More than the Game by Jenni Bara

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@SIMag:Are the rumors true? Is @HotShotDemoda leaving his New York roots to join the @BOSox? What does this mean for everyone’s favorite celeb couple?

@HotShotDemoda:Big announcement . . . .

Beth opened her eyes, feeling the warmth of Marc tucked around her. All night, he’d held her close, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go. Even now, as his long dark eyelashes barely fluttered in his deep sleep, he kept her firmly against his side, her head resting on his shoulder. She let her fingers trace over his pecs and into the ridges of muscle on his stomach that, even as he relaxed in sleep, stood tight.

He hadn’t seemed to notice during their little sex game that she had admitted she was in love with him. She’d been careful to keep her feelings to herself so far, and she had worried he was going to panic. But he’d acted as if nothing had happened.

She knew Marc cared about her, and lately there had been moments where she could believe he loved her. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch. He didn’t say the words, but for the last few weeks, he hadn’t once reminded her this was temporary. Last week, he had even started leaving his baseball glove at her house instead of taking it home.

Her phone buzzed again on the night stand. That was probably what had woken her. She attempted to reach for it.

“Where are you going?” Marc asked, not opening his eyes.

“My phone’s going crazy,” she said, and he released her waist to let her grab it. She glanced over to see his eyes barely open.

“Kids?”

“Brothers,” she said and smirked. “You look like you stepped in dog poop or something.”

“Those guys need rules about texting. They fire off messages at one or five in the morning. You’re not a twenty-four-hour helpline,” he complained, but tossed an arm over his face as she slid her finger to unlock the twenty-five new messages of the group text. “What’s the emergency this time?”

She scrolled up to the first few messages, which were screenshots of something on Twitter. She almost rolled her eyes until she saw the photo, then the smile fell off her face. Marc stood holding up a white polo shirt featuring the NESN logo, the restaurant where they’d eaten last night in the background. The caption said ‘Big announcement,’ but her stomach bottomed out all the same.

Her world stopped as she stared at her phone. More screenshots of posts from other sites confirmed what was clear.

A new job?

A new city?

An apartment?

Marc hadn’t mentioned any of it.

“Sweetheart?” Marc said and reached over, but she flinched away.

“There’s a picture of you signing a contract.” Marc’s eyes widened. “Last night, while you and Austin went to the bar for drinks, you signed a contract.” He sucked in a breath. “You rented an apartment.” His hands fisted, and he swallowed hard. “You’re moving to Boston.” He glanced away from her out the window and ran his hand through his hair.

His reaction was the only confirmation she needed, and a lump formed in her throat.

He’d told her their relationship would be over if he got a job in another city. But she had expected him to talk to her about it. Honestly, she had hoped he would tell her before he accepted a job, and that Marc might change his mind about breaking up. The idea of distance didn’t bother her. She thought their relationship was strong enough to survive separation. But apparently he didn’t think she was important enough to mention any of it to her.

How could she have been so utterly stupid? The ball of lead settled firmly in her stomach.

“I’m looking for any professional baseball job I can get. You knew that—that was the whole reason we started this.” His initial panic had faded, and now his tone had a clipped accusation to it.

“I know what you wanted, and if you’d told me about this, I’d be thrilled for you. You didn’t, though,” she mumbled.

“Fuck that.” He slammed his fist against the mattress as he cursed. “Why should I have to?”

And didn’t that say it all.

“You don’t have to. The problem lies in the fact that you didn’t want to.” Her voice was flat, but she grabbed Marc’s jersey, the only thing close, and pulled it on before she stood up.

“Why does it have to be a problem?” he asked as she collected her shoes and dress from the floor. “Wait a second, come back here. Where are you going?” He pushed back the sheet and followed her as she headed into the bathroom. “I was going to tell you today.”

“You planned to tell me after you announced it to the rest of the world? That’s reassuring,” Beth said sarcastically, but her heart wasn’t in it so the words didn’t have the punch she wanted. Her eyes stung, but she refused to fall apart in front of him.

