Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“There’s nothing wrong with missing her. Or with being sad. You’re sad because you loved her, and because you had great memories to miss.”
“Do you still miss Emily?”
“I’ll always miss Emily. She’s a part of me.” He took a sip of his milkshake, his arm tightening a little around my waist. “Like you.”
I looked up at him, my face scrunching in disbelief. “Like me?”
“Yeah.” He looked down at me, and there was a moment. One of those where everything stopped, where I saw dots of streetlights reflecting in his eyes, the tickle of my hair across my face, the warmth of his breath against my lips. I looked in his eyes and believed that I was a part of him. Just as I believed when he said he loved me. I believed it because I understood it. I understood it because I felt it too. “Come on.” He pulled, swinging me around and nudging me in the opposite direction, away from the street. “Let’s go.”
“I hated Baltimore, but only because you weren’t there. And now…” He ran both hands over the top of his head. “I’ll hate New York because you are here. How fucked up is that?”
I said nothing, picking up my purse from the floor. “Don’t touch me again, Chase.”
“I can’t promise you that. You aren’t a girl anymore, Ty. It was hard enough to keep my hands to myself then.”
I opened the door, and glanced back, memorizing the lines of his face, the clench of his jaw, the burn of his eyes. I gave myself one final drink. “Try.”
Then, I stepped back into my world and closed the door.
“The second girl died on October 3rd, 2012. April McIntosh. She worked at a deli right around the corner from the stadium. Left work that Wednesday afternoon, and just disappeared. They found her a few days later, when a construction dumpster started to smell. She’d been a troubled girl. Got around a lot, partied a lot, that kind of girl. Had a Yankee pendant around her neck, a nice piece. Gold and diamonds. But like I said, nobody noticed things like that back then. Not the timing, not the Yankee connection. Not ’til Julie Gavin’s death, in 2013, did they connect those dots. Not that it was a stretch. Her death was a damn flashing billboard. Anyone who missed that didn’t deserve to carry a badge.”
Dan Velacruz, New York Times
73
“Smartest decision I ever made.” Tobey bent over, kissing me square on the lips, then reached and clapped Dick on the back. “You were right, Ty. God, were you right.”
Dick cleared his throat with a smile. “Smartest decision I ever made. Let’s not forget who picked this golden boy.”
I sat between them helplessly, staring at the field, the seventh inning beginning, the stadium lights illuminating the truth so bright it hurt my eyes. Chase had gotten better. I’d avoided any mention, any highlight of him in the past four years. I’d boycotted Orioles games, inventing a lifelong hatred of them as my excuse. I’d stopped watching ESPN purely to avoid the mention of his name. And now, with his perfect body encased in our jersey, I had seen everything I’d missed. His footwork. His arm. His bat. Two homeruns already. Five different plays that had made Tobey swear in excitement. Solid grounding, incredible focus, and the speed of an eighteen-year-old rookie. No wonder he had dominated the MVP ranks. No wonder Dick had ignored Tobey’s fifty million dollar number and gone to seventy. I was shocked the Orioles gave him up.
“Fine, you get the credit.” Tobey laughed. “But don’t let him go. Ever. I don’t care if he smuggles drugs on the off-season, he’s retiring a Yankee, got it?”
What if he fucks your wife, Tobey? The question rang so loudly through my head that I brought my hand to my mouth, worried it’d slipped out.
“Are you okay?” Tobey bent over me, concerned. Always concerned. Always caring. I felt the true urge to vomit and pushed myself to my feet.
“Excuse me,” I said quickly, with a tight smile. He let me pass, worry in his eyes.
I didn’t vomit. My body didn’t allow me that reaction of guilt. I dry heaved into the toilet, wanting it, hoping it would ease some part of what I did, but my stomach stayed calm, the step away from Tobey’s love all that it had needed.
I could not be this woman—a cheater. Not to this man who loved me so much. Not to this man who had given me everything.
I opened the skybox vanity kit and took out a fresh toothbrush and paste. After brushing, I stepped out and back into place next to Tobey, the seventh inning stretch beginning, the stadium swaying before us in harmonic concert.
“You know how the seventh inning stretch began?” Chase spoke quietly next to me, his arm resting on the dugout rail, his eyes on the field, “God Bless America” floating down and over the dugout roof.