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Chance
“Just say it,” Danika pushed from the passenger seat.
She knew. She knew exactly what I was trying to do, but I was too afraid to admit it. Once I said the words out loud, I could never take them back. I’d never been in this position before—having a girlfriend I was in love with and didn’t want to lose but wouldn’t dream of taking anything away from her.
“I don’t want you to throw away your dreams for mine.”
“You already said that,” she snapped.
Oh, she was pissed, and it caught me off guard. I honestly hadn’t expected her to put up a fight.
“I just don’t see any other way. I’m going to keep falling for you, and I’m going to want you with me twenty-four/seven, Danika. I’ll have to move, and I’ll want you to come with me. I can’t ask you to give up your career and follow me around the country. And I also can’t live long distance forever. Take your emotions out of it, and you’ll see that what I’m saying is true.”
“I’m a girl. I can’t do that. I’m built on emotions.” She sounded so defeated, and I hated that I was the reason for it.
“But you know I’m right.”
“No,” she said, still being stubborn as her eyes met mine and held, like she was begging me to challenge her.
I swallowed, carefully measuring my next words. “My career doesn’t really breed partnership. It breeds sacrifice ... from you.”
She exhaled long and loud. “Why do we have to figure this all out right now?”
“Because every day that you’re a part of my life, I’m finding it really damn hard to see the rest of it without you in it.”
“That’s usually a good thing.” Her hand reached for mine, and she intertwined our fingers.
I knew that, yes, finding your forever person was typically a positive, but this didn’t feel like that. This felt selfish on my end. And I didn’t want to be that for her.
“Chance,” she said quietly, and I looked at her, my heart aching inside my chest, “I know that having a relationship with someone in your situation is possible. People do it all the time.”
I nodded in agreement. “They do. But the girls don’t usually have their own careers,” I said before thinking about Cole and Christina. Christina seemed like an exception, running her own social media management company that could be done from anywhere. “I mean, mostly, they do charitable work with the team and social media influencing, but you have a family business to think of. A business that’s only in New York. It’s a little different.”
“Well, how did your parents do it? Your mom had a successful career of her own.”
I’d known that was coming. That she would bring up my parents and the fact that they were still together and in love and my mom had done well for herself.
“Yeah, but she freelanced and called her own shots. And when she did work for someone else, she gave it up because being with my dad was more important to her than being away from him all the time.”
She sucked in a breath. “I didn’t know that. I’d just assumed they’d made it work.”
“They did. But it took a lot to get there. My mom fought for her independence. And then she gave it up. But she got it back again after my dad retired. Their relationship was a lot of give and take, but it was scheduled around my dad’s career. You get what I’m saying?” I was trying to let her know that baseball always came first, and there was really no way around that without quitting the game.
Danika closed her eyes and rubbed them. “Look, I know you’re trying to break up with me right now. But I’m not going to let you,” she said with some kind of mustered confidence, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’re not going to let me?”
“No. And I’m not getting out of this car until we’ve worked this out.” She folded her arms across her chest to amplify her stubbornness.
“What do you suggest? How the hell do we ‘work this out’?” I asked, using finger quotes around the last part.
She stayed quiet, and I assumed she was thinking. I really didn’t know what to do. I’d thought that letting her go was doing the right thing by her, but now, I wasn’t so sure.
Did I jump to conclusions and decide too fast, all because of what Jared said to me?
No, I knew it wasn’t only because of him and his words. My mom had raised me to respect the fact that the girl in my life would want independence and something to call her own. She’d told me that I couldn’t expect anyone to support my dreams if I wasn’t willing to support theirs in return. And that true partnership was built on mutual respect and communication.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked, breaking my inner monologue.
“I was just convincing myself that this was the right thing to do.”
“Which part?”
I gave her a soft smile. “The part where we deal with this now instead of putting it off until later when it would be a million times harder to try and figure out.”
“Yeah. I hate that you’re right, but here’s what I’m thinking.” Her voice settled and grew steady, and I knew she was moving out of an emotional state of mind and into a more logical one. “I can’t make any decisions about this without all the facts. But the one thing I will say is that you don’t get to decide for me. Do you hear me?” She reached across the truck and poked me in the shoulder. “You don’t get to choose what I do with my life. It’s not only up to you, and it’s not fair.”
