“Me either,” I say quietly.

She quiets as well when she says, “You realize that was single-handedly the best moment of my life? And sure, when you proposed was beautiful and our wedding was the best day of my life, but when you stood up for me, when you promised my mom that she would never, ever hold her strength over me ever again, I felt free. Free for the first time, like you released me from this dreary life I was living under.”

“I told you I’d protect you until my dying day.” I move my fork across my plate and say, “I might have lost sight of that for a second, but even when we go our separate ways, I will always protect you, Myla. Always.”

“You never stopped protecting me, Ryot.” The air between us grows thick, and I don’t know what to say, what to do other than wish and hope that after this time in Napa is over . . . we’re not over.

“I messed up, Myla.”

“You did,” she replies. “But you never stopped protecting me.”

Guilt consumes me as I think about her words that night.

“When you retired early from baseball, it was as if this cloud cast over you, and you turned into a different man. You looked straight ahead, plowed forward, and you walked over everyone to prove yourself . . . including me.”

How can she say I never stopped protecting her?

“You might not have needed protection from the outside world, but you needed protection from me.” I let out a deep sigh and then look up at the ceiling. “Shit, I just turned a good time into a morose one.”

“I think it was needed,” she says, pulling my attention back to her. She nibbles on the corner of her lip before saying, “I think getting this out, hearing it all, I think that’s what we needed.” Her eyes connect with mine. “You haven’t been the man I married for the past few months. Why, Ryot? Did retiring early really hurt you that much?”

My eyes dart to the side as my chest tightens.

“Look at me, Ryot.” I take a moment, but when I finally look her way, she says, “Were you hurt mentally?”

After a few seconds, I say, “I felt meaningless.” She sets her wineglass down and then rises from her chair before moving it right next to mine. When she sits back down, she places her hand on my thigh. “My entire life has been baseball. Nothing else. I spent so many fucking years chasing the dream that when I made it, I spent the rest of that time making sure I earned that spot and didn’t miss a training or a practice because I was terrified of becoming a has-been.” I shake my head. “When I hurt my rotator cuff, I knew deep down that that was it. It was the end. I was too old to make a full recovery, and there were younger and cheaper guys waiting to take my position. It happened so fast, like one giant nightmare. One day I was living my dream—with you at my side—and the next, it was all over.” And although she was at my side, I no longer saw anything but the disappointment.