Page 15 of Rain Delay

He drags a hand through his hair, frustrated. “You think this is easy for me?”

“I never implied that it was. However, you don’t get to act like I’m the only complication in this equation.”

He jolts back slightly, and I watch as his mouth opens, then closes.

Because we both knew I was right.

“You think I wanted this?”

I allow myself a moment to take everything in before I realize I’m still in a stare-down with him.

“This is happening,” I say in almost a whisper. “Whether we like it or not.”

“I want to be clear with my intentions,” he glances at me up and down. “I wasn’t very keen on having someone in my house in the first place. The only reason you’re here is for work, and as much as I wish it was someone else, I guess I have to suck it up and learn to deal with it.”

I let him talk and then watched as he walked back up the stairs and closed his bedroom door with a loud slam. This left me alone in the kitchen to try and figure out what the hell happened.

This had to be a dream. There was no way this was going to be my reality for the next eight months.

I SPENT THE NEXT COUPLE OF HOURS unpacking more of my things before I decided to call it a night and get ready for bed.

I had my work cut out for me. I knew it was going to be a challenge working with Wyatt on a personal level, and I also knew how difficult he was to work with when it came to the media.

Once I finally told Carly, she gave me a little low-down of how Wyatt was with the media. This man never did pre- or post-game anything. I read up on some of the media things he had done, and quickly realized that if it wasn’t related to baseball? He wasn’t touching it.

It was strange. Nothing could’ve ever prepared me to come face-to-face with Wyatt the way I did. In every single version of the reunion I’d imagined, Wyatt didn’t look at me like I was a complication.

I was stupid to think something like this could happen again and be cordial. I was naive to think that by some miracle, we were brought back together in some capacity, everything would be peachy keen.

I was so wrong.

And now? Living in his house? As his ex-girlfriend? Definitely not something I penned for things I wanted to accomplish in my five-year plan.

This was something we had talked about years ago, before everything came down in flames. I couldn’t fathom seeing him again, or even being near him again. Sure, I’d seen him on social media, in the news, but this was different. It was like by some twisted, fucked up sort of fate, the universe put us back in each other’s orbits.

Five years had gone by without exchanging a single word to one another. Everything was made clear when he stood in his hallway with his duffel bag in tow, saying he was going to Philadelphia and I wasn’t coming with him. I wasn’t going to be part of that next chapter in his life.

I was a thing of the past. As much as I wanted to do that life with him, I don’t think it would’ve been the right timing. I think it would’ve been something that ended in disaster no matter what.

As I finished my skincare, I changed into my pajamas and got under the covers, grabbing my phone to do my nightly doom scroll.

Everything quickly came to a halt when I see an Instagram notification light up the top of my phone.

WyattMitchell35 liked your post.

Excuse me?

I had to do a double take at my phone, making sure I was reading that notification right. What was he doing looking at my socials?

I get curious, wanting to see what post he liked. Turns out it was a post from nearly a year ago of me and my sister at a Crafters game.

I headed back into my notifications to see if it was the only one he liked.

Nope.

He liked multiple. So not only was this man actively stalking me, but he was also down the hall from me.

My thumbs wander, and I end up on his profile. Five years, and it was still boring as hell. Maybe it was a good thing I was hired to help out with his image. I scroll through some of the pictures and freeze when I see a particular photo.