Page 47

HUNTER

Yesterday I brought Mom back from the hospital and told her to sit her ass on the couch. She told me to go shovel the driveway and stop hovering. Classic Carly Reed logic.

I bundle into my thickest jacket, step outside, and grab the snow shovel from the porch. The driveway is a mess, piled with soft powder and slush from yesterday’s flurries. I make it halfway down the walk when I hear the front door creak open.

“Ma, are you expecting anyone?” I call over my shoulder.

“That’s Bonnie,” she yells back, the smell of fresh-baked bread wafting from the house. “She’s dropping off the lease paperwork.”

I pause, shovel mid-air. “The what?”

She appears in the doorway, apron dusted with flour, holding a dish towel. “The lease agreement. She and her daughter are going to take the house while I’m in Seattle. It’ll help cover treatment costs, and she’s going to manage the salon while I’m gone.”

I blink at her. “Wait—you’re moving to Seattle?”

She lifts a brow like it should be obvious. “Why did you think I redecorated your room? It’s for Bonnie’s daughter.”

“You were planning this the entire time?”

“If you think I’m going to let you come back here and join the franchise that banished you to the farm team and then nearly tanked your career, you’re crazy.

I’ve been talking with my doctor for the last couple of weeks—since before Christmas—about it.

There weren't any openings, but a new trial test came up the day before Christmas Eve. I didn’t know how to tell you since I haven’t been completely honest about the testing. ”

“So, your plan was to blindside me and move to Seattle without giving me advance notice?” I ask, a smile spreading across my face, because this is right up Carly Reed’s playbook.

I open the door just as Bonnie steps up onto the porch, cheeks pink from the cold.

“Hey, Carly,” Bonnie greets warmly. “I brought the copies. But don’t worry about signing anything today. I just wanted to check on you.”

“Don’t be silly. Now’s as good a time as any. I feel healthy as ever. Let me get a pen,” Mom says, disappearing back inside like she didn’t just casually flip my world upside down.

I stand frozen as Bonnie steps in, brushing snow from her coat.

Mom returns a minute later, pen in hand, ready to sign away her house and her role as boss of the local salon like it’s just another Sunday.

“I can't believe you’ve been planning this,” I finally say.

She feigns interest in my confusion as she signs the first page. “Once I heard how serious things were with Peyton, I started looking at treatment facilities near Seattle.”

“So you wanted me to go back?”

She nods. “Seattle’s your life now. I just needed to catch up.”

I stand in the driveway, reeling.

A while later, after Bonnie leaves and the bread is cooling on the counter, I step onto the porch and pull out my phone.

I have a flight tomorrow. I need to be back for our home games at least, but with the news of my mom moving to Seattle, I know that I need to let Tom know that I won’t be taking New Jersey’s deal.

There’s one other thing I need to do.

Hunter : Hey, can I still pick Jesse up tomorrow for PT like usual?

Abby : You’re going to be back in Seattle tomorrow?

Hunter : Yeah. Flying out tonight.

Abby : Sure. He’d love that.

The next morning, I show up at Abby’s house. Jesse greets me first, his cane in hand, and I’m happy to see that he’s using his wheelchair less and less.

Abby steps outside too, her arms crossed.

“Got a minute?” she asks.

I nod, stepping closer to the front stoop of their house. The look on her face saying that this is serious. I hope that what happened between Peyton and I won’t change her allowing me to work with Jesse.

“Go jump in the truck, Jesse. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He nods and heads off.

“So when does the trade happen?”

“What trade?”

“The one with New Jersey. And are you planning to tell Jesse about it today? I just want to make sure you let him down easily. He’s going to be really disappointed in losing you.”

“I told them no,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m staying here. My mom is moving here for treatment. Is that what Peyton told you was happening?”

“She told me that your mother didn’t want to move, and that New Jersey offered you a spot, so this was the best option for you,” she says in a huff. “You’re telling me that you're not taking the trade and moving to New Jersey.”

“No. I’m not. I’m staying here. It’s where I’m the happiest, and I have more than just a team I want to be here for…including Jesse.”

“Oh God…just wait until Peyton realizes that she gave up the syndication deal and you're not moving.”

“Wait…what the fuck? She gave up the syndication deal? That can’t be right. She had a meeting the day after Christmas with the network.”

“Peyton left some things out,” Abby says, taking a step closer. “She’s going to kill me for telling you, but I think you should know.”

My spine straightens. “What should I know?”

“She gave up the syndication deal. Called Rebecca from the hospital cafeteria. Told her she wouldn’t take the offer if it meant leaving you.”

Air rushes out of my lungs.

“Bethany cornered her,” Abby continues. “Told her she’d pull the trade offer unless Peyton walked. So she did. Because she didn’t want you to have to choose between your mom and her.”

I stare at the sidewalk, jaw clenched.

“She loves you, Hunter. That part I definitely shouldn’t be telling you, but I know you love her too. That’s why she did it.”

It hits me like a damn freight train.

All this time, I thought she didn’t choose me. But the truth is, she chose me so hard she walked away.

There’s a long pause between us as I relive that moment of Peyton telling me that she was leaving and that I should stay.

And then how smug Bethany acted after Peyton left, but I didn’t read into it…

until now. And that entire time, Bethany already knew that her divorce wasn’t going down the way she wanted.

She knew when she told Peyton to walk away that she didn’t have the authority to offer me a trade deal.

“Did you hear what I said?”

I nod, knowing that I have to get Peyton back. “How do you feel about grand gestures?” I ask Abby.

She smirks. “Big fan.”

“Good,” I say, unlocking my phone. “I’m going to need your help.”