My husband, Dan, was a professional baseball player.

He had promised to have a child with me and start a family after he retired, but he returned to the team again, leaving me all alone.

I stare at the man in front of me, the one I have loved through the ups and downs of almost ten years of marriage.

I’ve loved him through having to put having kids on hold.

Through his breaking promises and blowing me off over and over again.

“I meant it when I said I was gonna retire this year. I did. I even told everyone I was done. But… the team needs me.”

“And I don’t? What about trying for a baby? Are we putting it on hold now?”

He reaches for me. I flinch away. “I’m done.” My voice cracks, but I stand straight.

“Come home when you’re ready to be here. I won’t wait anymore.”

The door slams. I sink to the floor, staring at the empty hallway.

This house was never ours. Just mine—finally, truly mine. And I’m letting go.

————————

Jessie

Almost 10 Years Later

The harsh February wind bites at the back of my neck as I grab my load of shopping bags out of the back of my SUV. I’m able to gather them all in one trip, my hands full as I hurry to hit the garage door button with my elbow, closing out the frigid air.

I hustle inside the warm house and walk into our beautiful open-concept kitchen. Dropping the pile of bags on the huge marble island and sorting through them, putting any food away. I grab the bag with the ovulation test strips and pregnancy tests and take it with me to stash in my bathroom after I show Dan.

The baby-making plan is a go this month. We haven’t been actively preventing pregnancy up to this point, and now I’m ready to kick it up a notch and start trying for a baby. I’ve got all the apps downloaded to track my cycle and a thermometer to take my temperature every day, like the piles of research I found suggested. My type-A planner brain is all over this.

Dan’s car was in the garage, so I know he’s home, but he’s not in the living room or the den I like to refer to as his man cave. Since he retired from baseball in the fall, these are his usual spots for this time of the afternoon. He’s still been working out with his buddies from the team regularly, but other than those workouts, he’s usually watching sports on the massive TV or playing video games. He’s been making the most of his new, light schedule.

I hear some rustling upstairs, so he must be in our bedroom. I bounce up the stairs, excited to see him, especially with our bed nearby. Maybe I can break out an ovulation strip before we get to it.

Can I take an ovulation test in the middle of the day, or is it supposed to be in the morning? Another fertility question to Google later!

When I enter the room, I immediately take notice of his large suitcase sitting on the bed, almost full. My stomach instantly drops to somewhere around my pink fuzzy winter socks. I hear Dan moving around in the en suite bathroom, but I’m frozen at the sight and sound of his packing.

What is going on?

“Dan?” I call out in a shaky voice, already filled with dread.

The rustling sounds in the bathroom go silent before he calls back, “Oh, hey, baby. I wasn’t sure when you’d be back.”

“Are you going somewhere?”

There’s a long pause before he exits the bathroom, zipping up his travel toiletry case. My eyes drop to the case as he adds it to the suitcase and zips the whole thing shut. I take a step back and study the man I’ve loved for nearly my entire adult life.

Dan is just as handsome as the day I met him during my freshman year of college, his senior year, with his almost black hair and his flawless olive skin. His hair is a little more stylish now, cut short on the sides and left messy on top with small traces of gray showing at the temples. Small lines have appeared alongside his eyes, making him look distinguished.

I meet his eyes, and instead of the cocky mischief he wore in his sparkling blue-green eyes back in college, they shine with guilt and apprehension. He tugs nervously at the back of his neck, making his impressive biceps pop, but I can’t get distracted by his unfairly hot body because I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna like what he has to say next.

“Coach called. The rookie they were bringing up to replace me got hurt. They want me to come to spring training to fill in. Probably for the whole season.”

Before he retired, Dan was the starting catcher for the Flash, the professional baseball team here in Fort Starling, Ohio. His words are like a punch to the stomach. I should have known when he didn’t make any formal announcement of his retirement that he’d go back on his decision.

Again.

I don’t say anything at first, stunned by the hurt and anger coursing through my veins. I stare at the man in front of me, the one I have loved through the ups and downs of almost ten years of marriage. Through his getting called up to the majors, through being traded multiple times, and through having to move our entire lives to new cities. Through my parents practically disowning me and cutting me off financially for getting married straight out of college at twenty-one. I’ve loved him through having to rebuild my event planning business from scratch multiple times, and putting having kids on hold. Through his breaking promises and blowing me off over and over again.

