Page 79 of The Score We Never Settled

“Lettin’ out a few chickens and?—”

“Now you’re condonin’ his actions and think it’s okay for him to go out of his way and make more work for other people?” He shoves his chair back and stares at me like I’ve failed him for most of my life. That I’ve, somehow, turned into someone he doesn’t know anymore. “I taught you better than that, and if you’re gonna sit here and try to explain to me why that’s okay, then you need to sit down and take a look at what you’re sayin’. That boy decided to go against my word and go after my niece after I’ve made it perfectly clear that she was off-limits. Now, you’re gonna tell me what, Layla Jean? That ya love him? I know you’re a grown woman, but you’ve worked hard at what you have. He’s a professional baseball player with women around him all the time. So, what do you think he’s been doin’ this whole time? Stayin’ faithful? If he told you yes, then maybe you’re a bigger fool than ya thought ya were. Because there’s no holdin’ that boy down. And there ain’t no womanherethat’s gonnado that. He left for a reason, money for his family, but that’s handled now, from what I hear. So where is he? Still playin’. So, ask yourself, Layla…he loves you so much, why did he stay away?”

“Because,” I mutter, feeling absolutely defeated. “I told him to.”

His face tightens, and I see his jaw tick once before he turns on his heels and walks away.

He’s never left mid-conversation on me before, and in his defense, I should’ve knocked this out a long time ago so he could sit on it for all the years that have passed.

Nonetheless, he still would hold his grudges.

He’d still dislike everything Briggs says or does.

He still wouldn’t support it.

And that, to me, was and used to be everything.

21

BRIGGS

If one more person approaches mytable, asking me how long I’ve been married to Layla Jean, I’m going to lose my shit.

I get it, there isn’t much else going on here. Anything that isn’t festivals or church gatherings is a normal, mundane as hell day.

However, this is one of the things I don’t miss—everyone being in your damn business.

“Fix your face, Briggs,” Adeline lightly chides me from across the table, casually eating her Belgian waffles with fresh strawberries. “You’re gonna start scarin’ people.”

“That’s the point,” I deadpan, actually in the middle of a staring contest with June Delaney.

My breakfast is long gone. I can’t take one bite without someone coming over here when I’m not looking to grill me on my relationship with Layla.

When did it happen?

Why aren’t you here makin’ kids?

When are you quittin’ the MLB?

Are you quittin’ the MLB?

How does Layla feel about you being gone all the time?

On and on and on, and I can’t answer one of them because Layla will not give me a reason or hope that she’s going to stop with these damn divorce papers she keeps trying to get me to sign.

Meanwhile, June Delaney is seated at the bar section of the diner, not-so-subtly trying to think of a way to come in this direction because it’s not near the exit.

It’s in the back.

She’s part of the gossip in town, not as good as Agnes and Maebelle Mitchell when they team up, but she’s a pain in the ass with the way she’s just itching to come over here.

“It’ll pass over,” Everly claims next to me. “You’re exciting.”

“I’m boring.”

“You’re far from borin’,” Adeline retorts with some pleasure in her tone over the fact that I’m the newest spectacle around here. “Folks are sayin’ you two are like Romeo and Juliet.”

“They died.”