Page 85 of Meant for Mayhem

I’d just stopped saying it out loud.

18

Friday rolled around before I knew it, and two home games were under my belt with no panic attack in sight.

Since I knew Shannon and Leena were in the building, maybe I shouldn’t have turned to look for them as often during last night’s game, but I couldn’t seem to help it. Not when every time I looked up, my girls were cheering me on.

Today was our first travel day with the team, and this was a different test. I packed enough diapers and snacks to survive a month instead of a few nights, plus my own travel necessities. Leena spent the morning babbling in the living room while Shannon shoved my daughter’s favorite toys into a carry-on.

Everything that had sent me into a panic a month ago had been solved, so naturally, my brain had found something new to worry about.

Shannon was quieter than usual after Tuesday night.

Not distant.

Not angry.

Just quieter.

She still smiled at lunch when Leena smeared yogurt across my shirt. She still showed up at my game, not quite wearing Yeti gear, but color-coordinated enough to know she’d done it on purpose. Still wedged herself into the corner of the couch each night with a book.

But I couldn’t seem to let go of the fact that she seemed distracted, like part of her mind was somewhere else entirely.

It went against everything Kevin and I talked about daily, but still my mind jumped to conclusions, telling me that this was my fault.

I kept my hands to myself after last night’s game. Made sure I made it in the shower before I moaned her name again. But maybe the damage was already done.

It wasn’t like I could apologize for showing her how hard I was. I wasn’t even sure I was sorry about it—only about making her uncomfortable.

If she’d heard me.

But maybe she hadn’t.

Surely she had?

Before I let myself spiral into thoughts that I’d already ruined whatever was going on between us, Kevin’s voice rang through my head.

Feelings aren’t facts.

So, what were the facts?

Shannon hadn’t said anything, and she didn’t shy away from difficult conversations.

She wasn’t avoiding me, not when she sat in the living room every night instead of in her own bedroom.

So was I making it up?

As if summoned by my thoughts, she walked into the kitchen with Leena balanced on one hip. “I think we’re packed. You’re sure it’s okay if we bring the stroller?”

The words were normal, not any different than a thousand other conversations we’d had over the last month, but still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

When I didn’t answer, she looked up at me, and it was the first time I noticed how tired she looked. Like maybe all of this was asking too much of her.

“Do you want to quit?” I asked, shocked that the words had left my mouth. “Us, I mean. Not your job.”

Shannon jerked her head back. “What? No. Why would you think that?”

“Because I…” I was a grown-ass man, and I couldn’t even finish the sentence without turning bright red. “Made things weird. After the game on Tuesday.”