“You have me,” Victoria says, tugging on my hand. “And you have Hunter.”
I laugh because that could be the farthest thing from the truth.
“Hunter will never want to see me again after the way I talked to him the last time we were together. Trust me, he is better off without me in his life. All I’ve ever done is push him away. He has got to be tired of that by now. I know I would be.”
“Rochelle,” Victoria says sternly as I stare back into her eyes. “Hunter asked you to marry him. To spend the rest of your life with him. A life that won’t be perfect and is sure to come with some ups and downs. He already knew what he was getting into when he put that ring on your finger, and he still wanted you no matter what. Something tells me you still want him, too. So why do you fight it?”
“V, I pushed him away, repeatedly. This last time, I even threw the ring he gave me at his feet and told him to never speak to me ever again. I accused him of being a liar, something I know he is not, but God I just couldn’t believe the truth Not then, not now, possibly not ever. Who would want to take someone like that back? I wouldn’t.”
“I think you are underestimating the power of love, Rochelle.” My sister gently says. “And the funny thing about its power is it has a way of making you do things you swore you’d never do, because every second apart from the one you love makes you feel dead inside.”
I know she is right, but how can I bring myself to face Hunter after the mess I made? I shake my head a few times and try to think of something to say to prove her wrong, but she stops me as she says, “Even if he stole your heart, you have to fight for what matters most. And what matters more than anything, is that you two are great together. I know it. He knows it. What’s more, you know it.”
I stare at her blankly. She’s right. Love is a two-way street. It’s not worth the time walking alone when you could have your better half walking beside you.
I glance to the door behind me. I know what I need to do. Fight for what matters most, regardless of what it costs me. Turning around to meet her stare, I smile for the first time in days.
“V, I…”
She shakes her head and grins. “Go, we both know there is some place you need to be. Just promise me one thing, you won’t come back unless you bring him with you.”
* * *
“Bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, tied game. I tell ya, Hunter Alexander has to be sweating knowing that just the wrong move on this next play could cost him more than many in the stands might think tonight. Rumor has it, this game is tied to a deal with the Atlanta Braves. But nothing is set in stone yet, and from the way he’s played today, the Braves may just be looking for another player if he throws this game here tonight.”
I make my way to the bottom of the row right behind home plate. My heart drops. He can’t miss this. He can’t lose. If he does, I know it is all because of me, and I will never forgive myself.
“I hear ya, Tom,” another announcer says as I look up and see Hunter standing at the pitcher’s mound talking to the pitcher and his coach. “If he wants to save more than just this game, he is going to have to get his head into this next play or the Braves won’t be the only team looking to replace him next season.”
My breath catches, and I know it isn’t because I just run through the parking lot. I need to talk to him. I need to change this, all of this, but the crowd starts to yell as the three men break up at the mound and make their way back to their positions.
I get rude looks from people as I scoot my way down the line and take the Cunningham seats V said were always reserved. Hunter doesn’t look up as he makes his way back to his spot behind home plate. Eyes trained on the ground, frustration, sadness, heartache radiate off him. He kicks the dirt and yells something at the umpire before sliding his mask down his face and taking his position.
The pitcher winds up for the pitch. The ball is thrown. The umpire yells ball. Collectively the whole crowd sighs as we all sit a little further on the edge of our seats and watch Hunter throw back out to the mound.
“Come on,” I hiss right as Hunter turns back around and looks me straight in the eye. My whole world finally feels right for the first time in weeks. But I wait, needing to know if this is okay. If we are okay. Because I know he shouldn’t forgive me. I know he shouldn’t feel anything for me, care for me, or love me after what I put him through. But I hope he will.
He stops and looks at me with wide, startled eyes. I stand, slowly, and wait for a sign, for him to give me a sign that it’s okay that I am here. Waiting for him. Rooting for him. That it’s okay to hope that he will meet me after and forgive me for everything I put him through. For everything I put us through.
He doesn’t move, and the umpire grows irritated. After a moment, when I have yet to see a smile cross his face, I do something I never in my wildest dreams thought I would ever have the guts to do.
I’ve always hidden in the shadows, always walked away, even when it came to him, to us. I never took a stand for what mattered most. I let fear get the better of me every day and worm its way between us from the very beginning. But not anymore.
He’s what matters most, and I’ve never been more ready to stand tall and stake claim to a man I love more than anything in the whole world.
“Catch… Catch… Catch…,” I start to chant, quietly at first, until a few people around me take notice and start to do the same.
“Catch… Catch… Catch…” I chant louder, as a few of the rows around me start to join in.
“Catch… Catch… Catch!” The stadium soon roars as Hunter finally breaks, giving me a sly grin and looking around at the crowd now chanting the nickname I gave him in unison.
The crowd continues, and Hunter looks back at me and winks. Giving me that delicious smirk of his, he pulls his mask down and takes his stance behind the plate. I take a few steps towards the fence and grab a hold through the metal waiting for the pitch.
It’s thrown, the batter swings, and he connects as the ball flies straight out to right field. It bounces once before Hunter’s teammate picks it up and throws it into first base. The batter is out. Quickly, the first baseman turns and throws home. Hunter catches the ball perfectly, and swings around as the player from third comes barreling into home plate. He hits Hunter with so much force, both men fall violently to the ground. The crowd jumps to their feet, and seconds pass like minutes, hours, as everyone waits to see if Hunter dropped the ball.
But I am too worried if the love of my life is alright to think about the play. The umpire steps forward, the runner begins to stand, and the crowd goes wild when Hunter holds up the ball indicating that the play was good and he didn’t drop it.
“He’s out!” the umpire yells. The crowd explodes into cheers.
