Shadows ring his eyes, his shoulders and jaw and neck tense. I don't know if he's slept. I get it. I haven't either.
The weight of his gaze is so heavy, I almost trip. I have to tear my eyes away from him, rerouting all my energy to put on mytotally fineface, despite the fact that I've never been less fine in my life.
Cass meets me in the dugout. "Hey," she says gently, quietly as I get my things together. When I don't answer, she asks, "Are you okay?"
On goes the totally fine with a nearly audible slap, the cheer in my voice too bright. "Yeah! Great Totally fine. Super duper."
"Convincing. Really."
I avoid her eyes, shoving my hand in my glove.
"I'm impressed, by the way. No one's ever managed to avoid me for a full week. And even at work? That takes commitment."
I flinch. Sigh.Busted.
Her voice is softer now, no edge, no teasing. "Molly. Talk to me."
I glance around, making sure no one's close enough to hear. Still, I hesitate, unsure I can talk about it without crying. And I absolutely cannot cry right now.
Still, I crack a little. "He said it was temporary. Just a break, so everyone couldcool off."
Cass waits.
My voice is smaller. "But it doesn't feel like a break, Cass. It feels like a breakup." The last word wobbles dangerously.
Cass's face shifts to sympathy, then concern, but before she can respond, Grey calls everyone in. She squeezes my arm with a look that saysWe'll talk later.
The thought is comforting. I could really use a hug.
I slap that totally fine smile back on and drag myself onto the field, trying to rally, trying to rah-rah, but really I'm drowning. And Grey? Grey might look like he's been through hell, but he is all business. He hasn't met my eyes since he caught me walking up, and for a full fucking hour, he keeps up the good work. His voice is flat. Clipped. Professional.
He looks even worse up close. Every muscle in his body is tight, his jaw clenched like he's holding something back.
The light in him is just…gone.
I go through the motions, but my focus is shot. All I've done is screw up. Every time I look at him, he's looking away. Every time I look away, I feel his eyes on me.
The distance between us is ten feet and a million miles.
It's excruciating. A dozen times, I come so close to leaving, saying I'm sick, something. Anything. But eventually, it's over. I'm still trying to get my bag together when people are heading to their cars, calling goodbyes. I don't want to linger, but I'm just…slow. Cass hesitates, not wanting to leave me. Almost everyone's gone, the field empty around us except for Grey and Shelby.
I wave her off. "I'm okay. I'll text you."
"No, it's okay. I don't mind." Cass hardens just as I feel the energy shift behind me, like gravity flipped a switch.
Grey.
Cass is glaring at him, her arms folded.
I'm trying to hurry, but my bag shifts, and several softballs fall out and roll away, and I follow one to his foot, my eyes climbing the mountain of him, meeting his gaze. His eyes are lightning bolts in the shadow of his hat brim.
I can't look away. “It’s okay, Cass--go. I'll text you, I promise."
It might be my only chance to talk to him,I try to tell her.
Her eyes narrow, shifting between us, but in the end, she nods at me, kisses my cheek. "You'd better, or I'm coming over."
I chuckle. It's a hollow sound.
