“Don’t put yourself down. Everyone is on their own path. It doesn’t matter the timeline.”

“You’re right, sorry.”

“And I understand your excitement, I truly do, because I know what it feels like to be lost. When I was in the minors and not getting called up as quickly as I expected, I truly felt like I possibly wasn’t doing what I was supposed to be doing, but then, when I was called up, I saw the vision. The plan. And I knew I was doing what I was meant to be doing.”

“That’s how I feel.”

“I’m glad, babe. So does this mean I get to buy my girl all the office supplies her little heart desires?”

“You don’t have to buy me anything. You just need to haul it around for me.”

I chuckle. “I’ll do both.”

“Ryot,” she complains, and I stop her immediately.

“A present from me, okay? Just take it and say thank you.”

She lets out a deep sigh. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I kiss the top of her head.

And as we turn the corner, she says, “It feels like everything is going so great right now. I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugs and grips me tighter. “I just haven’t had the best of luck in this life of mine. And I didn’t think it was possible to feel this happy. I swear something will go wrong.”

“Or maybe everything is going right because you’re where you’re supposed to be, with whom you’re supposed to be with, and heading in a direction that you were supposed to be headed. Sometimes it isn’t about being lucky or feeling like you’re lucky. It’s about connecting all the puzzle pieces in life. Babe, you’re connecting them.”

She glances up at me, her smile wicked. “Oh Bisley, you are so going to get the best blow job of your life tonight after that heart-stopping statement.”

I chuckle. “I have more where that came from. What happens if I give you two more?”

“Hmm.” She taps her chin just as her phone rings in her purse. “Hold that thought.” She fishes into her purse, pulls out her phone, and frowns.

“What?” I ask.

“It’s my mom. She never calls me.”

“Maybe she’s calling to apologize about the other night.”

Myla snorts. “Yeah, when pigs fly.” Then she answers it. “Hey, Mom, what’s going on?” The store is just down the street, so I keep us walking in that direction when suddenly, Myla stops in the middle of the sidewalk.

“What?” she asks, her eyes welling up with tears. “How? When?”

“What’s going on?” I ask, turning toward her now.

She lowers the phone and looks up at me, an emptiness casting over her expression as she says, “It’s my dad.” She takes a shallow breath. “He’s dead.”

Chapter Seventeen

RYOT

Present day . . .

“Morning,” I say as Myla slowly rolls to her back, her hair fanning over her face.