It’s a hatred that has consumed me for a very long time, stripped me bare, and left me a broken man in its wake.
Lily steps into my line of vision, placing my face between her hands and gently pulling it down to look at her. My gaze bounces between hers, desperate to know what she’s thinking—to know if she sees me as the monster I am—but she’s not looking at me with disgust. Instead, there’s a softness in her eyes that I don’t deserve.
“Is there a reason you didn’t tell him about this?” she asks. Her voice has no edge, yet it cuts me anyway.
Working my jaw back and forth, I stare at the spot where Tannerdisappeared over the hill. “Because we don’t have that kind of relationship. I’m constantly walking on eggshells, not knowing what I should say and what I shouldn’t—and none of that is Tanner’s fault. It’s mine. I don’t know my son, and that’s why we are here.”
Lily’s thumb traces my cheek. “But you’re trying to know him, and in the end, that’s what matters. He’s not a kid—not really—so stop handling him with kid gloves. Let him in.”
I scoff, drawing my attention back to her. “And what exactly should I tell him, hopeless? That I bribed his principal into fake dating me so that I can look like a better man?”
Shame burns my face from the harshness of my voice. It’s not her fault. None of this is her fault. It’s mine—and Josephine’s—yet Lily gets the brunt of my anger.
She tilts her head, staring at me with piercing blue eyes that see everything, and then she shrugs. “You are a better man, Theo. You don’t need me to look like one.”
Her hands drop from my face, and she steps back, walking away like Josephine and Tanner. But the difference is that she’s not leaving me more broken than she found me when she leaves.
______________________
The Benton Falls baseball team has the talent to win—that is if two of my star players could get their heads out of their butts and start playing instead of bickering.
Since the beginning of the game, Tanner and Morgan have worked against each other, and we are losing because of it.
There’d been tension between them during practices, but nothing compared to this. It started with Tanner making some snide remark to Morgan about his seat on the bench while waiting to bat. Morgan smarted off with something I couldn’t hear, and I chewed them out. Now, it’s turned into both of them refusing to throw the ball to the other out on the field. Rochester, the team we are playing, has scoredthree times now because of it.
Our pitcher finally throws three outs, ending the game. The boys run off the field, looking dejected.
Morgan and Tanner are the last to run off, and I step in front of them before they can get into the dugout.
“This stops now,” I say, dropping my voice into a growl. Both boys glare back at me.
“Look at that—Daddy needs to step in and fight your battles for you,” Morgan says, glaring at Tanner. His baseball cap is pulled down low over his eyes, his smile filled with hatred.
Tanner jumps as if he’s going to hit Morgan, but before he can, I step between the two, grabbing each of their jerseys.
“I said enough,” I roar. “If both of you want to stay on this team, you better figure out how to get along. Idon’tplay favorites andwon’tput up with your drama. So figure it out.”
I’m breathing heavily by the time I’m done with my speech, and both boys look at me as if they can run through me.
“Whatever, man. Take it up with your son.” Morgan yanks his shirt out of my hand and walks into the dugout, anger radiating off him in waves—too much anger for a kid his age.
Tanner is still standing beside me with his jersey in my hand, and with the way he’s looking at me, I feel like I’m back to square one—back to how it was last fall when he refused to speak to me.
“Look, kid,” I say, my voice softer now. “I know you’re mad at me, but don’t take it out on your team. When the game is over, let’s talk about it.”
Tanner’s eyes are dull, almost bored. “There’s nothing to talk about,Dad.”
He says my name with enough sarcasm to knock me off my feet. I let his shirt go, and he walks into the dugout, shaking his head.
Scrubbing my hand down my face, I feel someone step beside me.
“Well, this has been fun,” Hayes says, staring at the dugout where the boys are lining up to shake the other team’s hand.
I snort. “That’s not how I would describe it.”
Hayes shrugs. “It wasn’t that bad. Tanner and Morgan both have strong personalities. We’ll just have to navigate that.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
