Suddenly, she focuses every ounce of attention on me. “I’m so sorry, Walker. I’m sorry you’re being dragged into this. That you were present that night, that you had to see me like that. I hate that you had to see me like that.”
Immediately, I’m out of my seat and crouching beside her chair, taking her chin into my hands. We haven’t spoken about that night since we’ve been together, at least not in detail. The whole thing seems surreal, like maybe it didn’t even happen. But with the trial date being set, reality has dumped a bucket of ice water on our happy, rose-colored bubble.
“Don’t you dare apologize for that. I worried for weeks, still do, about what would have happened if I wasn’t there. It tears me up inside knowing that he did that to you for years. I want to fly into a blind rage every time I think about it. Every time I touch your body, or hear you talk, all I want to do is worship the very ground you walk on. I can’t imagine someone doing any less than that, or even a fraction of what he put you through.”
“Was it awful? That night? What will you say in court?” she whispers, tears shining in her eyes.
I have to look down and gulp through all the emotions flitting through my system.
“I just remember seeing you, lying there, and having this overwhelming need to throttle Shane into the ground. And then, after Hayes pulled me off, all I wanted was to hold you. I could barely give you over to the paramedics, I remember them having to pry you from my arms. When we were in the ambulance, I couldn’t stop myself from shaking. And then sitting next to you in that hospital …”
My voice breaks, and I didn’t expect tonight to be so emotional. But it’s good, we have to get this out in the open before the trial. Before we can move on to our next chapter together.
“I don’t think it’s a secret that I’ve harbored feelings for you when you were married. Honestly, I think I drank myself into a stupor on the night of your rehearsal dinner. But I buried it, tried to distance myself. If I had known, Hannah, I would have … I would have done something years ago.”
She palms my cheek. “How do I deserve you? How could I have been so blind? All those years, I should have opened my damn eyes.”
I shake my head. “But we wouldn’t be where we are now, for better or for worse. What do you remember about that night?”
I’ve been wondering it since I picked her up off the pavement months ago.
Hannah sucks in a breath. “Honestly? Not much. I think I must have blacked out when it all started. I remember why we were arguing; I uncharacteristically lit into Shane for wanting to go out drinking without me after the game ended. The girls had been home with a sitter, and I had a free couple of hours, which was unusual. I wanted my husband to want to take me out to celebrate. He refused. I pushed back. That’s when things got ugly. After that, it’s all bits and pieces. Hayes yelling. Colleen’s nine-one-one call. I remember you whispering to me in the ambulance, telling me that I was going to be okay. And after … I remember coming out of a haze once in the hospital, with your fingers wrapped in mine. It was the most comfort I’d felt in ages. You saved me, Walker.”
“I hate that it happened the way it did, but it brought you to me. I can’t hate that.” I kiss her hand. “We’re going to make it through this trial. You know that, right?”
She gulps and nods, but looks unsure. “I hope he goes to jail, or has some kind of punishment, but I’m not counting on it. He’s famous, it’s his first offense. Other mediocre men have gotten off for less and doing worse. I don’t know what I’ll do if he just walks free of this.”
“And if he doesn’t, we cross that bridge when we come to it. Together. I buried my feelings once, let you walk into another man’s arms once, I won’t do it again.”
She wipes her eyes with the back of her free hand. “Good. I’m not letting you go anywhere either, for the record.”
Ever since the night of the drive-in, it feels like something has slipped into place between us. Like the last missing puzzle piece aligned, and now we’re in sync more than ever. I’m so close to letting those three little words slip out, but I don’t want to cause her anymore turmoil. The trial has to be looming closer, and with baseball season just around the corner, I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep.
I do love her, though. I’ve been in love with her for a long time. I’ve often wondered what she would have said if I told her I had feelings for her all those years ago on the eve of her wedding, instead of drowning my sorrows in expensive liquor.
My phone rings in my pocket, and when I pull it out, Dad’s name flashes across the screen. I grumble, because I don’t want to pick it up. But if I ignore it, he’ll just keep calling. My father is not a man who takes being pushed off well.
“I’m sorry, hang on one second.” I hold up an apologetic finger to her and step out of the room.
It’s the worst time for him to be calling, but then again, Daniel Callahan waits for no man. Not even God or Santa Claus.
“Hello?”
“Walker, yes. I need you on the jet tonight, down to Florida. There is going to be a package filmed for SportsNews about the team, and you need to be our representing face. I’ll send a car in about half an hour.”
He doesn’t ask how I’m doing, or if I’m in the middle of something. Just assumes I’ll jump when he says how high, like I have so many times before.
“Actually, Dad, I’m busy. I can’t go tonight, or this week, in fact. I’ll have to talk to you later in the week.” My tone is brisk and final.
There is a beat, and I know it’s probably the first time I’ve ever left my father speechless. “You have an obligation to this ball club and to this family. You are the face of the franchise, and I need you to go down there, put on your big boy suit, and do the work you signed up for. The car will be there in half an hour.”
My temper flares. “And like I said, I am busy with an important matter. You’ll have to find someone else.”
“What is so important that you can’t go give an interview to bolster the reputation of your team?” Dad sounds so irritated, I think he must be shredding a piece of his hundred-dollar stationery in his home office.
“I have a person I care very deeply about over for dinner. I’m not going to cut it short, or fly out on some whim. She needs me, and this is where I want to be.”
An agitated breath comes through the other end of the phone. “Please tell me you’re not being as stupid as I think you are?”
“And how stupid would that be, Dad?” My response is petulant, but I can’t help it.
“If you’re seeing Shane Giraldi’s wife, after all we talked about and where your future is headed—”
I cut him off. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I am. And for my life, and my future, this is the absolute best thing. You may think you have my future all planned out, and that I’ll follow it to a T, like I have for almost thirty years up to this point. But I’m done with that now. It’s not selfish of me to put my own happiness first. Hell, Sinclair does it all the time and you let him get away with it. I’m still a Callahan, I still know my role, but I’m making room for my own priorities.”