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I storm out of the hallway, and I find Mandy chatting with Harper in a booth. I school my anger from the confrontation with her father. She can’t help it that he’s an asshole, and she deserves the same Victoria she’s started putting her trust in. I can’t ruin my relationship with her now, and especially not when we’ve barely just started working together.

I slide in beside her. “Are you having a good weekend?”

She shrugs. “It’s okay.”

“Are you excited to play with Bella?”

She nods. “She’s my best friend.”

I smile. “Aw, I love that! Ms. Miller is my best friend.”

Mandy reaches across the table and squeezes my arm. “Besties for life, girl.”

Harper giggles, and her father returns a minute later. I don’t make eye contact with him as Mandy gets out of her side of the booth.

“You two have a great rest of the weekend and I’ll see you Monday morning!” Mandy says.

I say goodbye to Harper but ignore Travis, and as we get into my car, Mandy squeals.

“Whew!” She fans herself a little.

“What?” I ask.

“The sexual tension between you and Travis is something else, girl.”

I roll my eyes as I back out of my spot. “Whatever. It is not.”

“He looks at you like he wants to eat you alive, and you look at him like you want to get down on your knees and beg.”

“Oh my God, Amanda Miller!” I yell at her. “Stop it.” My cheeks burn and I refuse to admit she’s right, so I change the subject. “Should we swing back by Owen’s and see if he’s home?”

She shrugs. “I’m just along for the ride.” She elbows me a little. “And the fantasies, of course.”

I shoot a smirk in her direction.

We were only gone maybe ninety minutes, and when we return, there’s an absolute mess on Owen’s front lawn.

And as we get closer, I realize it’s a mess of my stuff .

“What the fuck?” I screech, and Mandy’s jaw is on the floor.

“Well, at least you’ll get your undies back,” she says.

My tires squeal as I pull up along the curb, and sure enough, there’s my unmentionables, along with my shirts and dresses and skirts and pants and socks. Even my sports bra made the trip out the window. I start gathering up my things and tossing them into the suitcase I brought with, and I can’t really believe Owen would stoop to this level.

It’s not just immature and stupid. It’s gross behavior. He was my best friend for two and a half years before things took a turn, and this is how he wants to end it?

Ridiculous.

The framed photos of my family are on the ground, too, the glass smashed in them, and I find a few of my books and photo albums. I spot the rosary and the cross.

But missing from my pile of stuff is that Astros World Series ball my dad caught and handed to me.

We were at the game together in Houston. My mom didn’t want to go but he’d scored two tickets, so I said I’d go with him. We got a hotel for one night, and it was the kind of trip I’ll remember for the rest of my life. It was the kind of trip that bonded the two of us for life.

The Astros won the game, but it was early in the series so it wasn’t the final game. Owen knows how special that ball is to me. I remember I had told my dad he should keep it, but he wanted me to have it. He wanted me to look at it and remember the smile on his face when he caught it and handed it over to me.

I still cry every time I think about that special moment between us.

And it’s not here.

I don’t care so much about the clothes. I want my ball.

I shoot my ex a text. Maybe I’m still fired up from my run-in with Travis, or maybe I really am just a bitch now.

Me: Thanks so much for throwing everything out the window, but where the fuck is my ball?

He doesn’t respond. Of course he doesn’t.

“What are you doing?” Mandy asks as she zips up a very full suitcase.

“Asking Owen where my Astros ball is. You know, the one my dad gave me when we went to the game together.”

“Oh, right. You didn’t take it with you to my place? I know it’s like your prized possession,” she says. She heaves the suitcase into the back of my SUV.

I shake my head. “I was in a rush to get out. I figured I’d go back to pack up the rest once I had boxes and stuff, and I didn’t think to bring it with me.”

“Ugh,” she says, picking up a book she lent me. He tore out half the pages, and they’re sitting a few feet away. “I told you that guy was a total dick. But Mr. Woods, on the other hand…”

“Okay, enough. I know you think I should shoot my shot with the football player who hit on me, but look around you. You think I really want to subject myself to this nonsense again?”

She frowns as she looks at the front lawn. It’s mostly cleaned up now, but all the shit we just packed is covered in grass as if he mowed the lawn, left the clippings, and then threw my stuff on top of it.

“Not every guy is like this,” she says, gesturing toward the lawn.

“I know. But Travis hasn’t exactly started off with the best impression,” I say.

“But you’re over Owen, right?” she asks. “Just to clarify.”

“I was over Owen three months ago,” I admit. “It just took me a little time to realize it. You know, plus that final straw of him telling me he didn’t need to bother anymore since he won me.”

“I thought maybe I had something to do with it, too,” she says, brushing her knuckles on her shoulder haughtily.

“You did. You made me see I deserve more than some asshole who’ll only throw my shit on his grass when I dump his sorry ass. And I honestly don’t think that’s Travis Woods.” I purse my lips.

“We’ll see, girlfriend. We will see.”