Page 128 of The Catch

Ames

I'm in LA. For nearly three days, I've had meetings where I smile while my heart drowns. I've been as charming and smart as I can manage, when all I want to do is get in bed and forget about the world.

I crawl back to my hotel after another long day, only to climb into bed and cover myself with the duvet. It's starting to get dark outside and I haven't turned on any lights. A good fort-like feeling is precisely what I want.

Maybe it's more like a cave. It seems like the ideal place to hide and push away the embarrassment. The one born from how I keep messing up.

I didn't handle the conversation with Saint as well as I should have. Part of that was the shock of his words, when I was so sure he didn't feel half of it. Part of that was worrying that I feel too much to see things clearly. Part of that was the fumes of the fight with Aidan. Regardless, I didn't carry my share of the conversation.

Saint deserves better than that. Especially since I care about him so much.

I hug myself under the covers. My stomach rumbles, but I ignore it. Again, Saint gave me all the power. It's on me to choose what happens to us in the future.In the past, I dreamt of this kind of agency. Now that I have it, it's too much responsibility.

My roommate-could-be-boyfriend and I haven't talked much since he left for San José. The ceremony for MVP was on Thursday. He won. Of course he did. He received the award while I was having dinner with my agent.

Pride washed over me for him. Relief flooded my chest, because it got him one step closer to his goal. Still, I hesitated to reach out. It took me a couple of hours to break, but eventually I did.

Ames: Congratulations. So close now

Saint: Thank you. Yeah, it's good news.

Ames: Are you okay?

Saint: I have been better, but I'm trying to focus on the game on Sunday. You?

Ames: Same, but trying to focus on my meetings.

Saint: Good luck to us both.

Ames: I miss you. I promise I'm thinking hard about us. Feeling hard, too.

Saint: I miss you too. Very much. I would have loved to have you on the field with me.

That was it.

He's extra busy, and knows I am too. He said he'd give me distance, and he's keeping to his word. We're taking some time to process, and I'm doing as I promised. Yet only after a few days since we said goodbye for a bit, my heart's already on a strike and working at half capacity. It refuses to carry on as usual,because I miss him. Oh, how I miss him. But I didn't show him how much I actually feel for him.

Every missing beat digs a little deeper into my chest, because something fundamental is missing when we're not in sync.

I shake my head at myself and push the covers down to my waist. I turn the TV on. The voices and sounds fill in the space enough for a little while. If I pick a sports channel and they talk about football, that can only help get me a little bit closer to Saint somehow. Yeah, it means I will still be submerged in a world I never planned to be in, but it's the only way to have a little bit more of him.

I settle on some sort of pre-game show. I leave it on, while I get on my phone to look up news about Saint on social media. I get lost in new clips and edits his fans have made of him.

There's an edit of different clips of him dancing on the field, made to match the beat of a popular song. A few others focus on his answers to reporters, and his professional career. Another one collects several shots of him smiling at the camera, fans, and players. The description on that one simply read,DIMPLES.

I sigh. My heartbeats echo the efforts of an old steam engine, burning through coal harder than it shows, all to push things into motion. They may seem slow, but there's depth to them. An incredible amount of energy is being put into it.

Missing him means I care about him. It shows me how much I want him in my life. How I want him to hold me close as we talk through this time in our relationship. I would cling to him, so we never have to do this apart again. All I need is a little push and I'll be the one begging, asking him to convince me it's not too soon, that we're going to make it, and we're never going to give up on each other.

I'm not processing anything that shows up on my phone screen anymore. I throw the device on the bed and stare at the TV.

I've been talking to my friends. I haven't shared every single detail, but they didn't need the particulars to support me through this. They were appropriatelyexcited when I told them things had happened between Saint and I, and indignant when they heard Aidan had visited one last time.

Pen: would you have responded the same way to Saint if Aidan hadn't shown up?

I still don't know the answer to that. The most likely turn of events if Aidan hadn't shown up, is that I would still be alone in my hotel while Saint prepared for his game. I wouldn't know how he feels, but my own feelings might have had me thinking of forever with him. At least I'd be happier, because we wouldn't have left it the way we did.

We'll wait and talk again.