Current Day

Mets stay a game ahead going into the All-Star break. This headline will make New Yorkers happy. Well, all of them but this one. Nestled on the couch scouring the internet for drips of information about your former boyfriend may fall under creepy stalker status, but I don’t care. It’s obvious Jax is struggling. And I hate that a small portion of me is glad. It’s just that if he acted unaffected by our breakup, another piece of me would’ve died.

I do feel bad for him. He needs to buck up and focus on the team, just like I need to focus on what the hell I’m going to do. Mom tells me the bakery I loved for years is for sale. The temptation to move back home and start over dangles in front of me like a carrot. I could take the money from selling my home and use it for securing the deposit on the bakery. Two problems exist with that scenario, moving in with my parents and being a permanent resident in Bowling View. Both seem like a huge step back. The words complete failure flash through my mind. The goal from the very start is to make it on my own. Not move back with my parents’ assistance.

But I no longer want to be here. Living in the city was never my dream. It was Carl’s. Which would be a third problem. I’m not sure he’d ever let me move with the kids. But each passing day is another day of my life wasted. Maybe I’m being dramatic, but this suffocating feeling is real. I want out of here. I want a change.

I want Jax.

My fingers fly across the keypad and type his name in the search bar. The first article to hit is the stupid Diva’s Disses blog. I flick the screen, as if it helps, and then scroll past the devastating article straight to his team picture. Those eyes. Those beautiful, sexy eyes stare back at me, and I feel him everywhere. My skin tingles with the mere thought of his fingertips running along my skin. His fingers pressing into my soft flesh as he pushes harder inside me. I squeeze my eyes shut and let the yearning rush through. This breakup is for the best. It is. When I open my eyes, I glance back at the article and wince. The reasons we won’t work long-term replays in my mind like a playlist stuck on repeat. Even though the facts prove my point, I can’t help wondering if I made the worst mistake of my life.

The doorbell jars me from my self-pity. He came. Abandoning the laptop, I push off the couch, my heart fluttering as fast as hummingbird wings. It has to be him. Seven o’clock on a Thursday night, who else could it be?

My hands shake as I grab hold of the doorknob. I have no idea what I will say to him, but I don’t care. I missed him so much. At this point, if he demanded we get back together, I’d cave. I know I would.

With a slow, calming breath, I force the smile from my face—no need showing how anxious I really am—but my attempt at maintaining a neutral expression proves futile. Standing at my stoop is none other than my ex.

“What are you doing here, Carl?” I stand in the middle of the entryway, not allowing him to enter. His jaw is set as he scans the area behind me. It’s almost as if he’s expecting someone to be here and he wants to pick a fight. His body relaxes when he returns his gaze to me.

“If it’s Jax you’re looking for, he’s not here.” I clench my teeth together to hide how much hurt that statement causes. I really did believe he’d show up, but then again, fighting for me has never been his thing.

“I wanted to talk.” He steps forward, but I grip the door tighter and widen my stance. He needs to respect my boundaries. The days of him barging in here like he still owns the place is over.

“I don’t think we have much to discuss.”

“Don’t be this way. Aren’t you going to ask me in?”

“No.” The sound of footsteps pattering against the floor causes me to sigh.

“Daddy.” Trenna rushes to Carl, and I have no choice but to move out of the way. He steps inside and lowers down to one knee to hug her. I shut the door—no use air-conditioning the outside—but stand beside them. Maybe he’ll get the hint and leave.

“I need to discuss some things with your mom. Go to your room, and I’ll come and get you guys when I’m done.”

Of course. I bite my tongue, holding back the expletives I want to say, and march to the couch. I may as well get settled because I’m in for a long evening.

“So, I take it our problem has been taken care of permanently?” he asks after Trenna races back to her room.

“Problem?” I play it off as if I don’t know what he’s talking about, but dude, give it up already. It’s been over a month. How he can walk in here and still try to run my life is beyond me. But isn’t that exactly what he does every single time he’s here? What I allow him to do? Sweet Baby Jesus, I’ve let him dictate my choices this entire time.

“You know what I’m talking about.” He points to the open laptop and practically growls.

“Jax? Uh, he’s never been a problem.”

“Are you seriously going to sit here and defend him? After what he did?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Really? Sleeping with someone and getting them pregnant isn’t doing anything wrong? You know, I don’t want these types of headlines affecting my kids. They already have been harassed.”

My resolution wavers. I had no idea he knew about the other kids saying things to Tristan. “I highly doubt she’s pregnant. And if she is, the baby’s likely not his. She’s obviously a gold-digger.” Who still hasn’t surfaced. She must be taking a long vacation out of the country.

“He’s a known player, Jocelyn. Wake the fuck up. The woman followed him to spring training, not to mention hanging around the bar the team visits.”

My back straightens. “What bar?”

“I don’t know. Arti’s or some shit.”

“Wait…how would you know that? That wasn’t mentioned in the papers.”

He stills, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. There’s no way for him to know the name of their hangout, let alone her approaching Jax there. “How did you know about the bar?”

“It’s common knowledge.”

“It wouldn’t be to you.” I wait for a response, some type of rebuttal, but he remains quiet. A cold tremor shoots down my back. “You wouldn’t… You didn’t… Damn it, Carl, please tell me you didn’t have anything to do with this.”

The tic in his jaw appears, and I think I’m going to be sick. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” He averts his eyes, a sure sign he’s lying.

“Tell me what you did.” Rage sweeps through me, and I spring off the couch and get in his face. I can’t believe he’d stoop to this level. “Tell me the truth.”

“Nothing, I—”

“Did you set this up?”

Tic. Tic. Tic. His damn twitch, the only thing responding.

“Did you pay her?”

“It’s not like it seems.”

Sweet Jesus, I’m so sick of guys using that excuse. It’s exactly what it seems.

“Did you pay her to set him up?” Again with the fucking silence. “Jesus, Carl, is she even pregnant?”

“That I don’t know. She went rogue with that one.”

“You do realize Jax could press charges against you. Paying someone to sleep with them, whether they did or not, is basically prostitution. Plus, he could sue your ass. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wanted you to see what kind of guy he really is.”

“So, what? He didn’t take the bait, and you made up some wild story? Tried ruining his reputation along with mine? Intentionally bringing harm to our kids. What the hell, Carl?”

“I messed up. All I wanted was for our family to go back to the way it was.”

“It’s never going back to the way it was.” I feel sucker punched. How am I going to explain this to Jax? He’ll be livid. “I’ll smooth this over with Jax. For the sake of the kids, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bring charges against you. But you no longer have a say so in what I do with them. If I want to move back to North Carolina, you won’t stand in my way. You’ll step aside and let me do what I want.”

Carl remains quiet, but he has no choice but to relent.

“Just leave.” I point to the door, refusing to look at him.

“I suppose you’ll hop back into Jax’s bed.”

My gaze snaps back to his. “That’s not your concern. You lost the right to my private affairs the day you cheated on me.”

His back straightens as he stares at me.

My tone is no longer angry, just sad. “I would’ve stayed faithful to you, you know. Please leave.”

He nods. When he reaches the door, he turns back to me and says, “You may have been faithful, but we both know who owns your heart.”

Whether I want to admit it or not, Carl did me a favor by cheating. I’m no longer involved in a second-rate marriage. The only problem is, I’m no longer involved with the man I love either.