Page 87 of Wild Pitch
Her fury at Luc was unsurpassed. Where before she had only been cautious, she now hated him.
“Has he even checked in on you?”
“Lil, it’s good to have a clean break. Staying friends would have made it hurt worse.”
“I can’t believe he doesn’t want anything to do with his baby.”
“Lily, he doesn’t know.”
She gave me a stern look. “You didn’t tell him?”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m blocked.”
“Oh, please, Kylie. We were born with cell phones in our hands. You can’t expect me to believe that you don’t know a way around being blocked? I mean, my phone isn’t blocked.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I wanted to see if he would reach out on his own.”
The tears fell, and I cried. I still cry daily, far better than the hourly crying jags I experienced when Luc first left.
My therapist had explained that it was grief. Grief wasn’t only when people died. The grief we felt when people we loved left our lives by choice was sometimes even worse than when they died. I couldn’t imagine ever getting to the point where I accepted what had happened.
I checked myself out in the mirror. At 12 weeks pregnant, there wasn’t much of a baby bump, and I had yet to feel the baby move—all normal, according to the baby books.
Morning sickness didn’t plague my first trimester; I only experienced a few bouts of nausea when I smelled something I didn’t like. The worst symptom was exhaustion, and while being able to sleep had been a welcome relief, vivid dreams always brought Luc to me, and along with that, an almost crippling sadness.
My dream the night before had me arriving at his house, but it was mine. A toddler sat in a highchair and smashed bright orange mashed food into the tray. Another small child bounced a ball off the wall, and Luc stood in the middle of the chaos,beaming. When I woke, I tried to fall back to sleep and immerse myself in that version of life again.
Later that afternoon, I woke from a nap and found a missed call from Luc. He’d left a message, but when I listened, it was only a brief silence before he disconnected the phone.
Kelsey had already mentioned that the team would be back in town in a few days, preparing for their home opener. With their return, the chance that I would run into Luc increased. While I had always loved that we lived so close to one another, living in the same neighborhood might make it hard to avoid him.
My heart dropped at the thought of him seeing me pregnant with his child and turning his back on us. And maybe that’s why I didn’t call him. Easier on my heart to assume the rejection than to have it confirmed.
Kelsey: I’ve got tickets for the entire family for the home opener.
Fuck. There was no way around it. I thought back to the first game I went to with Kelsey. I managed to avoid Luc then, so I could do the same for this game too.
Me: Is Kenny going to sit with us?
Kelsey: She’ll probably be in the corporate box, but she’ll come down at some point.
Me: Ok. Let me know where and when, and I’ll meet you.
Deep breaths. Practicing the tools I learned in therapy, I prepared myself for the reality that I would see Luc at the game on Tuesday afternoon.
Days after I found out I was pregnant, I went to my first prenatal appointment. I filled out the paperwork, leaving thefather’s family history blank, and listed my mother as my emergency contact. When they offered an ultrasound, I watched the screen and stared at the bean there, wondering how something so small had already turned my life upside-down.
When Luc’s number appeared on my phone, I wanted to send the call to voicemail—to block him. I couldn’t. But I also couldn’t get a single word out when I answered the phone. I sat in silence.
“Ky—”
His voice shook, and was it pain? What did I hear when he said my name?
“Hi.”
“Are you okay?”
Did he know? Had Kelsey said something when she was in Florida?
