have to go. I’ll call you later. ’Bye. ”

“Tell me you didn’t, Chrystle. Tell me you didn’t fucking lie to me about being pregnant. ” I vibrated with emotion, my hands balling in and out of fists, and she moved away from me.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she stared at me with her stupid face, and I wished for a brief second that it was socially acceptable to punch a chick. “Who else knows?” She didn’t move. “WHO…ELSE…KNOWS?” I shouted through my rage.

“J…j…ust Tressa and Vanessa,” she stuttered.

“You’re lying!”

“I’m not lying, Jack. I swear. They’re the only ones I told. ” Her voice shook with her admission.

I glared at her, my adrenaline pumping like wildfire through my already heated veins. “Why would you do that to me? You ruined my fucking life! You made me lose the only person I’ve ever loved for a lie?!! Why, Chrystle? TELL ME WHY?” I screamed from the other side of the granite island in the kitchen, pounding my fist against the top.

“Because!” she shouted back.

“Because why?”

“Because I just wanted a major league baseball player for a husband! Okay? I wanted to marry a professional athlete. I want

ed a rich and famous husband,” she screamed.