I pulled my eyes together, noticing the way that she looked at me, so serious and determined. Damn, she was beautiful. And smart. I wanted to take it all back, pull her from the passenger seat and onto my lap, where she belonged, and kiss her until she saw stars.
Nodding, I apologized because she was right. In trying to do the right thing, I had taken her choice from her, figuring that I knew what was best.
“So ... first question,” she started. “Do you even want to be with me? I mean, do you want this to work, or are you just looking for a way out?”
Jesus. She thinks I don’t want to be with her?
I scoffed, practically choking on the air around me, “I want you so damn much that I can’t bear the thought of doing anything to hurt you. Thinking about you resenting me somewhere down the line because of my job fucking kills me. I want you. But I don’t want you to give up everything in order to be with me.”
Her eyes started to well up, and I watched as she sucked in a breath and looked away, trying to regain her composure.
“Good answer,” she turned to face me, her voice cracking as a single tear fell.
“Don’t cry.” I wiped away the lone tear from her cheek, and she closed her eyes the second my hand touched her skin.
“I’m not.” She breathed in and out a few more times, her eyes still closed, and I wondered what kind of pep talk she was giving herself and not sharing with me. “I don’t want us to end,” she admitted before adjusting her position and scooting up straighter, her long, dark hair spilling all around her shoulders.
“I don’t either.”
“It shouldn’t be this hard to stay together.”
“I know,” I agreed because it seemed really fucking unfair. Instead of focusing on that, I nudged her back on topic. “You said you wanted all the facts before you decided. So, what do you want to know?”
“Everything.” She shrugged.
I nodded and let out a short chuckle. “Okay. It might be easier if you asked questions.”
“I’m not really sure what to ask. I mean, you’re the one who’s so convinced we can’t stay together. Why don’t you tell me why?”
Damn. She’d put me on the spot, and I deserved it.
“It’s like I said that one night at dinner. My entire life will revolve around the game. We basically play nine months out of the year. Longer, if we make it into the playoffs. And pitchers and catchers report before everyone else for spring training. Baseball will be my priority. It’ll be my job. I’ll have three to four days off a month. A month, Danika. And sometimes, we’ll spend that day traveling, so it’s not really a day off at all.”
Her mouth had fallen open by this point, and she looked at me like everything I had said sounded crazy. “When does the season start?”
“For me, in February.”
“Right, ’cause you’re a catcher. And you report first,” she said, repeating facts back to me and storing them in her head for later, I assumed. “And when does it end?”
“October, depending on playoffs.”
I watched as she counted the months on her fingers, stopping at nine, just like I’d said. “What happens between October and February? You have all those months off to do whatever you want?”
“Technically, yes. It’s called the off-season. But I still have to stay in shape and work out and hit during that time. My head will still be in baseball mode even though I’m not playing.”
She swallowed. “But you can go on vacation during those months? And you would be around for Thanksgiving and Christmas?”
“Vacations, yes. And I would be around for those holidays. New Year’s too. But that’s it. I’d miss the rest. Your birthday. Our anniversary. Any celebrations with friends.”
“And what about when you travel during the season? How many games are away?”
“Anywhere from ten to seventeen usually.”
“So, almost half the month.” She sounded sad, and it killed me. But she needed to know the reality of what I was signing up for.
“Yeah.”
“What else?” she said point-blank. “What else is there? Groupies? Girls hitting on you?”
“Always. But you’d never have to worry about that,” I tried to reassure her, knowing that I was not the kind of guy to fuck around, and that wasn’t changing anytime soon.
I’d learned a lot from my parents’ relationship, and that was one thing I never wanted to go through. They had told me how devastating it was, from both of their perspectives, and it had always stuck with me.
She smiled, and it lit up the whole fucking truck. “I don’t even worry about that now, and I probably should.”
I reached out and touched her hand. “No, you shouldn’t. After everything my parents went through, I’d never put you through that.”
Her face pulled together in confusion. “Your dad cheated on your mom?”
I nodded. “It’s a long story.”
“I would have never guessed that. Not ever. They’re so in love.”
“I know. They recovered nicely,” I said with a grin.
“They did. Okay, so one, you’ll never be home.” She put up a single finger before adding another. “Two, you’ll miss a bunch of shit. And three, girls will hit on you constantly. What else am I missing?”
