“I know it sounds crazy, but I know what this means to you. And it doesn’t mean that you love baseball more than me. You came, and I’m glad you did. But now I’m okay, and there’s still time for you to live your dream.”
He bites his lips and his eyes brighten. “Lately, all my dreams are about you.”
“Oh, Casey,” I cry. “I dream about you, too. But now, you need to finish this one. Go chase this dream, Casey, and then come back to me.”
Casey drops his head into my stomach and rocks his face back and forth. My unhindered arm reaches across the bed and caresses his hair.
“Shit, Sage,” he cries. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Yes, you do. You don’t need to feel guilty. Go. I’m asking you to.”
He fists the comforter between his fingers, and I worry he won’t get up. I worry that I haven’t said enough. His hair is soft between my fingers, and I tug on the ends.
“I love you,” I whisper. “I always will.”
He looks up and his face is devastated at first, then it changes and he looks resolved. He sniffles a couple of times and nods. “All right. I’ll finish this, and then I’m coming right back home to you. Do you hear me?”
I smile brightly. The biggest smile since I’ve woken up from this terrible headache. “You come home to me, Casey. And bring back a World Series title.”
“Shit.” He laughs and wipes his face with the back of his hand. “You’re one tough woman, Sage. You’ve always been.”
“I know. And you love it.”
“I do.” He chuckles and leans down to kiss me. “I fucking do.”
Then he squeezes my hand and says, “I’ll call you as soon as I land. And before I get onto the field.”
I nod, tears welling up in my eyes. I want him to go, I really do. But I can’t help those old thoughts. My heart calls out to him, but I keep my lips pressed together. It’s the right thing for him to go even though I can’t stand watching him leave. Feelings of abandonment overwhelm me, but I push them deep into my chest.
The room is quiet when he’s gone. There’s only the beeping from the machines and the nurses in the hallway. I close my eyes and place my hand over my chest. I inhale slowly through my nose, and exhale through my mouth. I do this for five breaths, concentrating on how the air fills my lungs and belly. Keeping my body still, I calm my mind and anxiety. After a little while, my body sinks into the bed and I fall asleep, dreaming of Casey lying beside me, telling me that he dreams of me, too.
*
The next day, I feel so much better. I have more energy and the weight that I’ve been carrying on my shoulders seems lighter. I ask Jane to wheel me to the visitor’s lounge so we can watch the World Series game together.
Austin, Caleb, Charlotte, and the kids are all at the game, but Jane stayed back for me. “You really didn’t have to do that,” I say. “You could have gone to the World Series. I wouldn’t have held it against you.”
“Oh, you know me. I hate the anxiety of it all. At least if I don’t want to watch it here, I can turn it off.”
“We are not turning off the game,” I warn her.
She purses her lips. “Fine.”
Heels click down the hallway, and a familiar face appears around the corner. “Hey! So, this is where the party is then.”
“Frankie!” I say, a grin spreading across my face. “What are you doing here?”
“Like I said, I heard there was a party, and you know that I hate to miss a good one.” Frankie rushes over to me and throws her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re ok,” she whispers.
I squeeze her back. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Jane waves her hands. “Casey’s up. The manager is calling him in.”
“Oh good. I’m just in time then.” Frankie pulls out three wine coolers from her large tote bag.
“Frankie, I don’t think she’s allowed to drink.”
Frankie’s forehead wrinkles. “You said the concussion is gone and it’s just the arm sling. She’s leaving the hospital tomorrow. One day earlier won’t hurt, so what’s the harm?”
