Page 65 of Embers in the Outfield

“River looks at you with so much love in his eyes. I’m so happy for you, Kennedy,” she says, and my stomach does a little flip when I hear that four-letter word.

I can’t think of what to say, so I smile back, feeling like I can’t wait until we say those words to one another. As much as what I said in my doorway when we reconnected was confessions of love, I haven’t actually said those three little words together. I’ve nearly let it slip about twenty times since we decided to go all-in for this relationship.

I’ve thought of being the first to say it plenty of times, yet I keep stopping myself. And the longer I wait, the more I’m holding back because after everything that did go on between us, a part of me wants to hear him say it first. Is it childish? Probably. Do I care? Apparently not.

If I know River the way I think I do, he’s waiting for me to cave and say it first. It’s just the way we work. I can feel it in the way he looks at me, the way he steals glances much like he’s doing tonight, and his eyes tell me he feels the same way my heart does—full of love.

I hear the cheers in the background, and it pulls my focus back to the players on the field. We need Brett to strike Andrews out, and we will need a miracle to pull this off. Andrews is the Stars’ best player, and he has shown up with a vengeance at every game this season; tonight is no different.

The moment Brett begins his windup and releases the ball, I can tell all of us are holding our breath. The pitch is delivered, and Andrews takes a swing at the pitch and misses. The cheers are instantaneous, and I mentally tell myself just two more strikes. That’s all we need to get us that win.

Brett throws a fastball, and we see another strike cause an eruption in the crowd. I’m holding onto my aunt’s hand, probably cutting off circulation.

Brett shakes his head at his catcher, probably not liking whatever sign is being tossed at him. Finally, he gives an assuring nod, and I see the determination in his glare. Right then, I bring my hands together in front of me, letting a little prayer go up that this gets us to the next step of the playoffs.

The moment the ball is released, I watch it as if it’s in slow motion. I hear the swing of that bat, and all that it catches is air. Like a miracle from above, it’s another out, and that one moment signifies the end of the game. The players rush the field as if this were the winning game of the season; however, it’s simply a significant one to ensure they move on to the next round.

We’re screaming, throwing our hands in the air, and soaking in this feeling of relief and victory. River pulls me into a huge embrace, and I can’t help the screams I’m letting out. The significance of this win is exponential, and I know the players needed this to move forward with their heads held high.

All of a sudden, I hear the crowd making noise, and when I look over, I see them pointing to something in the middle of the field. It takes a second to register what’s happening, butthat’s when I see one of my players, number thirty-three, Garrett Nelson, on one knee, his girlfriend standing in front of him with her hands covering her mouth and nose. I can’t see the details of her face, but I can only imagine her eyes are welling with tears.

I tap River to look over, and I stand there in awe. I am a sucker for proposals. I always have been. Something about that moment feels so raw and so pure between a couple. This time is no different.

The moment she says yes, I start to scream again, my heart soaring for the newly engaged couple. I catch River looking at me and then at the couple kissing and embracing in the middle of the field.

“I didn’t take you for a softy with engagements, Skipper,” he taunts, and I smack him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, well, I guess you have a lot more to learn about me, huh?” I toss back, and he throws his head back and lets out a big laugh. I smile at him, feeling like even if the words haven’t been said to one another yet, my heart loves this man in front of me. If we weren’t so stubborn about keeping from being the first to say it, I think I would belt it out now. But I keep my mouth shut, waiting for that moment when it feels right.

Later that night, we get ready for bed, Lola panting by our side, circling her dog bed until it feels right, and then plops down. Meanwhile, I pull the bedding back for River and me to get into bed. The moment I lay myself down on my side, I feel River’s arm hug my middle and tug me back against him.

I instantly feel warm and comfortable. He moves his kisses from my head down to my neck, nuzzling me and breathing me in.

Since River and I reconnected, Lola has been a welcome addition to the mix. She even spends the night with me when River’s pulling his shifts at the station. We’ve definitely movedforward without a hitch since that night, and I can’t say I’m upset about it.

My mind begins to drift to earlier tonight, and I feel my heart flutter a bit in my chest. It’s hard for me to think back to that proposal tonight and not let my mind wander to possibilities between River and me. I never really saw myself getting married, but now that I have this man by my side, my mind gravitates to that possibility in our future. A soft smile takes over my features as I feel my eyes get heavy, and I finally doze off, thinking of the man holding me and giving me everything.

* * *

The car feels smaller, and at first, I don’t understand how that’s so. But I look down, my legs longer than they were the day of the crash. It takes me a moment to realize I’m an adult in this version of the nightmare. I bring my hands up in front of me, my nails done as they usually are, and my outfit similar to the ones I use to go into the office.

I look out the window, and the scenery is the same as the neighborhood we were driving through that morning though. I’m living my dream in the same way; however, I’m grown up this time around. It takes a minute, and then I swing my gaze to the front of the car and realize there is only one body behind the wheel. I yell for my dad to look over, waiting for a glimpse of his face like I always do when I’m pulled back to that day.

The body is shifting to change the radio station, but when the person looks back, I feel like all the air in my lungs is nonexistent.

“River, what are you doing here?” I feel myself saying, panic laced in my words.

“What do you mean? I’m driving you to school,” he says in a tone that makes me feel small and silly.

Why is River in this car? I’m trying to think of something to say when all of a sudden, it dawns on me that everything happening in this moment mimics that morning, except the wrong person is in the car with me.

I look around me, trying to snap myself out of this new version of hell. I feel like I live this day on repeat when I close my eyes, but today, my anxiety feels crippling. As horrible as that day was to live through, I still knew what was happening when I’d be pulled back into the nightmare.

But now I feel lost. I look out the window and recognize where we are. We’re passing that part of the street where the other car goes through the stop sign at a speed that took everything from me.

I try to warn River to slow down, to look to his right, but I open my mouth, and it’s too late. I feel the force of the impact, and everything goes black.

My eyes open in a state of pure horror, pulling me from the memory, my body shaking and the tears streaming down my face.

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