Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Prisha nodded.
“And I’ve been so hard on myself, wondering how I could have gotten him so wrong. But the thing is . . . I know what I felt. I know we had that connection. And I know we could have been good together if he could get over his fear.”
“What’s he afraid of?”
I’d thought this through a million times. “What it comes down to, I think, is that he grew up believing baseball was all he had to offer the world. And when he suddenly couldn’t offer it anymore, he shut down. He couldn’t forgive himself. It’s like he believes deep down he needs to be punished for failing the game or his fans or his father—even the media! He hates the headlines and the speculation about him, but the reason it bothers him so much is that he believes it. So he’s afraid to let himself be happy. Find love. Find acceptance. He doesn’t think he deserves it. And I couldn’t convince him otherwise.”
“April, it wasn’t your job to convince him otherwise. He has to reach that place on his own.”
“I know.” I felt a deluge of tears coming. “I just wanted to be able to help.”
“Of course. You care for him.”
I nodded, fighting the sob trying to get out. “And it’s hard for me to accept that he’s gone, but I have to.”
Prisha waited for me to compose myself, nudging the tissue box closer to me. I thanked her, took a few deep breaths, and blew my nose. “Sorry. I’m okay. I think.”
Smiling sympathetically, she checked her notes. “Tell me how things are moving along with your biological son.”
“Chip.” My stomach jumped, and I put a hand over it. “We’re meeting on Saturday at his house. Three o’clock.”
“Are you scared? Excited? All of the above?”
“All of the above, definitely,” I said, laughing nervously. “But I have realistic expectations. I know that meeting him might not provide immediate relief from all my adoption guilt or solve all my intimacy issues, but I’m hoping that over time, knowing him is part of my journey to being happy.”
She smiled. “I have a feeling you’re going to meet those expectations, and then some. You should be very proud of yourself, April. You’ve shown a lot of courage and strength. You took exactly the kind of risk that’s necessary for real intimacy, and I think you experienced it, even if it didn’t end the way you’d hoped.”
I sniffed and smiled sadly. “Yeah.”
“And was it worth the risk?”
I was tempted to say no. To say I wished Tyler Shaw had never set foot back in this town. To say I’d have been better off if I could just erase the last month from my life. But deep down, I didn’t feel that way.
He might have let me down hard, but Tyler Shaw had shown me I was capable of letting someone in.
“Yes,” I said. “It was worth the risk.”
I walked out of Prisha’s office feeling a little better. She always asked the tough questions and could sometimes make harsh observations when I was trying to avoid something, but she gave beautiful compliments too. She strengthened my courage, my confidence, and my compassion.
And in the next five minutes, I’d need all three.
Because when I pulled up at home, sitting there on my front porch was none other than Tyler Shaw.
I knew it was him right away. Besides the ridiculously tall and commanding body, who else put those butterflies in my belly? Made my breath get stuck in my lungs? Set my pulse on high alert? He watched me put the car in park and came to open the driver’s side door.
My heart was hammering away, and I was almost afraid to stand up for fear my legs would buckle. But then I remembered what Prisha had said. I could do this.
I got out of the car and looked up at him. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses for once. Or a hat. I could see his eyes and his expression clearly, and he looked . . . happy?
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He pushed the car door shut behind me. “Can I come in?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Please, April.” He went to take my hand, but I pulled it away. “Sorry. I get it—I won’t touch you, I promise. I just want to talk.”
“About what?” I said. “You made your point ten days ago. I heard it loud and clear when you walked out the door.”
He nodded. “I know. But I think I was wrong.”
My eyebrows jerked up. “You think?” Immediately I started walking toward my front door.
“April, wait!” He ran ahead of me, hopping up onto my porch and spreading his arms out, like I wasn’t allowed on it. “I’m sorry. You were always better than me at putting my thoughts into words. And I’m still working things out in my head. But I—I have something I need to say to you.” He frowned. “I just don’t know exactly what it is yet.”