“Good, then it looks like we’re headed to Chicago.”
“Fuck yes, we are!” We both laugh. “Ryot?”
“Yeah?” I answer.
“I’m really fucking proud of you. Have you told Nola yet?” he asks, referring to our sister.
“Not yet, but I will.”
“Okay, maybe we call her together while we pack. And then we can call Mom and Dad.”
“Sounds good. Meet you at the house in twenty.”
“On my way,” he answers, and then we hang up. I head back to the foosball table where Myla is waiting patiently. Wow, this could not have been worse timing.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, I, uh . . .” I scratch my chest. “I was called up.”
The cutest crinkle pulls at her nose as confusion crosses her expression. “Called up to where? The bar? Heaven?” She presses her hand to her chest. “Has your time come to go through the Pearly Gates?”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “No, called up to the Majors. I’m headed to Chicago . . . tonight.”
“Wow.” Her eyes widen. “Really? That’s amazing.” She moves around the table and wraps her arms around my waist, pulling me into a tight hug. “Congratulations, Bisley Balls.”
Caught off guard by her soft demeanor, I hug her back and say, “Thank you.” But she doesn’t let go. It’s a long hug, a comforting hug, and I’m seeing a side of her I didn’t think existed. She’s been so brash, so outspoken, and so sarcastic that I wasn’t aware there was a soft, caring side to her, and that’s exactly what I’m feeling at this moment.
When she finally lets me go and takes a step back, she puts her hands in her pockets and glances up at me. “I’m assuming you need to go.”
“Yeah. I have to pack and then head to the airport.”
“Well . . .” She smirks. “I guess that ends our game. I can walk away a proud woman, knowing I just beat a Major League baseball player.” With a wink, she walks away, but then she spins around and says, “See you around, Bisley Balls.”
And before I can say another word, she’s gone.
Chapter Five
RYOT
Present day . . .
“How are you doing?” Nola asks, her voice sounding choppy from the poor reception.
“Let me guess, Banner called you?” I ask.
“He did. He was worried about you. Said you haven’t been talking to him much. But don’t worry, I didn’t say anything to Mom and Dad.”
Thank God for that.
Nola lives just outside of Port Snow, Maine, in Bright Harbor, where we grew up. She moved back a few years ago after a difficult breakup with her long-term boyfriend. She decided to restore our old childhood home after Mom and Dad moved into a more manageable cottage. After marrying the first boy who ever broke her heart, she’s now living happily in her refurbished home with the love of her life.
Color me envious.
“So what’s going on with Myla?”
I walk over to my bedroom door and shut it so my voice doesn’t travel. “I don’t know, Nola. She’s dead set on divorcing me. We’re not even sleeping in the same goddamn room. She had the papers drawn up and everything.”
“Really?” she asks, sounding so sad.
Nola and Myla instantly connected the day they first met. Like long-lost sisters reuniting, they not only have so much in common, but they have a common goal to pick on Banner and me as much as humanly possible. Over the years, during holidays and vacations, they’ve had their fair share of jabs at us . . . and I’ve loved every goddamn second of it.
“Yeah, but I didn’t sign them. I can’t. Fuck, Nola, I can’t even muster the strength to pick up a pen. I don’t want a divorce. I love her.”
“I know you do. I’ve never seen you happier than when you are with her. What happened?”
“I don’t know.” I press my palm to my eye. “I’m still trying to figure that out. It doesn’t help that I’m so fucking mad that I could throw a chair through the wall at any given point.”
“That doesn’t sound healthy.”
“It’s not. I’m attempting to chill the hell out, but anytime I think about what’s going on, there’s this inner rage that I can’t seem to tamp down.”
“I guess that makes sense, though,” she says. “You were blindsided, and you love her. You’ve worked hard in this relationship. Seeing it all tumble apart can’t be easy.”
“It’s not,” I reply. “But I do have a plan.” Even if it might be a stupid plan, at least it’s something.
“A plan?”
“Yeah, Penn and Banner helped me figure it all out.”
“Penn and Banner?” she deadpans. “The two men who wouldn’t be able to have a steady relationship even if it smacked them in the head?”
“Yes, but it’s an idea. The only idea I have.”
“Uh-huh, let me hear it.”
I explain the plan to her, including my approach for the wedding week, and once I’m done, she doesn’t say anything. Not a word. To the point that I’m worried that she hung up or lost service.
“Hello? Nola, are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“So what do you think?” I roll back on my bed, pinching my brow, knowing exactly what she’s going to say.
“Well, if my silence wasn’t telling enough, I guess I have to say that’s the stupidest plan I think I’ve ever heard.”
Yeah, I know, but I’m also attached to the plan because it’s helping me breathe. It’s giving me minuscule hope.
“How so?” I ask, preparing myself for a lecture.
“For one, you’re only going to piss her off even more. She’s also already dead set on this divorce, so your mind trickery won’t do anything other than reinforce her decision. And if you think a week away in a romantic location will solve all of your problems, you really are freaking delusional.”
“Wow, tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m just trying to bring everything into perspective for you, Ryot.”
“Yeah, I get that, but Myla is so unreceptive to talking. I don’t know any other way to reach her.”
“But how have you approached her? Have you been angry?”
“Well, the night she told me, yeah, I was angry. How could I not be? And then the other night when I asked her to pretend to be my wife at the wedding, I was angry as well, but that’s because I’m so fucking . . . ugh, I’m pissed. I can’t seem to control it when I’m around her even though I need to.”
“I know. I can’t imagine what both of you are feeling right now.” Nola’s calming voice eases some of the tension I’ve been feeling, but only some. “So you already asked her to do the wedding thing? Honestly, Ryot, why didn’t you come to me in the beginning?”
“I don’t know. I was embarrassed,” I answer. “The last thing I want is to tell people that the love of my life wants to be rid of me. Doesn’t feel too great.”