Page 78 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
“Seb, let’s go,” Joe says, motioning me over to where a squadron of police are now standing.
“Ride back with us,” I say to Dad.
“Your mom’s waiting for me upstairs. Just get to Sophie. We’ll see you back at the hotel.”
* * *
When I walk into Sophie’s suite, her parents are sitting on the couch in the living room surrounded by suitcases.
“Hey,” I say, eyeing the suitcases. One of them is the bright pink hardshell case I bought Sophie for her birthday. “What’s going on? Where’s Sophie?”
Bob nods toward the closed bedroom door but doesn’t say anything.
“Is she okay? Dad said they just threw a beer on her.”
“Just?” Deb asks, jumping up. Bob grabs her arm. “One of your fans threw a beer in my daughter’s face and you’re saying ‘just’?”
“No, not just,” I say, stuttering. “Not like that. But she’s not hurt, right?”
“Not physically.” Bob stands up and pulls Deb toward the door. “Tell Sophie we’ll be right outside when she’s ready to leave.”
“What do you mean ‘leave’?”
Deb starts to say something, but Bob puts his hand up. “No more, Deb. This is between them.”
When they leave, I walk over to the bedroom and crack the door open. The room is pitch black.
“Soph?”
No reply. I flip on the lights. She’s lying on the bed—fully dressed—staring at the ceiling.
I walk over and grab her hand. “Baby, are you okay? Are you hurt?”
She shifts her eyes to me but doesn’t move any other part of her body. “I’m not hurt.”
I sit on the bed next to her and put my hand on her forehead. “Are you sick? Do you have a migraine?”
“I’m not sick. I’m just . . . I’m . . .” She sits up so quickly that it makes me jump. “God, Seb, I’m fucking exhausted. By all of this. People yelling at me, grabbing me, throwing things on me. The media saying I’m the reason you aren’t playing well. It’s too much. I can’t deal with it anymore. I’m going back to Miami tonight.”
“Okay,” I say, stroking her arm. She pulls it away from me. “Baby, let’s go home. I’m coming with you.”
“You’re not leaving.” She crawls off the bed and walks into the bathroom to get her purse. “Just me. I’m going back with my parents. I need some time alone. I can’t do it anymore, Seb. I’m going home.”
“What can’t you do?” I jump off the bed and grab her shoulders. “Sophie. Answer me. What can’t you do? Watch my games? Be married to me? What?”
She shakes her head and tries to get around me.
“Sophie,” I say, hugging her to me. “Stop. Answer me.”
“Let me go.” She pushes at my chest.
I release her just enough so she can look up at me. “Not yet. Answer my question.”
She takes a deep breath. “I love you, Seb, but I need to take care of myself right now. It’s too much. I’m so stressed out. I’ll see you on Saturday when you get back and we can talk some more.”
I take in a sharp breath and hold it. I’m almost afraid to let it out.
“Talk about what?” I finally whisper as the air seeps out of my mouth.
