He stopped moving and turned to face me, his expression incredulous. “And you think people won’t figure it out? You think the media won’t have a fucking field day with this? You think they’ll respect our privacy?”
“How would anyone find out? The only people who know you’re the biological father are my family, and I trust them.”
“April, use your head! This is a small town. You’re already the subject of speculation because of me. As soon as people realize you’re his birth mother, they’ll immediately start doing the math and guessing at who the father was. The timeline works. They know we were friends.” He pointed at the picture of Chip. “The kid looks exactly fucking like me. He’s a lefty pitcher. It’s not rocket science. It’s third grade shit.”
“What do you want me to do?” I cried, tears starting to fall. “I’ve worked so hard to get to this point, where I don’t feel ashamed of this. Knowing him is important to me, I don’t want to go backward!”
“I’m not saying you have to go backward,” he said defensively. “I’m saying that I can’t stay here. It’s for his own good—and for yours. I’ve already booked a flight out.”
“What? No! Tyler, don’t go.” Fighting tears, I went to him and placed my hands on his chest. “Let’s talk about this. I know you’re upset—I am too. But we can figure it out together.”
“There’s nothing to figure out. I’m leaving.”
“But . . . but what about your coaching job?”
His expression was grim. “I already blew it.”
“How?”
“I got into a fight with the asshole dad. I’m sure I’m already fired.”
“Can they do that? Just because of an argument?”
“It was more than an argument, April. I punched the guy. In a public place. Yet another embarrassment. I don’t even know why you’d want me to stay.”
I felt like I was in quicksand. “Don’t run away from this. We’ll get through it, Tyler. I don’t care what people say. Let them talk.”
“You think that now, but I promise you, it wears you down until you hate getting up in the morning.” He exhaled through his nose, jaw clenched tight. “And eventually you’ll hate me for it.”
“No, I won’t! Can’t we at least—”
“I’m sorry, April. This is all my fault.” With that, he shouldered by me and headed for the door.
I followed him on trembling legs. “So that’s it? You’re just going to leave?”
“I’ve got no choice.”
“But . . . what about us? What about all those things you imagined sharing with me? What about that life you envisioned?” Catching up with him, I grabbed his arm and yanked him around. “Don’t you feel something for me?”
He swallowed, his expression tortured. “You know I do,” he whispered. “I’ve never felt for anyone the things I feel for you.”
I shook his arm. “Then look at me, Tyler. Look me in the eye and admit you do have a choice, and you’re choosing to run away out of fear of what some stupid jerks will say. You’re choosing them over me.”
He shook his head, his eyes full of pain and longing. “I’m choosing to leave in order to spare you and Chip a lot of pain. I’m not who you think I am.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks. “You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have been seeing you all wrong. Because the man I see isn’t a coward. He’s not afraid to face whatever life throws at him. He’s braver and stronger and better than this.”
He struggled for words, his neck muscles taut. “I ruin everything, April. I don’t live up to expectations. I’m doing this to protect you.”
“Bullshit.” I let go of his arm. “You’re doing this to protect you—because you don’t think you deserve to be loved. You’re leaving because you don’t want me or Chip or anyone else to see the real, flawed, imperfect version of you. You think all you had to offer anyone was a million-dollar arm, and since that’s gone, you’ve got nothing to give. But you’re wrong.”
He was silent, his hands flexing.
“And you know what else? Never, not once in eighteen years, did I feel you had betrayed or abandoned me when I was pregnant. You had to go after the life you wanted, and I understood. I wasn’t part of it.” I lifted my chin. “This time is different.”
I saw his shoulders tense up, his jaw tic. For a moment, I thought he was going to take me in his arms, tell me I was right, kiss me and hold me and say he wasn’t leaving. Say he would stay and face his fears. Say he would forgive himself and stop caring about what other people would say, because he was falling for me, and this time was different—this time he wanted me in his life. This time he would stay.
But he didn’t. He turned away from me, opened the door, and stormed out, yanking it shut behind him.
Twenty-Two
Tyler
I left April’s with her words lodged in my chest like arrows.
How could she think I didn’t care for her or want her in my life? She was the best thing to happen to me in years. She’d made me laugh and smile and feel alive again. She’d given me hope.
But dammit—she didn’t understand! She had no idea what it was like to fail, to disappoint people who believed in you, to be forced day after day to confront the fact that this wasn’t the life I was promised.
And wouldn’t that be exactly what she said to me when she discovered the truth about me? That I wasn’t just flawed, I was defective? I wasn’t just imperfect, I was broken?
I drove straight from April’s to the airport, since I’d already gone to the hotel and packed up my bags after discovering the photo on her kitchen floor. My gut instinct had been to get the fuck out of this town fast, but once I’d booked a flight and checked out of my hotel, I realized I couldn’t do it. I owed her a goodbye, at least. Even though I’d known it would be gut-wrenching to tell her I was leaving, I wanted to see her one last time.
Maybe someday she wouldn’t hate me for it.
What happened wasn’t your fault, Virgil had said yesterday in the dugout—not that I believed him. But if it wasn’t, did that mean there was some other force working against me? Was it fate? The universe? God? Whatever it was, it was powerful enough that it had taken me down at the top of my game. It had beaten the unbeatable. Sunk the unsinkable. And it continued to work against me even now—the sleepless nights. The tireless media. The assholes in every corner bar and barber shop. I’d never be able to escape it. Why would she want to take that on?
And Chip. Jesus Christ. That poor kid had been through enough. There was no way I could handle him knowing who I was, and there was no way for me to act like everything was normal. I couldn’t face him. I didn’t want to. Staying out of his life had been the right decision the first time around, hadn’t it? That’s why leaving now was the right choice too.
But goddamn, it hurt like hell thinking I’d never see April smile at me again. Or hear her laugh. Or kiss her lips or smell her skin or put my hands in her hair. And I’d never forget the way she looked at me—like I’d ripped her heart out and crushed it—before I walked out the door.