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What?
Surely, she didn’t . . .
“You don’t mean that,” I said quietly.
Her stance in the doorway—folded arms, pursed lips, cold stare . . . What was she saying?
“I’m supposed to be a baseball player’s wife.” Not . . .it doesn’t matter. I love you, Drew.
I balled the sheets in my hand. Pain lanced through my shoulder.
I opened my mouth to speak, but words wouldn’t come. It didn’t matter anyway.
She was gone.
She’d turned on her heel and was gone.Vanished.
I could have torn every muscle. Fractured every bone.
But nothing could hurt like this.
Baseball—gone.
Erin—gone.
What was I supposed to do with my life now?
Why. Fucking. Me?
My two great loves . . . gone.
As I stared at the empty doorway, my heart shriveled into nothing.
Pain.
That was all that was left. It was all I could feel.
It would be what I’d always feel.
Chapter One
Drew
“What haveyou done to my apartment?”
I stopped as soon as I crossed the threshold, the scent of eucalyptus hitting me. It smelled just like the house I’d grown up in.
“Reminding you who you are.”
Mama tacked a photo on the refrigerator with—was that the magnet I’d made in fourth grade? The entire surface was littered with pictures and ticket stubs and mementos of a life it seemed as if I’d never lived. All the reminders in the world would never make me into the person she thought I was. I didn’t deserve her efforts.
How had she gotten in anyway?
And why would she bother?
Especially after what I’d done.
A quilt my nana on her side had made was draped across the back of her old sofa. The pink and blue flower-patterned cushions were as ugly now as they had been when I was a kid. Had this thing been in storage all this time? She’d died, hell, it had to have been a good fifteen, twenty years ago. Yet something about it immediately brought back memories of playing dominoes with her. She never let me win. The one time I’d beaten her, Easton and I had celebrated with ice cream.
