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By Monday evening, Raelyn was feeling good about her plans that she’d worked out over the weekend.

She was back in her own house with Harry, and though it felt completely empty without Quinn, she was grateful for the solitude while she figured out how she was going to make this right.

She hadn’t wallowed or hid away from what happened Friday morning.

She was simply determined to get to work on each and every detail to make sure she was successful when she went to Los Angeles to get Quinn back.

It had been a long weekend, having to explain everything to her dad, and even explain in further detail to both Jett and Chris exactly what had led to her being alone with her ex-fiancé that morning.

Jett had stormed into her house, shouting in his stern disappointed-dad voice that he’d completely mastered, and she wasn’t too ashamed to admit that she cried her whole way through the story.

Jett didn’t typically get uncomfortable with tears- he was the guy who comforted his younger sisters through all their breakups- but seeing Raelyn cry was a whole different story.

He’d toned down his intensity almost immediately.

While they understood why she had jumped to that conclusion upon seeing Quinn and Zoey in the hallway, especially given her previous experience with similar situations, they agreed she should have been able to knock on his door and confront him.

And that’s exactly why she was no longer running from her problems. She was prepared to face this head-on.

Every morning and every night at the same time, Raelyn tried calling Quinn.

She wanted to explain, she wanted him to know that she knew she was in the wrong.

She wanted him to know that she had also been making plans for their future together, and dammit , she just wanted to hear his voice again.

But each call would ring until it went to voicemail.

Each good morning text went unanswered, and each goodnight, I love you was also met with stony silence.

This didn’t deter her, though. If anything, it made her more determined to fix the giant mess she’d made.

All of Raelyn’s appointments for the next few days had been rescheduled, her bags were packed, and her plane ticket was ready.

On Tuesday morning, Charlie, Raelyn, and Harry were in her Jeep, heading to Detroit Metro where she would board her nearly five-hour flight to LAX.

It wasn’t Harry’s first time on a plane, and being a certified therapy dog, he got to sit in first class with Raelyn, but he did still require doggie Xanax to get through the flight.

“Got everything you need?” Charlie asked, as Raelyn grabbed her bags and Harry’s leash in the drop-off lane.

“Yep.” Raelyn nodded.

“Plane ticket? License? Wallet? Phone? Resume?” Charlie listed.

“All of the above.”

“Okay, good,” he said as Raelyn leaned over the passenger seat to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

He then turned to her, his expression sincere.

“Now, no matter what happens, Rae, I love you. But don’t come back until you’ve got my future son-in-law in tow.

I don’t care if you have to put Harry’s leash on him and drag him back as a carry-on. ”

Raelyn’s eyebrow twitched upward. “That could be fun.”

Charlie scowled. “Raelyn Elise, that’s…just gross. But whatever works.”

“Love you, Dad,” she said, smiling as she closed the door.

It was just after noon, Pacific Time, when Raelyn landed at LAX.

The three-hour time difference had allowed her to take a slightly later flight and still get to her interview with time to check in to her hotel, get dressed, and get something to eat.

Her hotel had a gorgeous view of the ocean, and as much as she would have loved to sit on the balcony with Harry and stare out at the water, she had places to be, so the view would have to wait.

She was hopeful she’d only be staying one or two nights in the room, but there was a lot riding on both her interview and Quinn’s reaction to her showing up unannounced.

At 4:30, she met with the Director of Player Health as well as the head and assistant athletic trainers.

The meeting was set up to be intimidating, with Raelyn at one end of a long table, while the director and trainers sat at the other end grilling her about her professional experience, offering different hypothetical situations, and asking about her intentions to stay with the team.

Their team’s physical therapist had taken up a position in Florida because of the proximity to his family, and with Raelyn being from Michigan, it was a concern that they felt necessary to address.

Then, of course, there was the matter of Quinn Casey, their star hard-hitter.

They had all been impressed with his recovery thus far and were confident he’d be able to re-join during the next year, even if it was in the middle of the season.

