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“And when we do talk, all I hear is baseball. Baseball, baseball and more fucking baseball. I love sports too, Em, but there’s more to life than the Felons and Tucker Lloyd.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of Tucker’s name, and she was reminded of her reason for coming to see Simon in the first place. Now that she was able to process it, she became aware he was berating her in the middle of a hotel corridor for being a bad girlfriend.
She had the obvious solution for both their problems.
“I think we should break up,” she said, her tone flat.
Simon, it seemed, had been building up to say more, but his words sputtered and came to a full stop. “What?”
“I think we should break up,” she repeated.
“Because I said there was more to life than baseball?”
The timing of her words could have been better, evidently, but it didn’t matter. Now that she’d said them, there was no turning back.
“No. Because we don’t love each other anymore.”
Poor Cassandra, still standing in the door between them, was looking at the ceiling trying her darnedest not to draw attention to herself, but Emmy could tell from the flushed color of Cassandra’s neck and the sweat on her brow she was uncomfortable as hell. Who could blame her?
“Em…”
“Don’t try to disagree now. Not after your whole speech. You know it’s true, and it’s time we admitted it. My life isn’t in Chicago anymore, it’s here. And it isn’t fair for either of us to pretend that isn’t true. Maybe there is more to life than baseball, but right now my life is the Felons…and Tucker Lloyd… That’s my world.”
“After four years, that’s it? You’re picking a losing franchise over me?”
She pursed her lips, fixing him with a cool glare. “That’s not fair.”
“I feel like this is a conversation you guys should have had before Emmy moved,” Cassandra pointed out.
Maybe every breakup needed an awkward third-party mediator. It wasn’t like the situation was fun to begin with, so why not make it even more absurd?
“It’s over,” Emmy said. “And Cassandra’s right. I think we knew it was over when I left.”
Simon’s shoulders slumped. He was a competitive guy by nature, and Emmy suspected he would view the end of their relationship as a challenge he’d lost. “Are you sure?”
Emmy had to laugh. Both Simon and Cassandra were visibly startled by her outburst, taking a step backwards each.
“Considering your little rant not two minutes ago, I would have figured you’d be relieved.”
“Are you?”
She toyed with the strap on her purse, avoiding his gaze for as long as she could without being cruel. “A little bit.”
Simon braced his arm on the wall inside the doorway and looked from Emmy to Cassandra and back again. “This might be the strangest breakup I’ve ever been through.”
“It’s certainly the first time I’ve broken up with an audience.”
“It’s weird for me too, if that helps you guys at all,” Cassandra said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go?” she asked Simon.
“No. Stay,” Emmy replied before he had a chance. “I’m going. Simon, you deserve better, and if it isn’t with her, it’ll be someone else, but it’s not with me. You’re right, my relationship with the team was more important than my relationship with you, and you have every right to be mad at me about that. It wasn’t fair, and I’m sorry.”
“Thanks?” he said, obvious uncertainty turning the word from a statement into a question.
Emmy reached past Cassandra with the intent to hug Simon, but at the last moment she changed her mind. She extended her hand, and he took it. Exchanging a painfully forced handshake, they regarded each other, unsure how to proceed. They each dropped the other’s hand at the same time. She didn’t have anything at his house, nor he at hers. After almost four years, that was it. One pitiful handshake standing on the ugly carpet in a four-star hotel with one of Maxim’s Hot 100 standing in between them.
“Goodbye,” Emmy said, since see you later seemed inappropriate.
“Bye, Em.”
