That’s the key to everything. All I have to do is open it and read it and make a couple of calls. But I don’t. Every fucking day, I choose not to go there just in case it’s not what I want it to be.

Because I know what it says. I feel it in my gut. And if I’m right, I need to get the hell out of here before it’s too late. Before I become a burden to everyone.

“No offense,” Fish says, “but I thought we were gonna talk about Palmer.”

Her name makes me smile. “Yeah, well, I don’t know what to say about her.”

“Let’s start with this—are you fucking her?”

“Fuck off,” I say, shaking my head.

“So that’s a yes. Good work, my man. I’d ask for details, but—”

“Don’t.”

He whistles through his teeth. “Enough said.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I say, cringing. “I just don’t . . . you know—she’s not the kind of girl you . . .”

“Wow. All right.” He gathers himself. “So is she a part of your sudden lack of interest in California?”

“No.” Maybe.

She could be.

She would be.

If only . . .

I give myself a moment to consider the possibility of staying in Bloomfield with Palmer and Ethan. Having dinners with my parents. Having a family.

Throwing the ball around with Ethan after school—if he continues to love the sport. Going to the grocery store. Mowing my own lawn.

I smile.

Waking up with Palmer and tucking Ethan in at night . . . maybe even having kids with Palmer someday.

All that would be incredible if I could add value to their lives. If I could bat cleanup. If I could be a contributing member of their team.

My breath holds in my chest, burning my lungs, until I gasp for air and then blow it out slowly.

“Any chance Palmer would move with you to the West Coast?” he asks.

Hot, churning bile sloshes in my stomach. I grimace at the discomfort.

“I don’t think so. She and her kid have roots here,” I say, as if it matters. Because it does matter. “Besides, that’s not gonna happen anyway.”

My jaw pulses at the admission. Because it’s true.

“Hey, Fish? I gotta go,” I add, hopping off the picnic table. “I’ll call you later this week.”

“Beck?”

“Yeah?”

He sighs. “I don’t know what’s going on, and I’m not going to hound you about it. Just know that I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready.”

I close my eyes and nod.

“Talk to ya later, man.” He hangs up the phone.

I’m starting to walk toward the house when my screen lights up. I stop and look down.

Palmer:

Remember when I asked if I could trust you?

My fingers fly across the screen.

Me:

Yes.

Her answer comes instantly.

Palmer: