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Chapter five

Isabelle

“This is so exciting. Oh, look at the snacks! Do you want some popcorn, Belles?” Mom’s excitement is cute, even if I’m not feeling it the same way she is.

“Not right now, thanks,” I reply, my attention pulled to the field. Tony told us this morning that his boss, the team’s owner Mike, insisted we watch the home opener from his box. Which is very generous, and the old me would have been giddy with excitement.

But the current me is less giddy and more flustered.

Nothing, and I do mean nothing, could have prepared me for coming face-to-face with Kai Yamaki the other day.

Maybe I was naive to think I could avoid him forever, especially when my own mother married a baseball coach.

Yet still, there’s over thirty teams in the major leagues.

And countless other teams at different levels.

Kai could have been on any one of them. What were the chances that he would be on the exact same team as the one my mom’s new husband coaches?

Apparently, really good.

Lucky me.

As I scan the green field, looking for the all-too-familiar stance of the man I’ve watched play ball countless times, I think back to the exact moment when I saw him for the first time in eight years. He looked shocked, of course. But there was something else, something that called out to me.

There you are, I’ve missed you is what my soul seemed to say. And I could swear I saw the same thing reflected back in his expression. But when he pulled me into the dugout, that longing was gone, replaced by the anger and pain I was, sadly, not all that surprised to see.

Eight years have passed without us exchanging a single word.

He made it clear when I finally told him I thought we should end things that if that’s how I felt, then he never wanted to speak to me again.

That hurt. Even if I did deserve it, seeing as I was the one who left, and I was the one who told him I couldn’t be with him any longer.

I told him I needed to stay in Italy to figure my life out.

That was a lie. Well, a partial one, at least.

The truth was, the long distance was incredibly hard.

I missed him every day. And missing him that much, realizing I loved him that much, was scary in a way.

Because how could I be with someone, give them my heart and soul, center my life around theirs, if I didn’t even know what I wanted out of my own?

So, for the last eight years, I’ve focused on myself. On my career. I know what I want now, to own a restaurant some day. And I won’t stop until I get it.

Still, ending things with Kai the way we did never stopped hurting. Like a thorn buried under your fingernail so deep, you can’t get it out. An ache you can never quite get rid of.

I don’t regret going to Italy to meet my father and my family. I do regret hurting Kai and leaving him and my mom.

Seeing him again brought that thorn to the surface at last. The pain was sharp, but the relief was just as powerful.

He looks good. The same as before, only more… Obviously, he’s older than when I last saw him, but the same kindness was in his eyes, the tiny lines on the sides showing he still smiles a lot. He’s filled out, with muscles everywhere on his lean frame.

He’s not the only one who’s filled out. And as hard as I’ve worked to overcome my body insecurities, a small voice inside wonders what he thought of my new shape. I love my curves, and I know I’m strong and healthy, but what does he think?

I give my head a mental shake. What Kai thinks of my body does not matter, at all. I’m here for a few months. If we even see each other, and yes, I’m telling myself that’s an if , not a when , it’ll be as two people who used to know each other. Nothing more.

Tell that to my stupid heart that just sped up as Kai jogs out of the dugout and lines up with his teammates for the singing of the national anthem. He takes his hat off, and I swear his gaze shifts up in the direction of the box. He doesn’t know I’m here, does he?

Of course, he probably does. Tony might have told the team. Although he doesn’t seem like a chatty one. Still, I stand up a little straighter, fighting the urge to fidget with the deep green Tridents shirt I’m wearing.

When we’re finished with the anthems and the ceremonial first pitch, thrown by an adorable little girl who hugs Kai’s legs before running back to her mom, I exhale. He won’t be looking up here. He’ll be focused on the game.

His ability to tune everything out when he was on the pitcher’s mound was incredible. I used to tease him that I could stand in the first row with my shirt off and he wouldn’t notice.

He denied that, rather vehemently.

“That’s the guy you know from college. Kai, right?”

Apparently he’s not the only one capable of focusing to the point of being oblivious to everything else. I hadn’t realized Mom had sat down beside me until her shoulder nudges mine.

“Yeah,” I reply, hoping she’ll leave it at that.

“He’s cute. Maybe you two can find time to catch up while you’re here.”

“Maybe.”

Please let it go, Mom.

Thank God Mom’s attention seems easily swayed today as she swivels in her seat and waves at someone behind us. “Oh, there’s Willow! She seems nice.”

