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I’m sorry, Millie. For everything. I wish I could go back and change things and be the man you needed me to be. But I can’t. All I can do is move forward and try to be better.

I’m getting help. I’m talking to someone, finally facing all the shit I’ve been running from. It’s hard, and it sucks, but I’m doing it.

I miss you, but so does Harold. He calls for you a lot, and I don’t say that to make you feel bad, only for you to know it’s not only me who fell in love with you. It’s me and this stupid bird that I got specifically so I could hire you. I only ever wanted to be near you. To somehow make you mine. Even if I needed to adopt a cockatoo for an excuse.

I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t even expect you to reply to this. But I hope, one day, you can find it in your heart to give me another chance. Because I love you. I love you so much, and I know I fucked up, but I want to make it right.

Love you.

Austin

PS- I hope your mom is doing all right. I included some things for her too.

I assume the small pink bag at the bottom of the box is for my mother, and I hand it over to her. Inside is a lip balm, tubes of Vaseline, tea bags, and a small prayer booklet that makes her laugh.

“What is it?” I ask, looking over her shoulder, though it’s hard to see with my blurry vision.

“Tells the story of Saint Rita, who they are saying is the unofficial patron saint of baseball.” She flips through it to a specific page, which calls the nun and anointed saint the official patron saint of impossible causes. “She’s known as the patroness for widows and the sick.”

I wipe at my eyes. Austin would be the one to find the exact right gift to give Mom. It’s perfect.

Noah skitters off upstairs with his loot as I take out the check, and there are way too many zeros on it. So many, Mom has to sit down when she sees it, but then I hand her his handwritten note, and she hums quietly. “I think it would be rude to return the money. He wants to spoil you, so let him.”

I slip into one of the chairs. “Yeah, but we broke up.”

She lifts her shoulder like that fact is inconsequential. “You know what I would really like to do tonight? I’d like you to bring your laptop up to my room, so that I can see some colleges with pre-veterinary programs.” When I toss her a wry look, she gestures to herself. “Call it a last wish.”

“Dark humor doesn’t suit you.”

“Well, working for an accountant doesn’t suit you.” She has a coughing fit, as if to punctuate her message. So, I find my laptop and then lie down next to my mother while we search universities.

It’s the most energetic I’ve seen her in weeks.

CHAPTER 30

AUSTIN

We made it to the Wild Card Series. Best of three. And I’m peaking at exactly the right time.

We’re tied with Chicago, one win apiece, and whoever takes this one goes on to play Atlanta, with their star player Brett Ashwood.

I want this so fucking bad, I can taste it.

But before I can go out to the field, I need to change my routine and add one extra activity. Finding Yadi in the training room, I wait until he’s finished with his regimen to ask if we can talk. He’s mostly kept his distance since I flipped out in the locker room weeks ago and broke his speaker, but he agrees now with a nod. Once we’re out in the hall, away from prying ears and eyes, I hand him the bag with the replacement speaker. “I wanted to apologize to you.”

Yadi peeks into the bag. “Is this for me?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. For breaking yours and yelling at you and…”

“Treating your best friend so bad,” he fills in.

“You’re not my best friend.”

He throws his arms around my neck. “We are best, best, best friends.”

I don’t push him away, but I don’t give in to him either. “I hate you.”

“No, you love me, and I love you, and that is how I know you are heartbroken. I’m glad for the new speaker, but I know you didn’t mean it, all the…” He toggles his head back and forth, finding his words. “Stomping around, shouting a lot, more than you always do. You’re sad over Millie, I know.”