Page 95 of Rain Delay

“Do you think you’re saving the day here, Mitchell?” he continued, his voice vibrating with tension. “You think coming back into her life, planned or not, is going to make up for the years you left behind?”

I shake my head slowly. I was well aware of my actions. I took full responsibility for them and this interrogation had me on edge.

My voice was quiet, but I had to be steady. He paused, his jaw working as he waited for me to say something stupid.

“I know exactly what I did to her, Mr. Romano.” I said, leaning forward to match his gaze. “I live with guilt every god damn day of my life, and have for the last five years. I’ve sat with this feeling of how I could’ve prevented all of this, I don’t need you reminding me of it.”

His eyes narrow. “Words are cheap, kid. I’ve heard clients spill better sob stories than that.”

“Then don’t listen to my words. Look at my fucking actions.” I threw back, anger clouding my voice. “I’m not who I was five years ago. I’m not playing to get away from her. I stayed out on that damn field because I wanted to win a championship with her. I’m anchoring my life to your daughter, because I don’t see a life where she isn’t in it.”

Slowly, he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. It was almost as if he was trying to find a flaw in what I said.

“She loves you,” Adrian said. “She never stopped. If you break her heart again, Wyatt…I don’t care about your concussion or fucked up ankle, I will make sure you never step foot on a baseball field again.”

“With all due respect sir, I plan on marrying her one day.” I replied instantly.

The kitchen door swung open and Eliana walked back in, her eyes frantically darting between the two of us. She came to my side, sitting next to me and put her hand on my arm.

“Is everything okay here?” she asked, voice quiet.

“Your boyfriend has terrible sliding mechanics, Eliana,” Adrian muttered. “Hopefully he doesn’t bring that into a marriage one day. Hand over the wine.”

She let out a long breath, shoulders sagging with relief. I looked at her, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Glad to see you weren’t murdered.”

“Oh, you came just in time. He was about to slit my throat.” I tease, her eyes widened in surprise. “I’m kidding, baby. I’m kidding.” I kiss her cheek. “It was just going to be a slight poke.”

Chapter 35

Wyatt

THE WORLD FUCKING SERIES.

We made it to the World Series for the second straight year. All the trials and tribulations the team went through this year, this is what made it worth it.

Here we were, playing in the World Series on our home turf. We didn’t get home field advantage last year, but this year? We were kicking off the party in Milwaukee. Playing in front of our home crowd to kick off the World Series has always been something I’ve dreamed of doing.

The rumble of the crowd was electrifying. There was something about a crowd during the playoffs that made it much more exciting to be at the ballpark.

I took it all in for a second as I stood at the top of the dugout steps. I was actually here. I never thought I would be in this position once, let alone twice.

My ankle was wrapped so tightly in medical tape, I’m sure I was cutting the circulation off. My body was pumped full of anti-inflammatories, pain meds, and adrenaline as I got myself ready for Game 1.

I look out to the field where the grounds crew is putting the final touches on the new logos painted near home plate.

I worked so hard all season to get to this point. I suffered injuries, life adjustments, grueling hours of practice to get to this moment.

“Hey.”

I didn’t even need to turn around to know who’s voice that was. Eliana stepped up to the railing beside me, her official World Series media credential slung around her neck. She was wearing a vintage Crafters jacket that was a little oversized on her with a pair of jeans and shoes to match the jacket, her camera bag slung over her shoulder.

“Hi, beautiful,” I mutter, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

“You look like you’re about to run through a brick wall,” she whispered back, her eyes searching mine. She reached up, her fingers running through my hair. “How’s your ankle?”

“Doesn’t exist,” I said, smiling at her. “I’m ready, El.”

She leaned her head against my shoulder just for a second, ignoring all the people looking at us from home base and the visiting dugout. Normally, I would’ve been the one not to allow a public display of affection. But tonight was different. Tonight, I wrapped my arm around her waist and held her flush against me, letting the entire stadium see who I was playing this game for.