3. Sorry, I Ghosted You

THREE

SORRY, I GHOSTED YOU

Garrett

Over the next hour, our mom plays mediator as Tony and Georgia tell me all about how they met and how Tony swept her off her feet. I'm hard-pressed to believe he has the capabilities to woo anyone, but to each their own. Georgia animatedly describes the wedding from the colors to the decor while Tony scrolls on his phone as if he'd rather be anywhere but here. Same, but I'm also not going to be an asshole about it either.

After they leave, my mom turns to me. "How have you been? And don't give me any of that ‘I'm fine' crap."

I laugh. Leave it to Mom to not sugarcoat anything. "Of course, I've been better. When an entire city hates you, it's hard to walk around with a smile on your face." I don't mention my only saving grace is the possibility of seeing Dessa. She'd spend the rest of the afternoon fixated on our relationship, or lack thereof.

Her hand rests on mine. "You're an amazing baseball player. Everyone will soon forget all about it."

"Soon" can knock on my door any day now. Instead of dragging my mom to my pity party, I nod. "I'd like to think so, but right now it looks bleak. Enough about me. How's everyone here? How's Dad?"

"Wedding planning has kept me busy, and your father has found himself a new hobby." Her voice raises an octave at the end.

"Oh yeah? What's that? He's not collecting vintage fishing tackle again, is he?"

My dad tends to go through these phases, like mini mid-life crises, where he'll randomly start collecting things. Last year it was vintage fishing tackle. The year before that was old oil cans.

"No. Thank goodness." Her shoulders deflate. "We're running out of room to collect things. We need to downsize, not the other way around. Anyway, he bought himself a drone and found a flying club to join. Don't get me wrong, I love your father, but I need him to leave the house. This club gives me a few hours a week to have some peace and quiet."

I'm envious of my parents' relationship. For starters, they have a relationship. One that started in high school. Something me and Dessa should have had. Besides that, they have unconditional love for each other even if they're in each other's hair every now and then. A moment of silence passes between us.

My mom rests her arms on the table and leans in as she bites back a smile. "Are you going to ask me how she's doing? "

My eyebrows hit my hairline as my gaze shoots to my mom.

She swipes her hand in front of her. "Don't give me that look. You know exactly who I'm talking about. I'm surprised you haven't asked about her yet. I figured it would have been the first thing out of your mouth when you walked through the door."

I cast my gaze downward to the white and gray quartz countertop. "I don't know what you're talking about." Playing coy is useless since she can read me like a book. Always has. She calls it a mother's intuition. I call it fucking creepy.

"Just because you don't talk about her doesn't mean you're not thinking about her. I know you." She rests a comforting hand on my forearm.

I fiddle with my phone on the counter, working up the courage to ask. I've never been a nervous guy, but when it comes to Dessa, she short circuits my brain. The corner of my lips curve into a smile. "How's Dessa? Is she still in town?" Fuck. It sounds so weird to say her name out loud. For so long, it's only been a thought in my head.

My parents have always known the reason I cut ties with everyone when I left Harbor Highlands. Having to hear about Tony and Dessa's relationship was always like a knife twisting in my gut. I didn't want to know how happy they were while I was stuck being a miserable piece of shit. She always respected my wishes. Until now.

"She is. She has a townhouse on the south side of town."

My heartrate spikes, knowing that she's still around. For the first two years that I was gone, I occasionally checked her social media but with every post of her and Tony together, I got angrier and more spiteful. Eventually, I couldn't do it anymore. I forced myself to stop looking and torturing myself.

"Her parents still live down the street?" I ask.

"They do. You should stop by for a visit. I'm sure they'd love to see you again."

I nod and rest my hands on the table. I pick at my thumbnail, working up the courage to pry some more. "So, is Dessa…"

"Single?" A knowing smile curves her lips. "The last I heard, yes, and she works at Porter's."

Again, I'm not thrilled my mom can read my thoughts. She always has the answers to the questions I didn't even ask.

