"He will. But I don't just mean the baseball stuff. It seems like there's so much these young players have to learn—things that are crucial to their success but not necessarily taught on the field." He sighs, shrugging. "Or maybe that's just the dad in me."
"Well, even so—especially so—he's lucky." I place my hand on top of his, and it feels slightly strange being that we're not technically alone, but not wrong. "Because the dad in you does a pretty damn good job."
His jaw—and his grip on my knee—tightens as his throat moves up and down. "Thanks, I'm trying."
I smile, and a silence settles between us, charged with something so much stronger than want or desire.
"Hey," I murmur, and his eyes shoot to mine. "How are you feeling about your retirement? Have you thought about what you might want to do after?"
Liam lifts his chin, thinking. "Not really," he says. He sighs. "But I know I need to figure it out.”
My heart aches as I watch his face pale with worry. "Are you stressed about it?"
His eyes bounce back and forth between mine like he's deciding how to answer. "A little," he finally admits.
Without realizing it, I drift closer, that familiar pull between us stronger than ever. "Well, don't be," I say simply. "We'll figure it out."
"We?" he asks as one brow lifts and his mouth twists into a lazy grin.
I nudge his elbow with mine. "Yeah,we." He stills, all of his attention on me, and I feel it everywhere.
He inhales a slow, steady breath, glancing over his shoulder. He scans the entryway, then tugs me to him. "Come here," he whispers. He wraps his arms around me as I fold against him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
"How were things here?" he asks, his chin resting lightly on the top ofmy head. "Everything okay?"
"Ruthie was great. The game was everything."
"Oh, I've heard," he chuckles. "And you? How have you been?"
My argument with Jo replays in my mind—the countless unanswered texts and calls, the conversation in our group chat that she still hasn't responded to. My gut tells me something might be wrong, but for now, I push it down.
"Yeah… good," I say regardless of the truth.
Liam exhales his relief, his breath warm against me, and a sudden rush of reality hits me like a truck.
Here I am, curled against him, feeling safe—the same way I have so many times over these past few weeks, and I still can't be completely honest. That weight on my chest as I worry about my sister, the guilt and responsibility I feel whether I really should or not… I'm still carrying it all on my own.
And that's when it clicks.
I haven't told him.
I can be Jo's common sense and Ruthie's fill-in parent. I can even be what helps get Liam through this next big chapter if that's what he needs. Fixing, carrying, filling in—I know how to do all that.
But the thing I still don't know how to do—the thing I've never really learned, never really felt comfortable with—is letting someone see me when I'm the one that's struggling. Despite how good this feels, despite how far I swear I’ve come, I’m already doing what I always do.
Holding back the hardest parts.
"Tomorrow then?" Liam asks.
And he deserves that.
"Tess?"
Ruthie deserves that.
"Hmm?"
I pull back slightly, still reeling over my latest realization.
