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I went to his house one day when I got fed up with his heated glares every single time I met his eyes or turned my back. I did what any sensible man would do: I arrived at his house with a box of beers for Noah and flowers for Mia, knowing—hoping—she would let me in when he closed the door right in my face, and she did.
So we watched a game of baseball. It was easier to discuss the game and come up with strategies, sharing different opinions and finally coming to common ground. I apologized for dating his daughter without his permission and for breaking her heart.
He said it wasn’t his place to forgive me but he had no issue with me, he was just standing by her side because she was his princess. Well, for the time being, sure, but soon enough she would be my queen.
Mia came back down with her photo album and dream album, which I wasn’t sure I should be looking at since Naomi wasn’t there, but with Noah’s permission, I got to look through the albums. He explained a few of the photos. Mia was the one who opened her dream album first, and that was where I got the idea of the house I had Daniel design for me.
It wasn’t easy to find land in Chicago, but we did: a bit far from both our families’ places, and I was glad because I didn’t want them randomly drop in and say they came to visit us. I wanted Naomi all to myself for as long as I could.
I saw everything, from her dream job, dream wedding, dream house and dream husband. I have to say, I didn’t quite meet the standard she had there—Montgomery Clift—but was I better than him? Fuck yeah, and were my qualities better than his? Absolutely yes, so she got more than she dreamed of!
When I got home, I asked her if she liked cowboys, and she responded with a question mark. I was happy she had responded to my texts and bought a cowboy outfit—one of the many ways I was going to seduce her when we officially got back together.
But what was she doing, watching such boring old movies? No wonder she didn’t like the action comedy we were watching at that time. If only I had taken my time to get to know her instead of presuming I knew her.
However, now I knew better, and I was doing absolutely better.
After warm-up, the coach called us out into the field, which many of us were not expecting including myself, but I went regardless. He was pushing us more because we were the last team that would be playing in the MLB seasonal game that would qualify us into the World Series, and he wanted us to give it our all.
As I said before, his threats were very motivational.
Chapter 29
Alexander
The day was finally here. The final seasonal game to qualify us into the World Series. We had come so far. Of course, since it was the final game, they had to go all out. We were playing the final match in Comiskey Park. The crowd was already cheerful and the metal halide lights were bright, creating such a lively mood in the arena.
I stood in the center of the field, practicing my pitches with my catcher, Theodore. We weren't close before, but he was a great catcher, and I was able to achieve many strikes along with him. Ever since I started going to therapy, though, I had become much closer with him, and I understood him better than I used to.
There had to be mutual trust between a pitcher and a catcher; before, I was never that considerate with my throws, however Theo was good enough to catch them regardless of how hard I pitched.
I’m not saying I’ll weaken my throws to be respectful of him—doing that would only prove that I don’t trust him as a catcher. Hence, tonight I was prepared to give it my all.
“Your shoulder warmed up?” Leo asked as he rolled his neck, stretching his arms before him.
“Yeah.” I nodded as I caught the ball Theo threw to me. He ran toward me with a small smile, and I eagerly clasped his hand, hugging him. “We’re good?”
“Ready, man,” he chuckled as he hit Leo’s hand enthusiastically, jogging over to the home base.
“Let’s do this.” Leo gently slapped my back, and I took a deep breath as I stood on the pitcher's mound. The game was about to begin, and all the anxiety I used to feel before was nonexistent. Right now, all I could think of was how excited I was to play my last game.
It was quite sad that tonight was my last game, and I hoped we’d be able to enter the World Series even though I wouldn’t play. Even if we didn’t win tonight's game, I just hoped everyone would have fun tonight.
Pulling my cap down just a bit and making sure it sat snug and fit around my head, I leveled the ground with my foot and watched as the brown dirt spoiled the toe cap of my shoes. Taking in a deep breath again, I relaxed my muscles and got into position as I watched the first batter walk up to the home plate.
Michael Harper—he wasn’t the best batter they had but he was quite good. He had a few home runs under his belt, but that was because he was still quite young and ran like the wind. Regardless, he had never played against us since he joined the Major League last year.
Noah had forced us to do research on the players we’d be playing against tonight, along with the coach. He warned us of things to look out for and planned many strategic plays. Did I think it was worth it?
I have no comment on it; I just want to play.
“Play ball!” the umpire shouted, and I raised my left knee as I shifted my right foot into the correct footing, pitching the ball with at least 85 miles-per-hour force. I watched as the ball spun into the strike zone and Theo caught it.
Michael had not even bothered to swing his bat—and not to toot my horn, but how could he have? After all, I was his pitcher. “Strike!” the umpire along with the crowd roared, and their lively claps only fueled my desire to play this game and get my 3 strikes from Michael Harper.
Dear Lord, make this happen for me.
Breathing out a long breath, I watched as Michael hit the bat on the ground. He must be getting ready to swing this time around. I pitched the ball once he raised his bat; the ball made contact with the metal bat, and Michael ran like there was no tomorrow.