"Now go freshen up." She swats my arm. "You can't make a good second-chance impression looking like that."

I laugh, then glance down at my stained hoodie and gray joggers. "What's wrong with this?"

"You'll certainly make an impression looking like that, but I assure you it won't be a good one." She quirks an eyebrow at me.

"Alright." I push away from the counter. After collecting my luggage from the car, I carry them up the stairs to the second floor. Once I'm at the top, I stroll down the hallway. The second door on the right is partially closed, so I push it open with my foot. Instantly, I'm transported to ten years ago. All the walls are still the same slate blue, and every single one of my high school trophies, medals, and plaques decorate the shelves scattered around the room. I drop my luggage in the far corner and glance around.

On the nightstand sits a baseball under a glass case. I pull off the top. The white cowhide is smooth under my thumb. This is the ball from my first ever home run my sophomore year, the same year I made the varsity team. We were only two games into the season when I hit the ball over the fence. As I rounded third, I spotted Dessa cheering in the stands. Our eyes locked and it was that moment I knew my feelings for her exceeded the best friend territory. After our crushing thirteen-to-five win, the entire team went to a friend's house to celebrate. Instead of going out, Dessa and I came back here, sat side-by-side on my bed and binged movies while eating movie theater butter popcorn. She claimed to hate the scary ones, but they were always her first choice when we were together. I'm convinced it was so she could curl into my side at all the scary parts. I wasn't going to complain.

I place the ball back in the case and set the lid on top. Strolling to the other side of the room, I pull out fresh clothes from my suitcase. It's now or never.

After I'm showered and changed, I jump into my rental car and drive across town to Porter's. Along the way, I spot several new businesses mixed in with a few familiar ones. While many things have changed, it's still oddly refreshing to be back home.

I pull into the parking lot and park my car in the first available spot. With a steady hand, I push the ignition button, cutting the engine. Fuck. With a heavy sigh, my hands fall to my lap—once again, my nerves getting the best of me. Even behind the plate with balls flying toward me at ninety miles an hour, I'm never this nervous. Maybe because I have protective padding. Now, I'm just flesh and bones. A lot more damage can happen. What is she going to say? How's she going to react? Will she be happy to see me or want to introduce her fist to my face? I should have packed my catcher's mask. I won't lie—after the way I left, I kind of deserve a punch to the face. But we're older and wiser now, so maybe she'll be understanding. Who am I kidding? She'll want to punch me in my face. Fuck. What if she's not here and I'm psyching myself up for nothing? More importantly, what the hell am I going to say?

"Sorry for ghosting you." Blunt, but a little insensitive.

"Sorry, I couldn't bear to see you with my brother, so I abandoned you." It's the truth.

"Sorry, I was a selfish prick. The idea of you with someone else, even though we were just friends, made me want to stab myself in the eye." Maybe too much truth.

"Sorry. I was in love with you but didn't have the balls to tell you. Hell, I'm pretty sure I'm still in love with you." Oh yeah. She'll definitely punch me in the face for the last one.

Inhaling deeply, I release a long, steady breath, hoping a sense of calm will wash over me, but it doesn't. Here goes nothing then. I exit the car. As soon as I walk through the door of Porter's, I'm instantly hit with nostalgia from ten years ago. The exterior has remained relatively the same, but the inside got a little facelift with a modernized, industrial atmosphere. Jake's done a lot of work here.

The buzz of the TV and chattering voices fill the air. Sweet laughter bursts forth, cutting through all the other noise. It's infectious. A sound I could never forget. I snap my head toward the bar, my heart hammering in my chest, as I spot Dessa. Her smile illuminates the entire room. Her appearance is slightly different. A little older, more mature, but she's still the most beautiful woman I've seen. A smile twitches at the corner of my lips as I pull off my sunglasses. Her smile falters, and her once rosy cheeks turn pale as all the color drains from her face. The whites of her eyes disappear as her body collapses to the floor.