It's weird.

"So what now?" I ask, confused by the entire conversation. "Do we shake hands and become best friends?"

"Not if I can help it." He chuckles this time and eyes the money on my couch. "Your loot?"

"Yeah. I was planning on paying you back once I got my ass off the couch."

He nods. "Looks like I don't have to feel guilty about firing you then."

"You're firing me?" I ask, not really too surprised.

"Yeah, I don't put up with no calls, no-shows at my restaurant, and I sure as hell don't partake in nepotism. Your shit is outside your apartment door in a brown box along with your last paycheck."

Like a crushing blow to my chest, I sit on the couch and try to think about what the hell I'm going to do now. Yeah, I have twenty thousand dollars sitting on my couch but that isn't all mine.

"Listen. This is your defining moment, a crossroads where you can decide to follow in your father's footsteps, or finally take what I've instilled in you and make something of yourself. That money you owe me, it's a wash. You owe me nothing but a chance for me to see you actually do something with your life. I don't know if I've earned this, but I want you to make me proud. Take that money and create your freedom."

I rub my forehead, not quite sure I can comprehend everything. Find my freedom. I've been wanting to do that ever since I picked up a kitchen knife, but I've felt stifled by the man who's now setting me free. And now that I have it, I have no clue which way to go because the one thing I desperately want is no longer in the picture.

HOLLYN.

"Wow, look at that cactus." Daisy's face is plastered to the Uber car window while the driver shoots off facts about Arizona. Did you know the official state necklace of Arizona is the bolo tie? Yeah, neither did I. But I do now.

Things I also learned while on this trip: Daisy lost her virginity to Carter the night before they broke up.

Carter is the epitome of every male with commitment-phobia.

And I don't want to be here.

Spending time with someone who's never traveled outside the city they live in can put a new perspective on how you see things.

And no matter how many times I tell myself I'm going to have fun today, waves of nausea continue to hit me hard.

"Thanks for inviting me, Hollyn. Getting away was just what I needed."

I can't help but ask. "No word from him?" She shakes her head, her once semi-happy mood vanished by one simple question. Good job, Hollyn. I guess misery loves company. "No one has seen him at the restaurant. He hasn't come in."

"And he didn't show up at the meeting. Do you think he's okay?"

Now she's worried. I'm a really good friend.

"If I know Carter like I think I do, I would put a very large bet on him drowning his sorrows."

"I don't like that," Daisy states and then looks out the window some more. "I don't like that at all. It seems like a giant waste of time and extremely pointless. What does that kind of drinking do for anyone?"

"It helps them forget," I say absentmindedly. "Sometimes, as humans, we don't know how to handle the loops of the roller coaster life takes us on, so we silently turn to our vices for support; drinking, drugs, binge eating. There is no physical reason to do so, no actual justification for our actions, besides wanting to temporarily dull the ache within our bruised and brittle souls."

"Is that what you did when you lost Eric? Did you drink?"

A sardonic laugh pops out of me, my eyes transfixed on the stadium up ahead. "Yeah, I drank. I drank a lot, Daisy. I drank so much that I had to get my stomach pumped one night. My mom and Amanda spent months taking care of me, making sure I went to work and then picking me up after, watching my every move so I didn't drop everything and let my life disappear from my weak grasp." Damn it. Why do I always feel so ill when I talk about this? "Pain comes in all shapes and sizes and affects us differently."

"Do you want to be dropped off at the front? Or is there a special entrance you need to be brought to since you're Mr. Barnes's friends?" Sandy, the Uber driver asks.

Somberly, I answer, "The front is fine. Thank you, Sandy."

I gather my purse and wait for the car to come to a stop. After we thank Sandy and step out of her Ford Explorer, I'm hit with sounds and smells of a sporting event. Rowdy fans, food vendors, excited children, and stadium staff milling about, all gearing up for the nine innings waiting behind the brick and stone walls.

Silently and stiffly, I make my way toward "Will Call" hoping Daisy is following closely behind. I go through the motions of getting our tickets, going through the gates, and finding our seats on field level, right next to the dugout. On the field, the grounds crew meticulously line the grass and dirt, players carefully stretch and warm up, and the fans beg and plead for an autograph. Not far from the dugout, Jace is talking with one of his coaches, holding his glove at his hip and pulling on the brim of his hat.

Until this moment, it's never really soaked in that Jace plays baseball professionally. I know Jace outside the ballpark and now, seeing him dressed in his uniform, looking confident and in his element, it reminds me of someone else.

Eric.

The way he holds himself.

The way his hat sits low on his brow.