I let the fact that he is once again breaking his promise sink in as I search his features. This will be the third time he’s gone back on his word about retirement. With even more instances of him deciding the course of our lives without having so much as a conversation with me, I’m not sure I even recognize the man standing in front of me. He should probably be embarrassed that, as a professional baseball player, he’s not more worried about what happens after three strikes.

“Jessie Baby, say something.”

“What is there to say? You promised. You’re breaking your promise. Again.” My voice sounds cold, almost robotic. I wish I could say I’m surprised, but part of me expected this to happen. Part of me has been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since last season ended. I wish I hadn’t gotten my hopes up about the idea of a baby, though. The thought makes my chest ache and my stomach flip.

“I meant it when I said I was gonna retire this year. I did. I even told everyone I was done. But… the team needs me.”

“And I don’t? What about trying for a baby? Are we putting it on hold now? Should I just get right back on the pill now, since you’ll be gone again this season?”

“I’ve said all along it shouldn’t matter if I’m still playing for us to have a baby. You’re the one who wanted to wait until I retired!” he snaps angrily, reminding me of the fight we’ve been having continuously over the last several years.

We were finally there. It really seemed like he was going to hold up his end of the bargain this time. He was going to give us the chance to focus on repairing the damage the last ten years have had on our relationship. To build back what every little piece of neglect from him has eroded. I wanted so badly to believe this year would be different. This would be the year he chose me, chose us, and our future. But nothing’s different. He’s leaving, and once again, I didn’t have any say in the matter.

“So that’s it. No discussion, no warning. You’re off to spring training like normal. I’m supposed to go about my day like you didn’t just drastically change the next year of my life without so much as a heads up.”

Dan scrubs a hand down his face. He had to know this wasn’t gonna go over well. He had to have seen this fight coming. I don’t know why he’s so frustrated; he’s the one who just keeps doing whatever he wants with no consequences.

“I’m sorry, baby. I am, but it’s just one more season. I’m doing this for us. One more season can set us up even better for the future.”

One more season? I don’t believe him. At this point, it’s become painfully obvious I can’t believe anything he says. Who knows? Maybe he had always planned on playing this year and was just stringing me along. Pinning it on wanting to make us more financially stable is just sad. We have enough in our bank accounts to last us a lifetime after his successful career in the majors and all the endorsements and sponsorships that came with it.

“You know this isn’t about money. What about what I need? What if I need you to be done? What if I need you to keep your promises?”

“I don’t understand why I’m the one who has to give up my dreams here? Baseball has been good to us. I haven’t heard you complaining about this big, beautiful house you could decorate however you want. The clothes, the vacations, all of this is possible thanks to baseball. Why do I have to decide between my career and a family?”

I can literally feel my heart breaking in my chest with a dull ache that takes my breath away. He’s the one sacrificing his dreams? He’s making it painfully obvious that he doesn’t see me. He doesn’t see the way I had to start over from square one with my business every time he was traded. The way I’ve waited for him to be an active participant in our life together. And if he doesn’t see me, I’m having a hard time finding a reason to stay. The thought threatens to break me in half, but I don’t let any of it show on my face. It won’t do any good.

He zips the suitcase and wheels it to the bedroom door before coming back to gather me in his arms. I let myself melt into him just for a moment. It might be the last time, even though he doesn’t know it yet. He’s expecting me to let it go. To forgive him again and go back to being the perfect baseball wife. I don’t think I have it in me.

“I’m sorry, Jess. But I have to go; my ride’s here.” He gives me a perfunctory peck on the lips, barely a peck, before grabbing his suitcase and taking off down the hallway. “Love you, baby!” he calls as he leaves, an afterthought on his way back to the game he can’t do without.

Through the big window at the front of our room, I watch as he gets in a town car and drives away into the frozen February day. I stay still, staring out the window for several minutes before shaking myself from the trance his departure put me in.

I want to be furious. I want to scream and wail and throw things. I’ll probably get there, but for now, I’m numb.

I spend the evening wandering the rooms of this big, beautiful house he so casually threw in my face. My dream house. What was supposed to be our forever home. Now I’m here alone. Again. Knowing deep down, I’ll be saying goodbye soon.

When he texts to let me know he made it to Arizona safely, I don’t respond. And when he calls that night for one of our daily check-ins, a staple of our marriage until now, any time he’s been away, I ignore the call. I’ll talk to him when I’m ready. When my next move is figured out. Because one thing is sure, I can’t go back to the way it’s always been.

I’m done.