“I was debating between a salad or pizza.”
“Why not both? I could go for some pepperoni, and we could split the Greek salad.”
“Cheese sticks too?”
“Like that’s even a question.”
I place the order and pour us both a glass of wine.
“The game doesn’t start for a bit. Do you want to go outside?”
“You know I love your porch.” She leads the way out the front door. I switch the fan on then join her on the couch and we settle into light conversation.
“How’s it going with Chase?”
“Not great right now.” Chase has texted me every morning and every night since I walked out of his place two days ago to let me know he’s thinking of me, and the more time goes on, the stupider I feel for the whole thing. I miss him.
“What happened?” Taylor takes a sip of wine and looks out at the greenway across the street. Her shoulders are tense, and she’s got a weird look in her eye.
“The fight with the catcher from Arizona. He recognized me from the island and figured out we were together.”
“Okay but to be fair, that’s a very unfortunate coincidence and not a conclusion anyone who didn’t know about your one-night stand would reach.”
“It only takes one person to go public to ruin everything.” Why does no one get this? It feels like I’m talking to a brick wall.
“There’s nothing to say he wouldn’t have used something else to rile Chase up. I mean, he took a swipe at Miller too because everyone knows you’re friends.”
“Exactly. They’re using me to attack them and that’s not cool. It’s what I told him I was worried about to begin with. I’m not a cleat chaser, Tay.” I can’t get the words out of my head—words Ricardo threw in my face not long after Miller and Preston arrived in Nashville and we started hanging out. Having an opposing team’s player catch on to my relationship with Chaseonly brought the worries to the surface. Mixed with all the other intrusive thoughts about why Chase and I aren’t good together and the uncertainty surrounding my breast exam, it’s a spiral of chaos in my brain that makes no logical sense, but I can’t turn it off.
“Where the hell did that come from? We all know that.”
“Perception is reality and now that I’ve accepted the general counsel position, I need to be mindful of the optics. It doesn’t look good for me or the organization if I’m involved with a player.”
“So, what, you’re going to stop being friends with Miller and Preston too? You wear their jerseys to the game, not Chase’s. You’re not flaunting your relationship with the rookie.” Ignoring the obvious jab at my ill-fated logic, I latch onto the mention of our relationship.
“I doubt we’re in a relationship anymore anyway.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We had a fight before he left Sunday and we haven’t talked about it.”
Taylor sighs and shakes her head at me. “Gabby, I love you, but you are the most self-sabotaging person I know. What was the fight about?”
“What I just told you. We were being careless and we got caught, so it’s better to end it now before we get in too deep.”
“Honey, you’re already in too deep and that man is in love with you.”
“He can’t possibly be. We don’t make sense together. He’s ten years younger than me and could have anyone he wants. You know what I noticed last weekend at the game? Before the fight and all that?”
Sarcastically, she says, “Can’t wait to hear this. Go on.”
“There were so many women in their twenties at the game. That’s a younger demographic than we’ve reached before and it’s all because of Chase. You should’ve seen their faces whenever he did anything. Literally all he has to do is exist for them to lustafter him. Trust me, I get it. Clearly it worked on me, but he could have any of them. Someone without all these complications. Someone better than me.”
“First of all, there is no one better than you. Second, shouldn’t that be his choice? You’re making the decision for him when he’s made it perfectly clear that he’s in this with you.”
“That’s the problem. He’s done nothing wrong, and I can’t get out of my own way.”
“So, you picked a fight because you were scared and hurt his feelings?” she calls me out but the look on her face is introspective. “Look, I get it, but trust me, you don’t want to let a man like that go and then look back on this in a few years and wish you’d done things differently.” Instead of looking at me, she looks back across the street. Her focus is off. What is she hiding?
