Abby slipped on a new helmet. She ignored the dejected slump of her teammates at Coach Whitley’s suspension and the jeering as she took first base. She searched the stands for Audie, then searched them for her mother. While she didn’t find them, she felt them. The field rippled under their influence. While she’d survived the crash, Abby sensed the end. As she met Kate’s gaze across the diamond, she knew she sensed it too.
Insley beat Colwood College to advance to the semi-finals, but a decade later, no one would remember the score. They’d remember Abby getting hit and Coach Whitley getting ejected. They’d remember Mick and T.K. going out for revenge the next inning—Mick giving the signal, a prominent middle finger, to T.K., who blatantly drilled the next Colwood batter in the thigh. They’d remember how Colwood’s bench cleared and that the haggard umpire issued a final warning to both teams, narrowly preventing a full-blown brawl.
And while Insley won, it didn’t feel right. Not to Kate. Not when the game cracked open under the pressure, spewing with the anxiety and rage that she and Abby skirted around, but never talked about. Now that it threatened them on the outside, risking the game, Kate knew they’d hit more than an impasse.
That’s why Abby, with her bag packed, didn’t surprise her when she entered their hotel room. That was the final score Kate would remember that day. It might as well have flashed on the board hours ago.
“Thank God,” Mick said when the door shut behind Kate. “Tell her she can’t leave.”
Jill, T.K., and Mick stood helplessly, with the same worry everyone brought to Kate. The plea to keep Abby in check. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep answering the call.
“Don’t go,” she said.
“I’m sorry.” Abby adjusted the duffel bag on her shoulder and started for the door.
Kate blocked her path. “Why’d you do it?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Abby glared. “I’m the one that got hit.”
“It does matter. You don’t get to leave like this,” she said. Abby tried to brush past, but Kate put a hand on her chest. “Haven’t you risked our chances enough? We already have to play the semi-final without Coach.”
“Jesus, it’s just a game!”
Jill slid between them. “Guys, come on. Let’s not blame each other.”
“It’s a team! It’s not only about you!” Kate yelled.
“Then win without me.” Abby raised a brow at Kate, then glanced at their teammates. “That’s what I thought. You just want me here so I can help us win.”
“That’s not true.”
“Then why am I still a secret? You only want me so long as you don’t have to risk anything to have me.”
“And what have you risked? What happened tonight was all about you. You didn’t care about what it meant for anyone else.”
“Fine.” Abby dropped her bag. “You really want to have it out?”
Kate bit her lip to conceal that the prospect terrified her. She turned to their friends. “Can you give us some privacy?”
Mick’s eyes widened. “You sure?”
“Go, Mick.” Abby grunted.
Kate sat at the end of their bed as the door rattled shut. She didn’t want to scream. She didn’t really want to fight. As Abby stood across from her, unreachable, Kate still recognized the person she loved. The person she gave everything to.
“Don’t go like this,” she said. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
Abby’s brow pinched. Her lower lip quivered just once before she shifted her gaze to the baggage at her feet. “I can’t do it. I can’t stand by while you slip away from me.”
“I’m not.” Kate couldn’t bring herself to lie. Not even in the heat of an argument. Not to Abby. “I’m not trying to. I’m sorry.” She drew in an uneasy breath, gathering whatever flimsy strength she had left after weeks of anxiety. “I know it’s not fair, but I spent over twenty years fearing God and imperfection. That doesn’t just disappear. Not when I see my parents.” A knot filled her throat. “Not when I feel like I have to choose between them and you. It makes me wonder if I feel this doubt and uncertainty because itiswrong.”
She’d hoped to find a hint of comfort in Abby’s gaze, but she received her so empty that it punched her in the chest instead.
“You meanwe’rewrong?” Abby crossed her arms like it was disgraceful. “It’s love, Kate. How can that not be good?”
“Then why doesn’t it feel good right now?” Kate’s chin wobbled.
“Because you’re fighting it. Because you’re afraid. Because you’re letting your parents win.”