“This is serious, Danika. You can list things off like they’re not a big deal, but when it’s your life every single day, it’s not the same. Shit gets old. Your life will revolve around my schedule. You’ll get sick of it. Me always being gone. And if I have a bad game or I’m in a hitting slump, I might be a dick to you. I won’t mean to be, but my performance on the field will affect everything else. And if I get traded, I’ll have to leave immediately. There are no guarantees or stability. My life will not be my own. And yours wouldn’t be either.” I hadn’t meant to raise my voice, but it was essential that Danika understood the magnitude of what I was telling her.
Being with a professional athlete definitely had its perks, but it still wasn’t easy. My mom had always reminded me, growing up, that it took a certain kind of girl to handle that lifestyle. Danika could, I knew that, but that didn’t mean she wanted to.
She brushed her hair behind her ear and pulled on the lobe.
“It’s a lot to take in,” she finally admitted, and I was both relieved and irritated.
She was giving me exactly what I’d pushed her for—understanding. But now that I’d dumped all the facts into her lap, I realized that I wanted to hear her say that they didn’t matter, that nothing mattered more than us figuring it out and being together. I was being a complete fucking hypocrite, and I knew it. But knowing that still didn’t change the way I felt.
“It is. I know. You should take some time to think about if it’s what you want or not,” I told her even though I hated thinking about giving her up.
Each time my instincts to fight for her flared to life, I tamped them down, reminding myself that having her hate me somewhere down the road wouldn’t be worth it. If she chose me and chose us, it had to be her decision, and she had to be okay, knowing all that she’d be giving up for it. I was basically asking her to choose this lifestyle or walk away from us altogether.
“For someone who’s never had a girlfriend before, you’re pretty good at being a boyfriend.”
I coughed and slapped my chest. “I didn’t say I’d never had a girlfriend before.” Her head reared back in surprise, and I answered before she could ask, “It was in high school. I haven’t had one since.”
“Oh. Yeah, of course. Anyway ...” She waved it off like we didn’t need to even discuss that again. “I need you to know that I do want to be with you, but you’ve given me a lot to think about and consider. I think taking some time to figure it all out would be best,” she said, and I felt my heart deflate inside my chest like a balloon losing its air.
“No matter what you decide, I’ll understand,” I said even though I wanted to fucking puke after saying the words.
Thinking about my life without her now that I had her in it felt impossible. How that shit worked, I’d never understand. I’d been perfectly fine without Danika for years, never feeling incomplete or like I was missing any part of me. But after having her, all that had changed. If she left me, I’d understand, of course, but I’d never fully be okay again. Parts of me would always be missing. And she’d walk around, holding them and not even know.
“Thank you. And thank you for being up front and honest about all of this even though it totally sucks and I hate it.” She was thanking me for basically handing her the scissors to sever the ties between us. One cut was all it would take, and she held all the power.
“Yep. Take all the time you need, by the way. I’m not going anywhere.” I didn’t want her to feel rushed or worried. Like there was some sort of time limit on this decision. While she was weighing all of her options, I’d be one hundred percent focused on baseball and making sure a game like I’d played today never happened again. “But before you get out of my truck ...” I leaned toward her, reached for the back of her neck, and pulled her against me like it might be the last time I ever got to.
My tongue entered her mouth, and she breathed into me, a moan combined with a whimper. My dick instantly hardened. This girl affected me like no other ever had. I wanted to tell her that I was falling in love with her ... hell, that I loved her already, but I refused to fuck with her head like that. I focused on the taste of her tongue instead, sucking and nipping at it as her fingernails dug into my shoulders like she was afraid to let go. We were two people, frenzied, unsure of what tomorrow would bring and choosing to live for the moment, taking everything that the other gave. And I gave her my all.
I’d give her anything she wanted, today, tomorrow, and forever, if she’d let me. I wondered if she knew that, and somewhere deep down, I knew that she did, even without me saying it. I really fucking hoped that my girl would choose me in the end because knowing that she would eventually move on and end up with someone else would be like breathing in dirt instead of oxygen for the rest of my life. A constant reminder of my loss, filled with pain and grit, all while slowly suffocating me. It sounded like a shit way to go.
