Delaney James was wearing Chanel the night her husband told her he didn't love her anymore.
In an instant, her picture-perfect Manhattan life-complete with a brownstone on the Upper East Side, a blossoming career as a fashion journalist, and a devas...
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Understanding why Greyson turned down the Cubs doesn't make it any easier to accept. If anything, it makes it harder.
Every reason he gave makes perfect sense. His father needs him – his family needs him. McKinnie Construction needs someone to take over while Stephen spends whatever time he has left focusing on his health instead of worrying about work. My career is finally beginning to bloom, surrounded by my family, my friends, and the people who have believed in me since long before anyone knew my name.
Everything we've built together is here.
What I can't seem to shake is the quiet voice in the back of my mind asking whether I'd be capable of making the same choice.
If Vogue called tomorrow and offered me the job I've spent years dreaming about, would I tell them no as confidently as Greyson told the Cubs? Would I be able to walk away from something I've wanted for as long as I can remember because the people I love need me somewhere else?
I want to believe I would.
I'm just not sure I can.
I don't think Greyson made the wrong decision. It actually makes me admire him even more. Dreams don't stop being dreams simply because life gives you a different path to follow, and I know turning it down couldn't have been as easy as he made it sound. Sometimes doing the right thing means letting go of the thing you've wanted most, and I don't know if I'm strong enough to do that.
Maybe that's what keeps bothering me.
Greyson steps into the shower while I get ready for bed. I brush my teeth and wash the makeup from my face, strip out of my clothes, and pull a nightgown over my head. As I move around the room, my eyes drift to the picture frames decorating the walls, shelves, and nightstands.
There are dozens of pictures of us, most from when we were kids and from the years we spent dating in high school. A few are from our trip to LA – another one of us smiling on the red carpet from a different angle and one of us standing in front of Cinderella's Castle wearing matching mouse ears at Disneyland. Mixed in between are pictures of his family: his parents, Cole and Lydia on their wedding day, and a handful of him with his niece and nephew.
I run my fingers over the frame holding a picture of our high school baseball team in the middle of celebrating our state championship. I'll remember that day for the rest of my life. My gaze shifts to another photograph of Greyson, Mitchell, Wyatt, and Cash crowded around a fire at Dawson's Beach when they were teenagers, all sunburned cheeks and crooked smiles, sitting beside one from this summer's Fourth of July bonfire.
So much has changed since then, and somehow, so much hasn't.
There are pictures from his baseball career, too. Since he isn't wearing a Cardinals jersey in any of them, I assume they're from his years in the minors. I lean in, studying the faces around him until I recognize Bodie and Kutter standing beside him in one of the photos.
