The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game #1) - Page 35/42

I shrugged my shoulders and leaned toward him. “She asked me not to get married tomorrow.”

“She flew all the way out here to ask you that? She could’ve just called.” I watched as Dean eyed the second-story window where my bedroom was. His eyes searched for something before landing back on mine.

I laughed. “I told her the same thing.”

“That sucks.” Dean shook his head. “I know this is killing her.”

I felt my face tighten with his words. “I’m pretty sure it’s killing both of us.”

“Then why are you doing it? I mean, don’t do it. Don’t marry Chrystle.” I knew it was hard for Dean to be supportive of my marriage to Chrystle, but sometimes his irritation with me bubbled over, like now.

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

“Look, I get why you’re doing it. I just wish you wouldn’t. I know you still love Cassie.”

My eyes narrowed and I clenched my jaw. “Of course I fucking love Cassie. But I cheated on her and got someone else pregnant. I’ll spend the rest of my life loving the one person I can’t have. That’s my punishment for hurting her.”

Dean squinted as he shook his head. “What kind of fucked-up logic is that?”

“The only kind of logic I can live with. My pain is my punishment. I brought it on myself. I deserve to hurt since I hurt her. And I don’t deserve to have her after what I did.”

“You’re seriously whacked. You know that, right? You could be with Cassie right now if you wanted to!” Dean whisper-shouted to me harshly.

I breathed in and out through my nose, refocusing my thoughts. “I can’t.”

Dean stood up, shoving the chair out from under him before leaning close to my face. “You’re still hurting her. Every day you aren’t with her, you’re hurting her. And following through with this stupid wedding is probably going to fucking ruin her!”

He went back into the house and slammed the sliding glass door shut with a thwack. I replayed the conversation in my mind, convincing myself that he was wrong about one thing. Eventually Cassie would heal and get over me. She’d find someone new to love…someone who deserved her.

But me? I’d never find another girl like her. And I’d never love anyone the way I love her. My pain would last a lifetime and hers would one day become a distant memory.

The church was a combination of newly updated renovations mixed with the original structure built in the early eighteen hundreds. I had no idea that the tall building I drove past on the way to the ball field was an actual church until Chrystle forced me inside one day.

It honestly looked like an oversized mausoleum from the outside. But once you walked through those massive doors, it was a different story. Maybe it was the impressive stained glass windows that guided you down the aisle. Or the white and black swirled marble staircase. Whatever it was, I found myself understanding why people found comfort here.

The pews filled up quickly with my teammates and Chrystle’s family and friends. I stood at one side of the altar with Dean next to me, and Chrystle’s best friend, Vanessa, waited at the other. The large white doors opened as organ music filtered from the enormous pipes.

Chrystle appeared in a skintight white dress, the fabric hugging every inch of her body as her smiling father walked her down the aisle. What a fucking sham. He had to know this wasn’t real. If I had a daughter, I’d never let her marry some schmuck who didn’t even love her.

I wanted to throw up. Beads of sweat began to accumulate behind my neck as my heart started pounding. Dean leaned over and whispered, “We can still leave,” and I actually considered it. My stomach flipped as I struggled to hold back the sickness that threatened.

What was I doing? This should be Cassie walking down the aisle toward me. I shouldn’t be marrying this girl. I don’t love her. Hell, I can barely stand her. The mere idea of spending every day with her made me want to vanish into thin air.

I imagined having the power of invisibility and how freaked out everyone would be if I suddenly disappeared. Poof, gone. The crying and screaming that would overwhelm the church. Some would insist that demons took me. Or that maybe I was the demon. I forced back a laugh as I glanced toward Vanessa who eyed me, her expression wicked.

I glimpsed back at Chrystle just as she placed her free hand on her stomach and rubbed it with a smile, as if reading my mind. I swallowed my broken laugh and remembered why I was standing there in the first place. I had an obligation to my unborn child. A duty as a father.

I couldn’t wouldn’t leave my baby. I would follow through with this because it was the right thing to do. My kid deserved a family that was whole, not broken, not incomplete, not separated. He deserved to grow up in a house with a mom and a dad who loved him. I refused to be the reason why he switched houses depending on the day of the week and I was unwilling to only see him on those days. Kids should grow up with their family and I wouldn’t abandon mine.

I forced a smile as she neared, a part of me suffocating with each step. She looked pretty, but all I saw when I looked at her was the reason I’d lost the one thing I ever loved. I glanced at Dean, his face pained behind the happiness he faked, as Chrystle sidled up next to me. The preacher read vows and we repeated them to each other, my heart slowing with each word until I was certain it would stop beating altogether and I’d drop dead.

Couldn’t everyone in the room tell I wasn’t in love with the girl standing next to me?