The way he jokes around while tossing a ball.

I'm transported, my senses on overload, my memory blackening everything around me.

There is it, Eric's smirk, the first thing that captured me about the man. Standing across from me, tossing a football. His swagger so sexy. His smell so intoxicating. That deep voice of his calling my name.

Hollyn. Hollyn. Hollyn.

"Hey, Hollyn. Are you okay?" Daisy shakes my arm. "I'm sorry if I was rude back in the Uber. Is everything all right? You look like a ghost right now."

My eyes are trained on Jace's, his eyes now fixated on mine, a concerned look on his face. Right now, I can choose two options, fight or flight. With memories clogging my throat, I only have one option.

I'm not ready.

I can't do this.

It's too soon.

"Hollyn, where are you going?" Daisy calls out.

I don't stop. I flee. Even when I bump into someone holding a tray of nachos, I keep retreating to the past, leaving my future in my tumultuous wake.

JACE.

"Three errors and two strike outs. Not your best showing tonight, Jace."

Reporters hover around my locker, microphones crowding me, camera lights brightly flashing in my face, my coach walking by, giving me a knowing look. Fuck, yeah, I would say it wasn't my best showing at all.

"Just working out the kinks, I'll be ready by the season opener." I give them the generic response.

I'm not about to spill my guts to these media leeches that the woman I wanted sitting in the stands, supporting me, took off before the first pitch was even thrown. I'm not about to tell them that deep in my soul, I know I've fallen for a woman I won't ever be able to have because she will forever be undeniably in love with her late husband. No matter how hard I try, how much I support her, there will be no action, no words that will cause her to change. Even if your heart rests in their hands, there's no use trying to help someone move on when they don't want to.

And fuck did she just grab it without warning.

"Can we count on another rookie-of-the-year-type season from you?" one of the reporters asks.

I towel off my head and hang the terrycloth over my shoulders as I answer. "I can't make any predictions about what's to come this season. All I know is my training regimen, my connection with my team, and my mental game has all stepped up this year."

The mental game part is a drastic lie, but they don't have to know that.

"You say your mental game is intact," a reporter says off to the side. Of course they would pick up on that. "Could you tell us if giving your baby up for adoption is going to affect that?"

The fuck?

Searching the crowd for the person who asked the question, I say, "Where the fuck did you get that information?"

A man off to the right looks around, nervous from the venom spitting out of me. "Uh, I have sources."

Plowing through the reporters, I grip the man by the collar of his shirt and seethe at him. "What fucking sources?"

"Jace." Coach comes running toward me and pulls me away from the reporter who adjusts his tie and smirks at me.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," the reporter assumes.

"Get him the fuck out of here," I shout, being carried off by my coach and a few players now.

"Barnes, shut your damn mouth and get in my office now."

Not my best day, my best showing, or my best temperament.

Another fine from the front office, a threat of sending me back down to the minors, and two hours later, I'm pulling my duffel bag out of my car and walking up to my apartment. If I wasn't going through a living nightmare, the threats my coach sent my way would most likely take action. He doesn't put up with much. This entire day wasn't how I planned it. I wasn't expecting to play like shit, almost plow a member of the press through the locker room wall, and go home alone. And yet, all those things happened tonight.

The walkway to my apartment is dark, but when I reach my front door, a familiar figure sits at my door.

Hollyn.

Curled up, her legs tucked under, and her hair draping around her face, she looks defeated. She can't stick around for the game but she can come to my temporary apartment after. I want to be the man she needs, the one who's going to hug her and be understanding, but that man is nowhere to be found right now. Instead, I'm a volatile and angry man with the need to get drunk.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, looking for my house key. "Where's Daisy?"

From my voice, she stands abruptly. Carefully, she tucks her hair behind her ear and shifts in place.

"She's taken care of, don't worry." She takes a deep breath. "I want to apologize."

"For what, Hollyn? For giving me the feeling that you actually might want to move on? That maybe, there is a shred of hope for a relationship between us, that maybe, just maybe you might be falling for me like I've fallen so fucking hard for you?"

"Jace . . ." Her trembling chin briefly pulls my attention away from being mad, but only briefly.

"Why did you leave, Hollyn?"

Watery eyes meet mine. "It was too much."

"Yeah, well, that's life for you, Hollyn." Frustrated, I grab the back of my neck and look down at her. "Life isn't some walk in the park where you can make wishes on dandelions. Life is work. Life is a journey of triumphs and sorrows. Of successes and failures. Of learning experiences and growing opportunities. You can't sit back and expect different results when you're not doing anything to change."

