Kennedy
“Good evening, Ms. Kay. Welcome home,” the woman working at reception in my overly expensive apartment building greets me. “Are you staying in again tonight? Would you like me to set up a dinner delivery for you?”
With my keys dangling in my hand, I don’t stop to talk as I cross the hall to the elevator. “Not tonight, but thank you! Just grabbing a few things and I’ll be on my way.”
She gives me her best customer service smile. “Of course. Please let us know if you need any assistance with your things.”
“Thank you!” I blurt out just as the doors to the elevator close.
The lobby staff are all kind and over accommodating, which makes sense, seeing as this is one of the most expensive buildings in the city. But I can’t help wondering what they think of me coming in every other day to grab clothes before leaving for Isaiah’s minutes later.
Other than the past few nights Dean has stayed over, I can’t remember the last time I slept here. This place doesn’t feel like home anymore. It never has, I suppose, but especially not now that both Isaiah and his apartment feel like the closest thing I’ve ever felt to home.
Most of my stuff is there, but we haven’t had a conversation about making that a permanent situation. Up until last week, I wasn’t even going to be living in Chicago, let alone with him.
But now, now things are different. Now I’m staying, and neither of us has had the courage to initiate that talk. Now that our little game is over, what are we doing?
And then there’s one more massive conversation we need to have. Something I need to tell him. That I was, in fact, offered the lead doctor position in San Francisco, and I made the decision not to take it.
I had been stewing over the option for days. This offer was everything I had ever wanted, everything I thought I was looking for. A new city with a chance to meet new people. The opportunity to figure out what kind of happiness I could discover with my newfound freedom.
But I didn’t need to go to a new city to find what I’ve been looking for because all these years, it had been right in front of me.
When Isaiah told me he loved me, I knew I had found it. He didn’t say it with an expectation to hear it back. Didn’t say it with the hope it’d change our outcome when that call came in.
But it did.
For the first time in my life, it wasn’t hard to believe that someone could feel that way about me, because he had spent months showing me. His words were simply a reminder of what I already knew.
Isaiah loves me.
So much so that if I would’ve told him that I got the job and turned it down, he wouldn’t have let me stay. So, I didn’t give him that option.
Before him, loneliness was comfortable. It was the only thing I knew. Entertaining myself any way I could find. Trying to convince myself that I was okay with going through life that way. And now I have a chance at a future where maybe I’m not so alone, and I don’t want to mess that up.
So, I turned down the job. For him. But for me too.
I haven’t seen him as much as I’d like the last few days. Atlanta’s team has been in town for the series against the Warriors, and Dean has been staying over at my apartment, but tonight is the night I get to go back to Isaiah’s.
Unlocking the front door of my place, I toss my keys on the entryway table, heading straight for my room. With a duffel bag open on my bed, I pack. Underwear, socks, whatever else I might need, and I take enough with me that I won’t have to come back here for a while.
It’s quiet here, in this massive penthouse with big windows overlooking the city, and marble floors that echo the silence.
I hate it.
I want to be warm in Isaiah’s bed, or hanging out with Miller at family dinner, or listening to the guys give each other shit in the training room.
I want to be somewhere that makes me feel good and it certainly isn’t in this apartment my family owns.
Continuing to pack, I turn on the TV for some background noise, hoping it can drown out the silence until I can get out of here. The station is set to the same one I left it at last night, which is an MLB network that continually runs game highlights throughout the day, peppered in with a bit of commentary from baseball analysts.
That’s what’s on now. Four guys are seated around an arched desk going over the possible outcomes with the looming trade deadline in the league. They speak about the non-playoff-bound teams offloading guys that will reach free agency in the off-season. They go over what some of the playoff- bound teams are looking for.
Then they say a name I never expected to hear.
“This just came across my desk,” one of them says. “And who knows how true it could be, but rumors are circulating that Isaiah Rhodes from the Windy City Warriors is interested in a trade.”
I freeze right there, with a pair of socks dangling in one hand and clean leggings in the other.
“There’s no way that could be true,” another one suggests. “No way would the Warriors let him go. He’s working with a career-high batting average this year, and they’re currently sitting in a fairly secure postseason spot.”
“And he’s playing with his brother.”
“Right. But Kai Rhodes is retiring in the fall, and Isaiah has a player option next season. Maybe he’s looking into different clubs, wanting to get out of Chicago. I doubt he’s going anywhere mid-season, but there’s a possibility he could go somewhere else next year if the right offer came along.”
“Again, nothing is confirmed, but there’s been some noise going around the league over the last twenty-four hours and typically, where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”
I’m stuck frozen in my bedroom. What the hell is going on?
They keep talking on the television screen, but I don’t listen. All I can hear is the ringing in my ears and the doubts creeping in.
He doesn’t want to leave. There’s no way.
And if these rumors are true, why would he want to leave?
All his friends are here. His family. His brother. He loves playing for Monty.
And me.
I stayed here for him.
Shit.
I stayed here for him, but all season, we both thought I’d be leaving. All this time, we knew our marriage was temporary. One day our game would end.
But I stayed, and now he’s trying to go.
Yes, I know Isaiah loves me, but he didn’t sign up for forever. He signed up for now.
So many intrusive thoughts are seeping into my mind and instead of letting myself believe them, I fall onto my bed and pick up the phone to call him.
He doesn’t answer.
I try again, and as it goes through to voicemail, texts begin flooding in.
Miller: What the hell is going on?
Kai: Where’s Isaiah? He’s not answering.
Cody: Are those rumors true?
Miller: Kai is freaking out.
Travis: Have you heard about what’s going on?
Kai: Ken, I need you to tell my brother to call me right now. He’s not answering his phone.
My hand is shaking as I read the incoming messages. Clearly, there’s enough truth behind what was said that even his brother knows something is wrong.
I think I might throw up. And why the hell isn’t he answering his phone?
I go to call him again when there’s a knock at my front door. I’m off my bed and jogging to swing it open, knowing exactly who I’m going to find on the other side.
