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I followed the nurse into the examination room, finding Jarred with a swollen lip and black eye but otherwise looking alert after being knocked unconscious.
“I’ve been hit harder on the field,” he said by way of greeting, and the nurse left us alone in the room. “And they ruled out a concussion.”
“That’s good,” I said, sticking close to the door.
“You didn’t have to come check on me,” he said.
“I’m not here to check on you.”
“Oh,” he said. “Then what are you here for?”
I sighed. “After you broke my heart, I promised myself I’d never beg you for another thing in my life. I’d never beg anyone for anything in my life. But I’m breaking that promise to myself today.”
“I’m not following.”
“I’m here to beg you not to press charges against Ethan.”
Realization dawned on his features. “He’d deserve it.”
“Yeah,” I said. “And you would too, if I had ever decided to press charges against all the accidents you had around me.” Gripped arms, shoves against the wall a little too hard, holes in the same wall.
Jarred visibly swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“I get that,” I said. “I see that you mean it. And I really hope you mean it, really hope you’re changing, but I’m not going to be around to find out.”
“Fair,” he said. “I wasn’t going to press charges. I’m not really in the place to do that, but I will press charges if I have to.”
“What do you mean?”
He shifted off the small hospital bed, the thing creaking under his massive weight. “Does he act like that toward you? Hurt you?”
I gaped at him. “You’re joking.”
“I’m really not. Do I know I have absolutely zero right to ask that? Yep. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to. Not after what he did to my face. You know I never did anything like this to you. Not that it excuses the other mistakes I made,” he said, pointing to his face. He took a breath. “Does he do this to you?”
“You have some fucking nerve,” I said, shaking my head. “You and Ethan are nothing alike. Nothing. He’s never even raised his voice toward me, let alone physically hurt me.”
He studied me for a moment, and then nodded. “Good,” he said. “You don’t deserve to deal with anyone like me ever again. I know I fucked up with you. I’m sorry. I really am doing everything I can to fix myself.”
I blew out a breath. “Are you going to press charges?”
“No.”
“Thank you,” I said, shocking the hell out of myself that I could even offer him those words. “Do better, Jarred,” I said as I opened the door to the room. “I hope that for you. To just be better.”
“I will.”
I shut the door behind me, my nerves shot, my mind fraying at the edges. I had one more thing to settle before I faced Ethan, before I went to him and begged him to not push me away. Because I no doubt knew that’s what he was going to do—if not for some misplaced belief that I would be better off, then for his own desire to not be tempted to fly off the cuff to any man who paid me any sort of attention. Not that I thought he’d do that for anyone that wasn’t Jarred, but still.
Everything was an absolute mess.
Another text rang through once I got back to the waiting room, and my heart flew into my throat.
“All good?” Brynn asked.
“Yes,” I said. “He’s not going to press charges, and I have a call with the league commissioner and several of the other MLB owners in five minutes.”
“Holy shit,” Daisy said. “Deep breaths, babe.”
I nodded at them both, spending the entire five minutes trying like hell to get my shit together.
My phone rang, and I swiped to open the FaceTime call. “Thank you for taking my call so late, commissioner,” I said.
“I was told it was urgent,” he said, then motioned to the laptop screen in view beside him. A Zoom call was up with a dozen of the MLB owners' faces in little boxes filling out the screen.
Fuck me.
“I’ve seen the video,” he said before I could utter another word. “You have fifteen minutes to convince me not to expel him on the spot.”
My stomach dropped, but I didn’t dare let the dread show on my face.
“I only need ten.”
CHAPTER 19
Ethan
I’d lost my girl and my team in the span of ninety seconds.
How the fuck does that happen?
How the fuck could I ruin the two loves of my life so thoroughly in such a short amount of time?
I contemplated the questions while doing my best to resist the liquor cart that had been stationed in each of our suites in the hotel. I wanted to pour myself two fingers of whiskey, but I knew that wouldn’t fix the mess I’d created. It might numb the ache in my heart, but it would come roaring back once the alcohol burned off. Might as well skip that part and sit here in my misery like a proper pathetic person.
