She purses her lips before a pierced smile crosses her face, then takes the pen between her thumb and pointer finger.
“Now, keep in mind, the leasehold rules are set. You are both required to occupy the condo together at all times. The purpose of these properties is for the team to live close to the stadium, but also close to the families.” He weaves his fingers together, holding his own hand in front of the paperwork. “Ember, you know what you were getting into marrying a baseball player. His schedule is going to be incredibly invasive between practices and games. Plus, all the travel during the away games. It’s good you’ll have the other wives around, living in the condo, during those times. Also, we have a lot of events throughout the season. Charities, fundraisers, PR events, things we do together as a team. A family. I expect you both to attend together as often as possible for those events.”
Well, shit. After her confession this morning, I might have to chain her to my bed now. I asked her to be a doting wife for a day. I had no idea Coach would be so adamant about the accountability of his players and their significant others.
My entire body is on the verge of a panic attack, and the lack of oxygen from holding my breath is making my hands tingle. I’m questioning whether or not I’m having an actual heart attack.
“I set this up like this to create camaraderie within the team and for the wives and girlfriends of our players, because I remember how difficult it was for my wife. I fully expect you to both be present and incorporate yourselves into the team. The wives and girlfriends often travel with us, and I fully promote that.” Coach pauses, then looks directly at me. “I’m investing in you. I expect the same in return.”
I look down at Ember’s shoes, and thankfully, she’s wearing high heels. I’d definitely be able to catch her if she physically started running. I glance up to see her appraising the pen, then peer down at the signature line of the document, then she swivels her neck as her eyes meet mine.
My heart rate is completely out of control. She could put down that pen and walk away. She has no obligation to me, to us, to any of this.
My eyes are begging a silent plea.Please stay.
I reach for her free hand, wrapping my pinky around hers.
Her eyes are so fucking sad. Like she already knows she’s going to break my heart.
She looks at our pinkies dancing together, then her gaze returns to the pen, and with a short exhale, she leans forward to the desk. My stomach plummets to the floor when it looks like she is going to place the pen down, but instead, she presses the ink point to the paper and scribbles quickly, then hands the pen to me.
I take the pen out of her hand and quickly scribble my signature next to hers, my eyes on her the entire time.
“Thank you, Coach,” I say, setting the pen down before we both stand together. “We’ll get our things moved into the condo this weekend.” He reaches out to shake my hand, eyeing us both. I pull her into me, wrapping my arm around her and kissing the top of her head.
“Take the weekend to get settled in and explore Seattle. Report back on Monday.”
“Thank you, sir, will do,” I reply, guiding Ember out of his office as I follow behind her. Each step fills me with relief as we get closer to exiting the stadium and into the parking lot.
The relief is short-lived, because the moment she closes the door to the passenger side of my truck, everything she was able to hold back comes out.
18
EMBER
“What the hell was that, Hudson?” I throw my hands over my face and push them back through my hair. “You told me you needed a wife for a day, one day! Not… not… signing up to be a forever baseball wife, following you around like a lost puppy.”
“I didn’t know it was going to go down like that. I had no idea he felt that way.” He turns to face me, reaching his hand to grab mine, and I instantly yank it back.
His frustration is obvious, but it’s quickly replaced with concern.
This is exactly why I didn’t want to get involved in this. I feel stuck. Even the cab of his overly sized truck is closing in on me, and everything feels so goddamn small.
“Just drive. Please drive.” I jam my finger into the window button, rolling the window down to get some air as Hudson faces forward, starts the truck, and pulls out of the parking lot.
As we exit, I see a couple of families on the sidewalk across the street, at what appears to be the condo that we will be living in. Two women are taking a selfie together. Their men are behind them, as they expertly try to moveso the stadium is the backdrop behind them. One guy has a child on his shoulders, the other has one in each arm. They all squeeze together and smile as we pass by.
“Those guys are on the team,” Hudson shares with me, his tone understated.
“I figured.” I don’t intend my reply to be so curt, but I feel so frustrated I don’t bother to apologize for it when it does.
His confession this morning about everyone else’s idea of his image and the injury he had pulled at my heartstrings. I was just trying to help him out, but I should have just said no. There are too many things that I’m trying to work on for myself.
I’m finally out from under my parents’ grueling pestering about marriage and babies. Away from my friends, who judged me for wanting a life, a career of my own. Just to fall into a situation where I’ve agreed to be a housewife and worry more about someone else’s future than my own.
So, why did I sign the papers? I signed the paper because I also lied to my parents about meeting Hudson. Even though they don’t know I got married, the lie I told them led me here. And I couldn’t let Hudson down or embarrass either one of us in front of his coach. His coach, who under normal circumstances would be a great guy, but right now, his upstanding, old-fashioned morals are the bane of my existence.
And because I feel like a goddamn pushover.