“I don’t need to ask for your permission. You don’t get to decide what job I take, Beth.”

She didn’t know where that had come from. “What? I never expected to have a say in what you decided, Marc.” She’d hoped, but never expected it. “But it’s not unreasonable to think that you would tell me before you announced it on Twitter. We might not be a lot of things, but I thought we respected each other. I thought we were friends.”

Marc opened his mouth and then shut it again. Beth grabbed her bag from his bathroom and stormed into the master bedroom. Besides the bed and a dresser, there was nothing in this massive room. It was empty—kind of like their relationship.

They didn’t have love, they didn’t have trust, and apparently, they didn’t even have a friendship. She’d thought she was different from his other girls, but now she knew she wasn’t. She had just lasted longer.

She needed to leave. She threw on her clothes and had the Uber app open on her phone by the time he came into the room wearing gym shorts.

“It doesn’t matter, Marc. It’s whatever.” She swallowed the lie and prayed her voice wouldn’t crack. It would take ten minutes for her ride to arrive, but she clicked confirm before turning to him. “I get it. I’m not that important to you.”

The temper flared in his eyes, and his mouth twisted into the familiar ‘you’re full of shit’ frown. “That’s ridiculous. What have I been doing with you for the last few months if you’re not important to me?”

“You were looking to change public opinion of you. You did a great job of that—”

She couldn’t believe he had the audacity to roll his eyes before he interrupted her.

“If that was all this was, you’d have been fired after a week,” Marc snapped. She stared at him, not understanding. “We aren’t in the media, Beth. I pay people to keep us out of it.”

“What?” Except for her father’s events, they hadn’t been spotted in public in weeks. But she hadn’t realized he was actively trying to keep the press away.

Marc shook his head. “That’s not important.”

“I think it’s vital, given that our entire relationship was an agreement to be seen in the media,” she said.

“That’s such crap, Beth. It became more than that silly agreement before we even started sleeping together.” His voice was soft again.

“Ha,” Beth scoffed as he threw the lie she had believed for so long back at her. It felt like a slap in the face.

He looked shocked. “How can you think that’s not true?”

“Name the last two women you slept with before me.” She raised her eyebrows at him, but he said nothing. “Should I make it easier? Okay: Name two women you slept with in the year before you met me.”

“That’s different,” Marc said, but now he wasn’t looking at her again. “You’re different.”

“Why?” she demanded, then immediately wished she hadn’t asked. He wasn’t about to declare his love for her, and she knew it.

“I don’t know.”

“Right.” She turned away and shut her eyes. Did he realize he was crushing her?

Marc sighed, and she turned back to look at him. He tossed his hands in the air. “You’re fun, and you make things exciting. Just because I’m moving to Boston doesn’t change any of that.”

Beth’s eyes welled, and she furiously blinked back tears as she looked around the room at the emptiness. The man didn’t even want to be too comfortable in his own house because he might get attached.

“This is what I was going to tell you today. Moving to Boston doesn’t mean I don’t still want to see you…”

She heard his whole brief speech. Marc had thought it over for weeks, decided, and still didn’t think she was important enough to talk to her about it. That cut the breath right out of her.

“Beth, are you listening to me? We can make this work.”

“No.” Her voice was so soft she wasn’t sure he heard. They couldn’t make this work. And she couldn’t keep kidding herself. She wanted it all, and he wasn’t going to give it to her. She deserved more than that. She shouldn’t have let this go on this long. He didn’t want a relationship with her, and an ‘agreement’ couldn’t work anymore.

“No?” he asked, shocked.

“No. We can’t,” she said with the punch that had been missing until this moment.

“Why the hell not?”

“There are lots of reasons, but it all boils down to the fact that I love you, and you think I’m fun. I want forever, and you want sex when we’re in the same city. I deserve more than you’re offering. I need to move on to someone who can give me a future.”

He stared blankly, so she finished it.

“Goodbye, Marc. Good luck in Boston. I hope it’s what you’ve been looking for.” Her voice didn’t break. She took a step back, looked at him one last time, then turned and left him.