They had asked several questions regarding his specific condition, and what she recommended for his next steps.

The Director of Player Health was strongly adamant that he continue therapy with her, as she clearly knew what his condition was from the beginning.

Near the end of the interview, the head coach of the team entered the room, beaming as he set his eyes on Raelyn sitting at the far end of the table.

“Dr. DeRose, isn’t it?” He grinned as he walked over to shake her hand.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you in person.

” He turned to address the men sitting at the other end of the table, “This is the woman who’s going to keep our star player up and running and out of trouble, if I heard correctly. ”

“Well, I’ve known him since we were seven and he still managed to get himself in trouble a handful of times back in the day,” Raelyn replied with a grin. “Though I have noticed tremendous progress on that punching reflex of his. ”

The coach chuckled, “Yeah, he’s a bit of a hot head, our guy. I bet he’s excited you’re here.”

“Actually, he doesn’t know,” said Raelyn quickly.

The coach and former outfielder nodded, “Well, I’ll hold off on making him sign certain forms given the unique circumstances here then.”

Raelyn tried not to smile too wide at the implication that they’d already made up their minds. Well, Quinn had better forgive me then. Otherwise this is going to get weird.

After a few more questions and friendly conversational exchanges, she shook hands with everyone again, telling them she looked forward to hearing from them soon. Leaving the stadium and clubhouse, she felt both more confident and more anxious than when she’d arrived.

Back in the hotel, she changed into a set of exercise clothes and running shoes, hooked Harry to his leash and took off for a run on the beach.

There wasn’t a whole lot more she could do until she received a call from the director.

And who knew how long it would take for them to deliberate?

Running would clear her head, and it would also keep her from making the rash decision to go straight to Quinn’s place.

She was sure the urge to do so would only intensify once she got back to her hotel room, alone, and began running through various scenes of her showing up on his doorstep, and Quinn pulling her inside for hours of wild make-up sex.

He was genuinely upset and had every right to be. This wasn’t something she could fix with sex.

Raelyn ordered room service and ate dinner on her balcony, also ordering an extra grilled chicken breast for Harry to devour.

At seven o'clock, she was hesitant about whether or not she should try calling Quinn like she had every other evening since Friday but opted against it. Knowing she was in the same city, she’d be too tempted to head straight over when he didn’t answer.

And what if he did answer? What would she say to him?

She sucked at keeping secrets and would be sure to tell him she was in L.A.

, which she just wasn’t ready for him to know yet.

At 10:30 when she slipped under the covers and Harry hopped onto the foot of the bed, she sent him the usual text: Goodnight, I love you.

Plugging her phone into the charger, she set it down on the nightstand and clicked the lamp off.

Not ten seconds passed before her phone lit up and dinged.

She propped herself up on one elbow and checked her new message.

Quinn: Late night? You didn’t call.

Raelyn thought for a moment before she remembered the three-hour time difference.

She always texted him at 10:30 from Michigan, which was 7:30 in California.

Shit . Well, it was a hell of a lot easier to keep her poker face through text.

Re-reading his text, she couldn’t help the swell in her chest that he not only received her texts and calls, but he maybe even looked forward to them.

Even if he didn’t respond, he waited for them. Raelyn smiled and sent back:

Long day. Were you planning on answering this time?

Nearly a full minute passed before his response came through:

Probably not.

Shaking her head, she sent back:

So stubborn. Now quit screwing with my routine. Goodnight, Quinn. I love you.

It wasn’t until morning that she read Quinn’s responding text that he’d sent several minutes after her last:

I loved you first.

“You’re meeting with the trainer at the stadium at ten, and then there’s a meeting inside the clubhouse with the whole team,” Zoey rattled off as she scrolled through her phone .

“A trainer, but no physical therapist?” Quinn questioned.

He was back at his house- his very large, very empty house- in his living room, working on some of the exercises Rae had gone over with him at their last PT session.

He was officially out of the six-week phase, which meant he no longer needed a brace and could start strengthening his rotator cuff and scapula muscles.