While the guys are immersed in pre-season training drills and games, we decided to put together photo albums with the pictures we took that weekend. It’s way more work than I expected, but it’s fun, and it takes my mind off of things. I can tell when Randy had the camera. The focus is always on me.

Sunny groans and puts a hand on her belly. “He’s so active. It’s like he’s doing somersaults in there. Come feel.”

I move a disgruntled Wiener from my lap and scoot over to her on the floor, putting a hand on her belly. She lifts her top and moves my hand up. I stay still and wait until I feel the bump and then see the distinct outline of a limb, or something, move across her belly.

“That’s incredible. Do you think maybe he’ll come early?”

“Fingers crossed.”

The baby is due on the first official game day of the season, which is eight days away, and for which the team will not be in Chicago. Sunny’s biggest worry is that Miller will be halfway across the country when she goes into labor, and he’ll miss the birth. She has a home birth scheduled, with a midwife and everything. If Miller’s not around, I’ll be the one by her side when she delivers—and of course her mom is planning to come down the week before the baby’s due, just in case. Still, Sunny gets emotional at the thought of Miller not being here.

The front door opens, and Miller comes in, followed by Randy. Randy immediately pauses and surveys the scene: my cheek pressed up against Sunny’s bare tummy.

“Is someone moving around in there?” Miller kicks off his shoes and drops to his knees beside Sunny, scaring a sleeping Titan. She jumps out of the way and barks once. Miller puts his hand on Sunny’s belly and starts talking to her stomach.

They’re so cute. I look over to Randy. His hands are shoved in his pockets. He regards Miller and Sunny with an expression that’s the opposite of mine. He looks worried. When he catches me watching him, he gives me a small smile.

Things have been difficult since his dad left, as I figured they would be. The aftermath of Randall, Sr.’s, visit feels like a relationship setback and—compounded with the beginning-of-season jitters and his best friend becoming a father—has made things strained between us. No longer manifesting as possessiveness, Randy’s stress now means sex has been less frequent. He’s been pulling the tired card the past few days. I fully expect him to pull it tonight.

“Man, you gotta come feel this. It’s like a dance party in there.” Miller motions Randy over.

“Uhh…I’m good.”

Wiener waddles over to Randy and jumps up on his leg. He crouches and gives him a pat on the head, probably happy to have the distraction. After a minute of scratches, Randy makes a big show of stretching.

“You ready to go, luscious?”

“Sure. Let me just clean this up.” I motion to the mess on the floor.

Sunny waves me off. “Leave it. I’ll be back at it tomorrow afternoon anyway. Oh, and the next time you’re over, maybe we can pick your dress for the wedding.”

“Isn’t that, like, a year away?” I ask.

“My mom wants everything ordered as soon as possible.” She’s all smiles about this. Wedding preparations for Sunny and Miller are drastically different than they were for her brother. She’s letting the mothers take charge and enjoying the process.

“Right, yeah. You can never be too prepared.”

“She’s already looking into little tuxes for this one.” Sunny pats her belly.

I gather my purse and use Randy’s chest for balance as I put my shoes on. He helps me into the truck as usual, but doesn’t cop a feel or anything. My stomach starts to knot as we head home in silence.

“Was practice okay?”

“Yeah.” He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “It was fine.”

After another endless minute of silence I try again. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh?” He turns the radio down.

“You’re really quiet.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

I shove my hands between my thighs. I don’t know how to read his mood. This is harder than I thought it would be. “Oh. Okay.”

“My dad called today.”

“Oh? What did he say?” He promised he wouldn’t call Randy until he had himself sorted out.

“I didn’t talk to him. He left a message wishing me luck on the start of the season.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“I guess. Yeah.” He’s quiet for the rest of the ride. He cuts the engine when we pull into the driveway, but doesn’t make a move to get out of the truck.

“Randy?” I touch his shoulder.

He turns to look at me, his thumb at his mouth. “I think we need to talk.”

My stomach plummets from my throat to the floor, like we’ve dropped from the summit of a roller coaster. My body immediately feels numb, and my eyes well. All his tension makes sense now—the lack of sex, the quietness.

I raise my hand to my mouth as if that’s going to stop the question I have to ask. “Oh my God. Are you breaking up with me?”

I can’t get enough air. Mentally, I consider my options. I can stay with Sunny and Miller until the baby comes, but then what?

Randy’s brow furrows. “What?”

“You’re breaking up with me.” My tears spill over and land in my lap.

“What? No, no, no.” He releases his seatbelt, pushes the center console up—heedless of his phone and the change that spills all over the backseat—and slides over. Taking my face in his palms he kisses me, once, twice, a third time. “Shit, Lily, why would you think that?”

I hold on to his wrists and try to take a deep breath, but I can’t because now I’m really crying.

I seriously hate crying. So much.

I’ve been holding on to all this emotional stuff since his dad left, and now here it is.

“I don’t know. You said we needed to talk, and we’re in the truck, and you’ve been all quiet, and you haven’t really wanted me lately, a–and—” I suck in one of those horrible pitchy breaths. Shit. I’m losing it. It’s so girly.

“I don’t want you?”

“You said you were tired last night. And the night before that, and two days before that.”