I felt hollow. Empty. Devoid of all emotion as I said, “I do,” when I really wanted to shout, “Hell no, I don’t!”

The words, “You may now kiss your bride,” echoed in my mind as Chrystle’s grin widened. I leaned in to give her a peck, refusing to close my eyes, but she grabbed the back of my neck with both hands and refused to let me go. I pulled against her tight grip as my temper flared.

“That’s enough,” I whispered through a tight smile.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Jack Carter,” the preacher shouted with enthusiasm, and I pulled at my tie, willing its chokehold to loosen.

“You okay?” Dean leaned in with a whisper.

“I gave up being okay the day I lost Cassie,” I admitted, Chrystle’s hand gripping mine as she pulled me from the altar.

NINETEEN

After the wedding Chrystle wanted to buy a house, insisting that our child needed a neighborhood and a backyard in order to be truly happy. We fought for weeks over it, until I finally got it through her thick skull that we weren’t going to live in Alabama forever.

“I can get moved up or traded at any time, Chrystle! Then we’ll have to move right away. It doesn’t make any sense to buy a house here when we’re most likely not staying,” I shouted, trying but failing to hold back my temper.

“But I want to live here in the off-season. Don’t you?” she cried.

“Hadn’t planned on it.” I longed to feel any emotion for the tears she shed, but couldn’t find it in me.

“You’re not even trying.”

I released an exasperated sigh. “What are you talking about?”

“This marriage. Us. You’re not even trying, Jack. I deserve for you to try.” She stomped her foot on the floor. “I’m carrying your child. We both deserve for you to try.”

There was the emotion I so desperately needed. Guilt. Welcome home, old friend. “You’re right. I’ll try harder,” I promised, and she cried again.

“Sorry. Being pregnant makes me really emotional.” She wiped at her face with the back of her hand and I reluctantly pulled her into my arms.

I walked through the front door carrying my baseball gear before I shouted, “Chrystle? I’m back!”

I refused to say that I was home because Cassie was my home. But I’d lost that, and her, forever, so I’d never truly be home again.

“I’m up here,” she shouted from upstairs, her voice sounding odd.

“Are you okay?” I yelled before craning my neck to hear her response. “Chrystle?” I yelled again, dropping my bags with a thud.

I could make out the soft sounds of crying as I rushed up the stairs to our bedroom. Chrystle was curled into a ball surrounded by pillows and used-up tissues. While no feelings existed for the woman I was married to, my feelings for what grew inside of her were immeasurable.

“What’s wrong? What happened? Is the baby okay?” I asked, overwhelmed with worry.

“Oh, Jack.” She broke down into tears. “I lost the baby this morning.”

My stomach dropped and on its way down it grabbed a hold of my heart. “What? What happened?”

“The doctor said it’s common. I woke up and started bleeding really bad. I was so scared.” She threw herself into my arms and sobbed against my chest.

Devastation ripped through me. Somewhere along the way I’d grown used to the idea of being a father. I’d made plans and looked forward to a future that no longer existed.

There was no more baby. I brushed under my eye and stared at Chrystle’s stomach, resting my hand there.

“I can’t believe I lost our baby. I’m so sorry. All I wanted was our baby. Our child.” She looked up at me through her tears.

“I know. Me too,” I admitted as a tear escaped my eye. “Can I get you anything? Do you want some water or something?”

“I’m okay. Where are you going?” She clung to my shirt as I climbed to my feet.

“I’m just going downstairs to grab a drink. I’ll be right back, okay?”

She nodded and I flew from the room, my emotions taking over. I hopped over the last two stairs before rushing into the tiny bathroom and slamming the door shut. I fell to the floor, my head falling between my legs as I grieved for the child I’d lost.

My chest heaved with pain before a sliver of hope crept in.

You can leave Chrystle now.

Get a divorce and go fix things with Cassie.

Spend your life making it up to her.

Relief washed over me, quickly followed by guilt, my new best friend. How could I feel relief at a time like that? This isn’t the time to find happiness. What the fuck was wrong with me?

I steadied my heartbeat before pushing my body up from the floor. I poured a glass of water, grabbed some headache medicine, and slowly crept back up the stairs.

“Let’s make another baby, Jack.”

Her request caught me off guard. “What?”

“Make love to me,” she begged.

“No,” I told her staunchly, the very idea made me want to punch something. I hated the relief I felt, but the truth was, I’d just dodged a bullet. I wasn’t about to load the gun again.

“Why not? Now that we’re not having a baby, you’re going to leave me? I can see the headlines now…‘Jack Carter Leaves Heartbroken Wife After She Loses Baby.’”

I winced. “Calm down, Chrystle.”

“Say you won’t leave. I can’t handle you leaving on top of what I already lost.” She sobbed, her face flushed.