“Mm-hmm.” I have to acknowledge her somehow, even though I want to remind her I’m here to spend time with her, not make new friends. Or visit with old ones.

Then again, I suppose it could be nice to have someone else to hang out with when she’s busy with Tony or something. And Willow, who, if I remember correctly, is the owner’s niece and head of media relations or something, did seem cool when we met at Family Day.

“So. Back to Kai. How did you two know each other?”

Damn it, my reprieve didn’t last long. And the way she asks that question may sound casual, but I know my mother.

She’s digging. Thinking quickly, I decide on avoidance as my best tactic.

I stand up and give her what I hope is a convincing smile.

“Oh, we were in the same dorm one year. That’s all.

I’m going to check out that snack table.

You said Willow’s here? I’ll say hi,” I say, standing up.

She nods, but I don’t like the smirk she’s fighting back. Damn it, she suspects there’s more to my story. Well, too bad, Mom. I love her, but the last thing I need is for her to think she can use my past with Kai as more ammunition in her fight to get me to stay in Vancouver.

I know she misses me, and I miss her. And Vancouver’s great. But Italy is where I can reach my dreams.

I take my time at the snack table and eventually find Willow. She’s wearing a sparkler of a ring on her finger and is way too freaking gorgeous in one of those classic, elegant ways. It would be intimidating if she wasn’t also smiling and laughing and giving off genuine good-people vibes.

Her gaze lands on me, and if anything, her smile grows.

“Isabelle! I’m so glad you’re here.” She excuses herself from the guy she was speaking to, moves my way, and takes my elbow, tugging me to the side.

“Thank God, you have the best timing. If I had to spend another second schmoozing, I was going to lose my mind.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You didn’t look like you were close to insanity. Your game face is impressive.”

She winks. “You should see me play poker.” She takes a long sip of her drink.

“Anyway. We should get together while you’re in town.

Stirling is such a mysterious guy. None of us knew he was getting married until he showed up after vacation and told us!

I had to give him my usual media relations lecture about letting your staff know these things in advance.

” She laughs. “But he’s obviously wildly in love with your mom. They’re adorable.”

I chuckle again, sipping my own drink. “Trust me, I was just as surprised. Never expected Mom to settle down, but they’re good together.”

“You’ve been living out of the country for a while?”

I nod. “Yeah, I’ve been living in northern Italy for eight years. That’s where my dad’s from.”

“Italy! That’s so cool, total dream destination for me. Okay, now we have to get together. Here, enter your number.” She hands me her phone, unlocked, and I enter in my temporary Canadian number.

“Great. Okay, I need to get back to work.” She sighs.

“More schmoozing?”

“No, thank God. I’m done up here. Need to go check in with my staff. But I’ll text you soon.”

We wave goodbye, and then she’s gone. Wandering back to where my mom is sitting, chatting with someone else, I take a seat and watch the game.

Kai is still on the mound. He looks so calm, like nothing else matters, and no one else is around him.

It’s just him and the ball. I watch him nod at his catcher before stepping back, his head falling down.

His thumb and forefinger lift and run along the brim of his cap.

It’s a habit I’ve watched him do hundreds of times.

Ever since the first game I watched, back when we were friends — before we even started dating.

I’m instantly ripped back in time, to a different stadium, under sunny Florida skies. When the only two Canadians on campus had just started hanging out, and I had stolen the hat off his head before writing my initials on the inside brim.

“There. Now it’s your lucky charm. You need the Canadian vibes to help you pitch your best.”

At his next game, he ran his fingers along my initials at the start of the inning, grinning at me the entire time. Then he went and threw a perfect inning, striking out three players, one after another.

His team won that game. And Kai made me put my initials on every single hat and helmet he had.

Surely he doesn’t still…

No. It must just be an unconscious tic. An automatic movement.

“He does that every inning.” Mom’s voice interrupts my trip down an emotional memory lane. “Tony said it was so frustrating at first because the coaching staff thought it was a signal.”

I swallow the lump in my throat at Mom’s confirmation that he still does it each time he’s at bat. “Yeah? Did he say why Kai does it?”

“No, I don’t think he knows why, but Kai refuses to stop. So they’ve learned to ignore it.”

The umpire calls a third strike, and the crowd erupts in a chant of his nickname.

My initials are still his lucky charm. And I don’t know how to feel about that.