54. Hudson

54

HUDSON

A silent and awkward car ride brought us home last night. She didn’t say anything more about my confession of knowing about New York, because neither one of us was ready for it.

It resulted with us in bed; her completely passed out from exhaustion, and me restless and wide fucking awake.

The nerves trickled through every inch of my body, robbing my ability to relax, and my mind reeled through so many thoughts, emotions, and scenarios, reliving our entire relationship over the span of the night.

I love her, and the thought of losing her is eating me like a flesh-eating parasite from the inside out.

Yesterday, before the party, Coach called and asked me to meet him this morning, and knowing it was about signing me was bittersweet. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted for my career, but it keeps me here, three thousand miles away from her.

So, now, I’m returning home after my meeting with him, feeling even more conflicted than before.

Up until now, it’s just been talk, rumors of signing me, but this morning, they made an official offer .

Five years. He was even able to turn the non-negotiable trade agreement after three years into an optional one, allowing me the right to choose if I want to be traded.

It’s a no-brainer situation. Other than the fact that there is still a consideration of an offer to my brother to come on as pitcher next season. As much as I’m trying to regain some trust there, I think I need more than a few months of an offseason to get there.

Regardless, it’s what I’ve been waiting for, and there’s nothing that should persuade me to turn it down. Except a walking, living, breathing, intoxicating redhead that I would follow to the edge of the universe if she asked me to.

My first response to Coach Raymer was, “ I’ll think about it. ”

That took him completely by surprise, as it should. So, I finally confessed to him.

Everything.

Vegas, the wedding, keeping up the fake marriage, and what everything has turned into leading up to her decision to take this position in New York.

He was more understanding than I deserve, but now he’s worried that I won’t stay. But I have to stay. So why didn’t I fucking sign?

I walk through the front door of our condo, and the quietness that fills the room tells me that Ember is still sleeping. It’s not surprising, considering the week she had leading up to the massively successful opening of the club and, well, our extracurriculars in room six last night.

I walk into the kitchen and press the brew function on the coffee pot, then grab a couple of mugs down from the cabinet.

The click of the bedroom door handle rings through the silence, followed by the soft patter of Ember’s bare feet coming down the hall.

“Hey,” she greets me softly, holding the corners of the comforter that’s draped around her like a suit of armor.

“Hey.” I smile, because I don’t want her to feel like she needs to walk on eggshells. And I can’t help but smile whenever she’s around me.

“Where’d you go?” She leans into the barstool, pushing herself up to sit on it.

“I had a meeting with Coach Raymer.” I pour her coffee into a mug and slide it her way. “He wanted to talk about a potential contract.”

Her eyebrows lift and her lips quirk up. “Really?” she says with genuine excitement.

I huff out a small chuckle and nod. “Yeah, it’s a good offer. I have to think about it.”

I peer at her over my coffee mug, taking a sip of the warm intoxicating liquid. She does the same, and her eyes roll to the back of her head with a moan.

“Wow, I think that challenges some orgasms I’ve given you.” I wiggle my eyebrows, attempting to lighten the mood.

“I’m not sure that’s possible.” The corners of her lips quirk up behind her mug, giving me a knowing look.

We have a lot of those between us. Things just we know about each other. I love knowing I hold her secrets, desires, the side that she hasn’t shown to anyone else.

That’s mine.

The floating sensation in my stomach drops, making my chest tighten when I think of her giving that to anyone else.

A pregnant pause passes between us, and I don’t want to wait any longer. Sleep evaded me all night as I fought with myself, the battle to fight for her to stay or completely let her go.

When I saw her at the top of the stairs last night, the moment my eyes connected with hers, I felt her pain, like some silent connection, rebounding between the two of us like morse code, yet avoiding a conversation about it like we don’t speak the language.

The conflict of wanting something so badly, but feeling guilty because of the hurt it will cause when we both want something so completely different.

My desire for her to stay, and her desire to take the next step in her career, doesn’t keep us together on that path.

I want to take the pain of her being forced to make that decision away. I never want to cause her that kind of suffering, but the excruciating pain exploding behind my rib cage won’t allow me to give up that easily.

Knowing I need to rip my heart out of my chest and expose it to her in order to try to keep her is worth the risk.

“I walked onto that plane, lost, aimlessly wandering through a meaningless life. Then there you were.” I can’t help but smile. “Two hours later, I stepped off that plane, alive, with only a first name and a memory of a woman I somehow fell instantly in love with.”

Her breath hitches at my confession.

“Every inch of who I am—from the surface of my skin to the depths of my soul—loves you. I love you with everything I have. I love the life we’ve built, the friends we’ve made, the experiences we’ve had. Nothing about what we’ve had has been fake for me. None of it.”

She curls the comforter closer together, tightening it around her body.

“I can’t offer you New York, at least, not right now. I can’t give you what you need in your career, and I’m fucking pissed there’s nothing I can do to change that.” My hands run through my hair, attempting to grab the rampant thoughts streaming through my mind. I take a steady, deep breath to continue my fight .

“You can have both. You can have a career and a life and… us. It doesn’t have to be one or the other. I never want to hold you back, ever, but I have to fight for this. I can’t not fight for you to stay… with me.” My words are more rushed now, coming out as a plea, a desperate demand.

I didn’t have a speech prepared, but it sure came out like one.

“Hudson—”

“Stay.” I interrupt her before she can say anything more, and I stare straight through her, even though she’s dodging my gaze. “Stay with me.”

She glances around the room nervously. Her eyes are glossed over and shiny, and as much as I don’t want her to resent me for staying, the selfish part of me would rather live with that than live without her. Even though I know how wrong that is.

Her chest lifts as she sits taller in her chair. There’s a slight tilt in her chin and an invisible wall constructed within the blink of an eye.

“I can’t.” She swallows thickly, like the truth of her wanting this, wanting us, sits at the top of her throat and she refuses to let it surface.

My heart fucking shatters.

As if there is an anchor on my neck, my weighted head falls forward and I close my eyes painfully, wanting to say so much more. A tight band forms around my chest, killing the air from my lungs, along with the desire to keep fighting.

I step over to the side of the island, open the top drawer, and pull out the manila envelope that I stuffed in there this morning. I had it tucked away in my desk for months, hoping it never saw the light of day. But I retrieved it this morning and signed it, knowing I would be powerless to do it in front of her.

Her eyes widen as she sees it, and I know she knows exactly what it is .

I grip it tightly in my fingertips, not wanting to give it up.

“Fuck,” I whisper to myself. Scolding myself. Blaming myself.

I walk around the island, cupping her face urgently, hauling her lips to mine. She kisses me back with just as much urgency and silent tears streaming down her cheek. The salty liquid crawls over our lips and hits my tongue. I can’t help but moan into her to avoid more petitioning and desperate begging for her to change her mind.

Reluctantly, I pull back, resting my nose on hers, keeping my eyes closed. If I look at her, it will destroy me, and if I don’t stop, I’ll never fucking stop.

“I can’t watch you leave.” With my head down, ashamed and disappointed in myself that I couldn’t do more, be more for her, I place the envelope in her hands, containing both the signed papers and my bleeding heart.

“I love you.” Giving her one final kiss before I tear myself away, I step around her as a gaping hole bursts through my heart.