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"You don't?"

"No," she shoots back. "I mean… yes. No—like that's not what I meant. And yes like…" She shakes her head, frazzled. "Yes. I want to do this."

A slow breath leaves my chest. "Then we stop worrying about three weeks from now," I say. "And just…"

Every past part of me screams to stop talking. The hurt I felt before. The pain.

The anger, frustration, and straight-up resentment bang in my mind like warning signs.

But I don't listen.

Lenny might have been my first heartbreak. But she was also my first love—my only love. And I've survived losing her before.

I just don't want to spend the rest of my life surviving.

At least not while she's still here.

"Let's just enjoy the time we do have."

Lenny sighs. "That's easier said than done."

"Yeah," I agree. I take her face in both hands and pull her to me. "But it's a hell of a lot easier than pretending I don't still want you."

She presses forward, kissing me. Not with need or desire. With something closer to… peace.

"I still want you too, Jace. I always have. And if three weeks is all we get then… I'll make every second count."

I brush my thumb past her chin and sink back into the hard plastic behind me. Lenny lingers there, watching me for a second, before doing the same.

I wrap my arm back around her and pull her in close.

"I think we're crazy," she says seriously before letting a laugh slip past her lips.

I scratch the back of my head. "Stupid, maybe."

She nods. "Yeah. Definitely stupid."

My eyes wander back to my spot on the field. Those few feet tucked between first and second that's become like home to me.

I'm so comfortable there. So… myself. But it hasn't been without its challenges.

The early mornings, late nights. Hating myself after a ball I missed or an out I couldn't quite make. The highs, the lows. The rollercoaster of questioning everything—my plan, my purpose. My future.

And one day, that'll all come to an end. I'll retire, and my heart will feel like a piece of it is missing for the rest of my life.

But that's no reason to not enjoy the game.

It hits me how that's the same thing that happened with Lenny. My two first loves. And although there's been a her-sized hole in my chest since things ended, there was still so much good before it. And now there's a chance to have that good again.

To feel like I'm home tucked against her. To be content in love. To feel like a version of myself I've missed all these years.

And yeah… she's leaving. And we have a ticking clock against us.

But the best things usually do.

"So… you're happy?" she murmurs, her eyes stuck on the field.

I peer down at the top of her head, the side of her face—the little piece of her I get. "Very."