“Blake was always the scholar-athlete type. He made sure I got by, I guess.” He taps his palms on the tops of his knees as if he’s burning off energy. “Mostly, I just wanted to play, so I did what I had to so I could keep playing.”
The same reason he married me—to keep playing. I turn my attention back to the show. The woman is now back with the first guy; she’s in one of those booth confessionals talking about how it was such a hard decision. Anytime I watched something with a love triangle, I always thought,How hard could it be to pick?Now I know.
After a few minutes, Brayden shifts again, clearly bored or antsy or both. His hands spasm a few times like he wants to be holding something. “Are you thirsty?” he asks. “I was gonna get something from the kitchen.”
I hold up my water bottle. “I’m good.”
“Right.” He doesn’t move. “I’m gonna go out.”
Oh.“Okay.”
“For a run, I mean.”
It’s almost full dark outside and he’s going on a road trip tomorrow for a week. Clearly, whatever I have going on isn’t enough. I wonder ifrunis a euphemism for something else—another drink. Another woman. “Sure.”
“You’ll be here?” His forehead scrunches like he’s genuinely worried I might not still be in the house when he gets back.
“Yep. Baby and me will be right here.”
He flashes a smile so quick it comes and goes before I can really register it. Then he leaves to go beat out whatever’s bothering him against the Georgia asphalt.
A week later,I’m in the family room at the end of the game when a text from Brayden comes in.
Brayden: Want a ride home?
I frown at my phone. I have to hold it carefully, because Lexi’s son, Izzy, is sitting on my knee. Mostly, he’s been paying attention to what the other kids are doing—in this case, an elaborate game of slow-motion tag—and shouting, “Go fast!” which makes the other kids move even slower.
I haven’t really seen Brayden since he came home from his road trip. At first, I was grateful for the peace and quiet. Everything with him and Asher felt more manageable at a reasonable distance. But toward the end of it, the house felt a littletooquiet.
Brayden came home late last night, stumbling through the hallway seemingly sober—their plane was delayed—before he dropped his duffel and face-planted in bed for twelve hours.
Is the season catching up with you?I didn’t ask him that. But I’d grabbed his bag, threw in his laundry, made sure there was food in the fridge. He was up and out—run then to the clubhouse—like usual this morning.
I stare down at the pile of papers sitting next to me. I should be reading. Not playing with Izzy. Not going out. But something’s up with Brayden if he’s changing up his habits like this.Maybe he suspects that you and Asher….Only one way to find out.
Me: Sure, see you in a few
I make my way down to the clubhouse entrance, my ballpark pass displayed on the cute pink badge holder Lexi recommended. Other wives are waiting, some scrolling, some trying to manage kids, and I chat with a few of the other girls while players come out to collect them.
After a couple minutes of waiting, the door opens and out comes Asher.
Fuck.I shouldn’t be surprised. He plays here too. I just half-watched him play—he’s in centerfield now—a game for several hours. I knew he was in the building, but in the building and right in front of me are…very different.
Should I ignore him? I stare at my phone, pretending to scroll Instagram, but actually reading the methods section of a journal article. Or attempting to read. All the words shift and blur, and I’m about to give up when Asher comes right up to me.
“Hey,” I say, rather than what I want to—which isnot hereand maybenot anywhere.
“Hey.” He doesn’t look much different from when I last saw him, except he’s wearing a shirt, and his hair is wet from a post-game shower, and I can see the slight outline of his tattoo.
I thought only seeing it in pieces was bad—my eyes following the curlicues of ink wondering what the rest of it was. But it’s worse now that I’ve seen it in full and felt the skin underneath.
“I’m meeting Bray.” If I think hard enough about Brayden, I won’t think about anything else.
“Yeah, I figured.” Asher doesn’t move from where he’s stationed right in front of me.Are the other WAGsgonna notice that we’re talking?Even if we’re not exactly making spectacular conversation.
“How have you, uh, been?” I ask. “Since theroad trip.”
“Theroad trip?” Asher’s mouth does that thing, that thing that makes me want to kiss him and now kind of makes me want to yell at him. “I’ve been fine.”
