The Dugout - Meghan Quinn Page 0,138

has to say. Shane has always thought Carson and I belonged together. He told me last night even throughout college, he could see it, the way I changed whenever Carson was around. He instilled a sense of confidence in me that Shane had never seen, and even though the breakup was harsh, Shane didn’t deny if he would have done the same thing.

Lips thinned and pressed together, I type him back.

Milly: I’m scared. I don’t have another heart for him to break. The one I have is barely being held together.

Shane: Then when you get down there, make sure he knows that. He’s making a grand gesture, Mills. He’s not here to break your heart, he’s here to mend it.

I suck in a harsh breath, willing the tears forming in my eyes to hold steady as I put my phone in my little backpack and then cling to the straps as if they’re my lifeline.

It’s time.

On a deep breath, I take a step forward just as the lights of the field turn off. In a blink of an eye, the field went from lit with hope to dark and desolate. I quickly make my way over the hill to get a better view. As my eyes adjust, I search out any dark figures moving around but don’t see anything. Carson’s car from college is still parked in front of the field, but no one’s inside.

I take a few more steps forward, scanning the dim area, looking for any signs of Carson. And that’s when I spot him, hunched over on the bench in the dugout . . . our dugout.

Defeat in his shoulders, fingers threaded through his hair, tension coiled in his back. Instead of closing the space between us, I take a moment to observe him, to watch his genuine reaction to me not showing up.

Disappointment.

Sorrow.

Failure.

Regret.

And oddly, I feel the same emotions when it comes to us, regret being the biggest one. I regret not pushing him harder, not flying to him, not forcing him to break out of the emotionless shell he put himself in.

With him sitting in front of me, the opportunity to talk hanging between us, I take another step forward and another, realizing I’m not going to put myself in another situation where I regret my actions. I’m terrified, but I also need to hear what he has to say.

I step up next to the gate and swing it open, startling him to his feet, but when his eyes focus on me, relief washes over him like a fresh morning wave. His entire demeanor changes. His tension and sorrow is replaced with excitement and hope.

Softly he says, “You came.”

Staring at the ground, his gaze almost too strong for me, I say, “I almost didn’t.”

“I can understand that. I was horrible to you. Honestly, I didn’t think you were going to come and that was something I was going to have to live with, but you’re here now.”

“Terrified, but I’m here.”

He takes my hand in his and guides me to the bench where we both straddle the metal seat. “Tell me why you’re terrified.”

We’re about a foot and a half apart, his hand is still connected to mine and for a moment, I stare at the threading of our fingers, how it feels so easy, like his hand is the one I should be holding for the rest of my life.

Shane’s encouragement pops into my head and on a scared exhale, I say, “You broke my heart, Carson. I gave it to you and without a backward glance, you broke it. And the recovery hasn’t been easy. I’m still trying to get over the hump of what you said to me, of how you pushed me away.”

He nods somberly. “I understand.”

“I’ve never felt for somebody the way I felt for you.” Feel for you still. “I took a chance and opened my heart to you and you threw it back at me.” A small tear careens down my cheek. “I just wanted to be there for you.”

“You were, Milly.” He tugs on my hand, encouraging me to look up. “You were there for me and even though I didn’t respond, your voice and your words helped me through the hardest time of my life, and I should have told you that. I should have acted like a man, confronted the demons eating me alive, and said something.” He shakes his head in disappointment. “I should have talked to you. I should never have pushed you away.”

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