Page 90 of Verdict

Scott.

Scott Fisher had been my agent for most of my career. My first agent had pulled some shady crap and cared more about his own commission than my future. Walker had referred me to Scott after that mess—his longtime guy. He was steady and honest. Best decision I ever made.

I swiped to answer. “Seriously, Scott? Why are you calling me this early?”

He laughed. “Sorry. I’m on the East Coast—forgot about the time difference.” His tone shifted. “Anyway, this couldn’t wait. Boston offered five years, one hundred and thirty-five million. Full no-trade clause. They’re serious. And they’re impatient.”

The sleep evaporated instantly. I was in free agency. I’d expected calls. I’d expected interest… but I wasn’t prepared for that.

Boston had knocked us out in the ALDS. Made a World Series run and fallen short. They were a top-tier organization—legacy, prestige, championship culture. This would be my last major contract. I planned to retire in five years and to go out on my terms.

“No shit?” I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

“They think you’re the solution,” Scott continued. “Shortstop is their weak spot. They see you as the difference-maker.”

Well damn. Way to make a guy feel wanted.

Boston wasn’t just a team. It was a statement. A place where careers leveled up, a place you cemented legacy. I loved playing for the Aviators. I loved this city. But Boston? Boston meant another ring. A real shot at it next season. With Walker gone and our pitching staff rebuilding, I wasn’t sure we had that same window. On paper, this deal was a no-brainer.

But as Scott rattled off details my mind drifted.

To Ava.

My home base wouldn’t be the apartment above hers anymore. It would be in a different state… two thousand miles away. But maybe the distance would finally loosen the chokehold she had on my heart. She’d made it clear at Christmas that friendship was what she wanted with me. She wanted stability and safety… and I respected that. Maybe the distance was the safest option for both of us. I wasn’t sure I could survive trying and failing with her. Not when failing meant losing her completely. As much as I wanted Ava, I wasn’t sure I could be the man she needed, the man she deserved.

Then my thoughts shifted to Ellie, my baby girl. The love I’d never seen coming. I wouldn’t be able to swing by daycare between workouts and breaks in practice. I wouldn’t catch her before bed on nights I flew home from a road series. I wouldn’t be there for the small, quiet moments. The ones that mattered just as much as the big ones. I’d miss things, I'd miss firsts.

But this contract would set her up for life. Generational security.

I cut Scott off. “Have the Aviators come to the table yet?”

“Not yet. I was going to notify them after I spoke with you. But, Cohen…” He hesitated. “You know Boston’s payroll flexibility. Don’t get your hopes up about a match.”

I scrubbed a hand across my jaw and exhaled slowly.

He isn’t wrong.

The Aviators were in a soft rebuild. Ownership might not want to commit five years at that number to a thirty-year-old shortstop, even if I was still in my prime.

“All right,” I said finally. “Let me know what they come back with. How long do I have?”

“They want a decision within a week. I’ll call the Aviators as soon as we hang up.”

“Thanks, Scott.”

“No problem. And Cohen?”

“Yeah?”

“This is a good thing.”

A year ago, it would’ve been. A great thing, actually. A dream move. The kind of offer you didn’t hesitate over.

But now? Now it felt like something else entirely… not an opportunity, but a choice.

And for the first time in my career, the smartest move felt like the riskiest.

After talking to Scott, I called Drake to see if he could meet up for a beer. I needed someone to talk to. When I got to the brewery we usually frequented, I found him already seated at a picnic table underneath a large oak. I sank down onto the bench seat across from him and he slid a beer across the table.