“Something happened,” she says. “I’m not saying this was right or good or that if he walked in right now, I wouldn’t karate chop him in the balls.”

I smile the biggest smile I can manage. She returns it.

“But there’s more to this story. There has to be.”

What does it matter if there is? It’s not going to fix anything. Whatever he’s committed to in California is going to be full time.

But what he didn’t say was whether other factors were involved, and that says all I need to know. Cole knows communication is key in relationships. He told me that. So if he’s choosing not to talk to me, then he’s okay with our . . . whatever we had ending.

I close my eyes and try to find my happy place. At the moment, that would be anywhere but here. Just as I mentally begin to detach—ironically to a place that includes Cole and a bed—the sound of the front door opening rings through the house.

“Who is that?” Val whispers.

“Mom!” Ethan’s voice arrives in my room just before he appears in the doorway. “Mom?”

Oh. No.

Oh no.

Please, no. Not yet.

I sit up and realize my worst nightmare: having to break my son’s heart while mine is still bleeding.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I came to get my baseball glove.” He looks between Val and me. “What’s wrong?”

Val turns to me. “Do you want me to . . .”

“Kirk’s wife is pretty sick,” I say, clearing my throat. “It’s been a really sad day.”

This explanation does nothing to assuage his fears. They’re still written all over his freckly face.

What’s left of my heart cracks. The raw edges slice my chest like a thousand knives because I know I have to tell him about Cole now. He begged me to stop protecting him by delaying news about Jared, and I think this is going to somehow hurt him even more. I can’t make it worse by waiting and have him not trust me too—even though I’m going to wait to tell him about his father. At least until I have more details.

I cough. “Ethan, I need to tell you something else.”

“Okay.”

“Cole was just here . . .” I stop and gather myself just before my voice trembles. Get it together. “Something happened, and he had to go to California.”

“For how long?”

I lace my fingers with Val’s in the blankets. “For . . . probably forever, buddy.”

Watching him process this information tears me apart. He shifts from one foot to the other. His brows rise, then furrow. His shoulders slump just before his head cocks to the side in confusion.

“What about the team?” he asks.

I shrug. “I think Ted is taking it back over.”

His bottom lip quivers. “What about . . . you? And me?”