sit there, silence stretching between us as regret clouds the air, tainting everything around us. The field seems dull, the dugout just an empty space that used to be full of memories, and even though there isn’t a cloud in sight, the stars don’t seem to be shining as bright as they usually do.
Gripping my hand tightly, he says, “Can I ask you something?” I glance up at him. “Do I have a chance at making things right with you? Of making you mine again?” A weight of a thousand anvils sits on top of my chest as I scramble for breath.
Making you mine . . .
Everything I wanted to hear the minute he walked away, and yet, my stomach rolls at the thought.
I honestly don’t know what to say. I know what my heart wants—he’s sitting in front of me—but my brain is reminding me of the pain and agony I endured because of this man, begging and pleading to whoever wanted to listen to encourage him to talk to me. This hesitation isn’t about me trying to hurt him either. I’m terrified. What we had was incredible, something I had no idea would exist for me. Yet in the hardest and darkest hours of his life, he didn’t want or need me. And that painful reality is what I don’t know what to do with.
He scoots closer and takes both of my hands in his. God, I’ve missed his touch. Holding firmly he says, “I understand what I’m asking of you, to consider giving me another chance when I broke our trust, ignored the extraordinary bond we had, and tarnished all the good times we once shared. But even during the time we were apart, I thought of you, Milly. I thought of you every goddamn day. I chastised myself for picturing your face before I went to bed, knowing I didn’t deserve that image. I berated my mind for always drawing an image of your beautiful face whenever I was in the cages. And with every night I had a weak moment and listened to your voicemails on replay, I punished myself the next day with arduous workouts in the weight room, trying to drill it into my brain to forget you.” He shakes his head as my pulse pounds so loud in my ears I can barely hear his voice. “But I could never shake you, no matter how hard I tried and with every day I ignored you, I hated myself even more, turning the darkest year of my life into a vicious cycle of self-hatred for not letting myself love you outwardly, but unconditionally loving you inwardly.”
He pauses, taking a deep breath as my mind spirals.
He loves me?
He couldn’t stop thinking about me?
Then why?
“Why?” I voice my thoughts out loud, my voice clogged with desperation. “Why did you keep your heart from mine?”
Facing me head-on, speaking straight to my soul, he says, “Because I was punishing myself. My dad died from working too hard. The stress of his life caught up to him, and it was because he made a promise to my mom to take care of me. It was a tough truth to face, and instead of being grateful for the life he provided for me, I set out on a mission to fulfill a promise I made him. I shut off everything around me, including you. In that moment, nothing could have pulled me out of the self-induced purgatory. By the time I finally blinked and allowed myself to breathe, I realized the damage I’d done, and I knew earning your trust back was going to be next to impossible, but I tried anyway.”
“The letters, the outreach, that was for me? For the facility.”
He winces. “Your brothers told you?” I nod. “It was the only way I could show you my love from afar. I knew what was important to you, and I wanted to make sure you were able to accomplish it. My letters were small, but it was all I had at the time. They had little impact compared to the reputation you built for yourself.”
“Why did you wait so long?”
“Because, it wasn’t an easy fix. Because I wanted you to establish yourself. Because I wanted to make sure even if you said no to me, you still felt my apology deep in your soul.” He glances at our connected hands and quietly asks, “Do you feel it, Milly? Even if you say no and move on, do you