“Is that right? And for how long is that going to be the case? Do you know anything about raising children? Who’s going to be there when you’re traveling all over the place and she’s taking care of that baby alone?”

“She has friends here, and so do I. There are other wives—”

“Other wives?” she screeches in my ear. “Oh my God, did you elope? Did you marry my daughter without even asking permission first?”

I can see now why Lainey ended up moving halfway across the country. “No, that’s not . . . I meant the other players’ wives. We didn’t elope. I’ve made a lot of mistakes with Lainey . . .”

“Oh, you think so?” Her sarcasm is on point.

“I should’ve told Lainey the truth about my job from the start. My life is complicated—and that’s not an excuse, but know that I never wanted to lose contact with Lainey. If I’m completely honest, I was gutted when I couldn’t reach her after I left Alaska, and when I found her again and realized what had happened, I was devastated all over again. I missed her entire pregnancy—I missed the birth of my son and the first four months of his life. I can’t go back in time and change how things happened, but I’m trying to make up for it. So I’m here, taking care of her the best I know how—which right now is to let her sleep so she can get well.”

She’s silent for a few long, drawn-out moments. “How’s Kody?”

“He’s asleep as well, for now. But as soon as Lainey wakes up, I can have her call you.”

“Yes. Okay. I’d like you to do that. But also, I’d like updates every couple of hours. When Lainey gets the flu, she can sometimes be down for days. She spikes high fevers. We had to take her to the hospital more than once when she was young. And make sure you keep Kody away from her until her fever breaks. She’ll want to feed him, but that’s too much of a risk. And you should make sure you have ginger ale and soda crackers for when she can stomach food again.”

“I have all those things. And I’ll definitely message with updates every couple of hours.”

“I just wish she was home so I can take care of her.”

I decide the best way to win them over is to offer them the opportunity to see her. “Would you like to come for a visit?”

“It’s a long drive.”

“I can arrange flights for you.”

“Oh . . . I don’t fly.” I can almost see her wringing her hands, like Lainey when she’s anxious. I see where it comes from now.

“You could do it for Lainey, though, couldn’t you? When was the last time you saw Kody?”

“Not since he was born . . . but the farm . . .”

“You have lots of help there, don’t you? Lainey would love to see you. And Kody’s sitting up now. You can think about it.”

“Let me just ask her father, see if he thinks it’s something we can do.” I wait while she has a muffled conversation with Lainey’s dad. “Okay. Yes. Simon thinks a visit is a good idea.”

“I’ll book your flights and arrange accommodations for you.”

“You don’t need to do that. Simon can take care of it.”

“Please, it would mean a lot to me if you’d let me handle it. I’ll just need information for the tickets and an email to forward them to.”

She hesitates for a minute but finally relents. I take down all the information I need, grab Lainey’s laptop, and bring up flights, finding the first one out tomorrow morning from Washington to Chicago. Once everything is booked, I forward the email.

I end the call and toss Lainey’s phone on the couch. I’m beat. I don’t know how Lainey has done this on her own all these months. And now I’ve invited her parents out for a visit. Winning over her mom is one thing, but her dad . . . well, let’s just hope I still have my balls by the time they leave.

CHAPTER 23

METTLE

Lainey

I wake up around one o’clock in the morning, breasts aching, but I don’t feel feverish anymore or like I’m going to throw up, which is a relief. Dry heaves are the worst.

I roll out of bed. Every muscle in my body hurts, like I tried to run a marathon or lift weights for several hours in a row. My stomach is raw and tender from all the throwing up.

I take a few tentative sips of water, cringing at how sore even my throat is. And my mouth tastes awful. I use the bathroom and brush my teeth, catching my reflection in the mirror. My hair is a wild mess, random strands having freed themselves from the braid.

I have dark circles under my eyes, and my skin is the color of paper. I consider going right back to bed, but I need to pump. Or feed Kody. I’m light-headed and weak, but at least the worst of the sickness seems to have passed.

I peek into Kody’s room and immediately go into panic mode when I don’t find him in his crib. I rush down the hall and come to an abrupt, dizzy stop. RJ’s huge body is sprawled out in the glider, my breastfeeding pillow secured around his waist, head lolled to the side, Kody cradled in his arms, both asleep. An empty bottle sits on the table beside them. They look so sweet together.

I sneak into the kitchen and try, as quietly as I can, to find my breast pump. It takes me less than fifteen minutes to fill two six-ounce bottles. Once I’m finished, I clean everything in the bathroom sink and also manage my own horrid appearance—although RJ’s seen me barf, twice, so I’m not sure why I feel the need. And unless I dreamed it, he cuddled with me and managed to get hard with me looking like yesterday’s strung-out lady of the night.

I change my pajamas and wipe myself down with a warm cloth, aware I’ve had the fever sweats for most of the night. The whole process is exhausting, and by the time I’m done I need to lie down again. Which of course means I also need to close my eyes. And fall asleep thinking about how I’m glad I made the choice to give RJ a second chance—and that he’s proving to be worth it.

I wake up at five thirty to the sound of a hungry baby. I throw off the covers and shrug into my fuzziest robe. If I’m quick enough, I can catch Kody before he’s fully awake, and often it means he’ll fall back asleep for another hour or so once he’s done feeding.

I’m still a little clammy and warm, and my entire body feels like I’ve been hit by a transport truck, but it’s a significant improvement over yesterday. The fact that my stomach rumbles is also a good sign.

I find RJ in the kitchen, Kody propped on one hip. His hair is all over the place—both boys—and since RJ slept in his clothes, he’s a wrinkled mess. There’s also a spit-up stain on his shoulder. And yet I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look as sexy as he does right now, in this moment. “Let’s see if there’s any more mommy milk in here, little man.”

“Morning.”

“Oh, hey. Sorry if we woke you up. How ya feeling?” He gives me a once-over. “You look better.”

“I feel better.” Kody lets out a shriek and lurches toward me. “I can take him.”

I hold out my arms, but RJ cups the back of his head protectively and turns his body slightly away from me. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Lainey. We don’t want him to catch what you had.”