"I'm trying," she cries.

"You say you're trying, Hollyn. But those are just empty words now." Closing the distance between us, I point to her chest and say, "In order to grow, you have to try from here." I touch her heart and then her head. "And here. You can't just outwardly try, you have to dig deep inside of you and actually want to try. You have to want to make a change. You have to want to let go. From where I stand, I don't see you actually wanting to let go. And hey, it's my fault for trying to push you when you weren't ready. I take the blame. But I can't journey on this ride anymore. If today isn't an example of that, I don't know what is."

"You aren't exactly letting go either, Jace," she counters, her chin lifting as she speaks. "You speak of change, of making a difference in our lives, but you still haven't gone to visit Hope despite the open invitations from June and Alex. You can't even talk about her. You can't talk to me about changing your life when you're just as stagnant as me."

"Don't." I shake my head. "Don't turn this on me."

"Why the hell not? We've been in this together since the very beginning. Be honest, right, Jace? Isn't that the motto our relationship was based upon? Well, this is me being honest. You're not growing either. Every day, you dive farther and farther into a sorrowful, self-pitying hole. If you were truly interested in making a difference, you would."

"Not to be a dick, Hollyn, but I just recently gave up my baby. You've been grieving for almost two years."

Stepping back, she folds her arms over her chest. "Not to be a dick? Well, newsflash, that's a dick thing to say. Fuck you for judging me on my grieving process. You chose to give up your daughter, I had no choice in the matter when Eric was taken away from me."

"I didn't want to give her up," I shout, probably waking every single one of my neighbors. "You don't think that was the hardest decision of my life?"

Sighing, she relaxes her arms, her face turning sincere. "I know it was hard, Jace. I'm sorry."

"Christ." Defeated, I sink down on the ground, my back to the wall. Hollyn joins me. "And here we're supposed to be working on our acceptance. Pretty sure we're both still back at step one. Grieving." I take her hand in mine and kiss the back of it before placing it back on her lap. "We can't do this together anymore."

"What?" Her head whips toward mine. "Jace, this is just a little fight. We're each other's support system." Are we? Or perhaps that's actually all we will ever be. She's in love with someone else and probably won't ever love me. I had wanted more, but I can't keep sustaining this level of pain from so many directions. I'm better off alone.

"And I will be cheering for you from the sidelines, but we can't be involved anymore. We're tearing each other down more than lifting each other up. I'm looking for a relationship you're not ready for, and your reluctance is shredding me each and every day. We're toxic for each other right now, Hollyn. It's not healthy."

"You can't leave me, Jace. I can't do this."

Turning toward her, I cup her cheek in my large palm and run my thumb under her eye, catching a tear. "You're stronger than you think, Hollyn. This is on you. You control the outcome of your future, no one else. Take the strength you've harvested over the last few months, gather the fire you've been burned by, and turn it into something more. Prove your existence, Hollyn."

Standing, I pull her up with me. Leaning forward, I press a kiss against her cheek, take in her scent one last time and then pull away. "Know I'm your biggest fucking cheerleader right now, but from a distance. Find acceptance for your past, keep Eric close by, but don't let him hold you back from your future." Looking her in the eyes, I soak her in one last moment, knowing we will probably never speak again. "God, I love you, Hollyn. I'm just sorry our timing was off." A sad smile passes my lips. "Maybe in another lifetime."

One last time I press my lips against hers, vowing this is the moment that will change the course of the rest of my life. She's right. I'm stagnant. I'm scared. I'm making no movements to change. But that's over.

Fuck, yes, losing her has affected my game. It's affected every part of my life. But I need to be Hope's guardian angel. I need to make sure she gets what's best for her, because she deserves the best life. She deserves the best of me, and that's what she is going to get. It's time to move forward. It's time to prove my existence.

DAISY.

"More tea?"

"Sure." With shaky, weathered hands, Grams pours me another cup and then hands me the milk and sugar. "Thanks, Grams."

"Of course." She bites into another one of the snickerdoodle cookies I made. "You really have become such a good baker. These are delightful."

"I learned from the best."

"Oh, dearie." She waves a hand in front of her face. "You flatter me." Taking another bite, she finally says, "What brought you over here in such a sour mood? You're usually smiling and talking me up about the latest fabric you found in the discount bin."

"Hasn't been the best week." That is perhaps an understatement. I feel like the new relationships I was forming have all crumbled. I called Hollyn several times after she ran from the stadium, but she didn't answer my calls until later, letting me know she was okay. The look of disappointment and hurt on Jace's face was one I hope I never see again. He looked even more broken than the first day we met.