Darren, Male, 53

	- Narrator, retired, father of Gwen and Victoria (Vic)

	- 5'11, beige skin, 195lbs, cropped greying brown hair

Audrey, Female, 15

	- High school student, daughter of Duncan and Theresa

	- 5'9, pale skin, 135lbs, light-green eyes, straight auburn hair over her shoulders

Gwen, Female, 15

	- High school student, daughter of Darren, sister of Victoria

	- 5'5, beige skin, 130lbs, shoulder-length wavy black hair

Victoria (Vic), Female, 14

	- Eighth-grade student, daughter of Darren, sister of Gwen

	- 5'3, beige skin, 115lbs, wavy neck-length light-brown hair

Theresa, Female, mid-50s

	- Mother of Audrey, wife of Duncan

	- 5'7, pale skin, 150lbs, shoulder-length auburn hair

Dee, Female, 40s

	- Woman from Buffalo

	- 5'6, beige skin, 140lbs, shoulder-length blonde hair

Duncan was dead within twenty-four hours. It was anti-climactic and, I think, a relief to get the call from Theresa just moments after I'd left to take my girls to the airport. She sounded resolved, though naturally upset. It had happened so quickly. It seemed a shame, in some ways, that the man hadn't had more time to spend with his family, but at least he didn't suffer over a long period of months.

I dropped the girls off and drove back to the house. Inside, I hugged Theresa and Audrey. A few tears were shed. Perhaps my embrace of the teen lasted longer than she might have wanted, but I found it hard to let go. She didn't resist and looked like she was glad I had held her as long as I did.

It was a very difficult line to walk, perhaps made easier because of the tragedy. It left me seeking to comfort and not pursue, to love but not be tempted to intimacy. It let me be Audrey's friend.

I didn't exactly plan how long I would stay. I'd checked out of the hotel and stashed my bag in the guest room. Audrey didn't go to school on Monday, but somehow she still spent time, despite her grief, on a project which was due in a few days. I kept my distance unless she sought me out, and I tried to do things to keep the household running.

Joyce and Herman flew up on Tuesday and I gave up the guest room and took a spot on the couch. Since they planned to stay with their daughter and granddaughter for a couple of weeks, I figured it was time for me to leave. Even with the funeral still upcoming, I was beginning to feel out of place. Unnecessary. Audrey didn't seek me out often, only once or twice even saying more than a couple of words to me. Theresa was on the phone making arrangements or meeting with attorneys or other planners. I did what I could, but with Joyce and Herman around, I was needed less and less by the hour.

So, on Tuesday evening, I sat in the living room as the others ate a late meal. I hadn't been hungry, so I'd excused myself to look up tickets to take me back to Houston the next day.

Audrey joined me on the couch nearby. "Going home?"

"I think it's time, don't you?" I asked gently. I'd been feeling like I was in the way since her grandparents had arrived, and despite their age, they were a whirlwind of activity, taking care of things before I had the chance to do so.

Audrey stared at my laptop screen a long time. She said quietly, "I never want you to leave..."

"Audrey..."

"I'm just saying what I feel, Darren," she said firmly. "It doesn't change things. It doesn't. But... it's still true."

"I know..."

"Will it always feel like this?"

"Which 'this'?"

"Hurting for each other."

"Not always, not always..."

She let out a long breath and then leaned on me, her head on my shoulder. I put an arm around her, but didn't draw her in tight. She said, "What's strange is... I don't really want the hurt to go away... It lets me remember what we had..."

I felt the lump in my throat a second before it stopped me from speaking. I cleared the phlegm and said, "I know... It is... hard..."

I felt Audrey's fingers slip into mine. I didn't stop her from squeezing my hand.

"Promise me something."

"What?" I asked gently.

"Be my friend. I don't want anything else. I just need to know you'll be my friend."

"I..." It would have been easy to just agree, but this was no easy thing to deal with. "I wish it was so easy to just shave off my feelings for you, Audrey. To forget them and just be friends. I'll try. But... it isn't easy..."

"I know," she said, distant, "but promise me you'll try."

"I promise."

- - -

I was back home by the next evening. If my girls were disappointed that their stay alone was short, they didn't say so. Duncan's funeral had been scheduled for Saturday, but it just didn't feel right staying. I'd done what I could for Theresa and Audrey, and with Joyce and Herman and lots of other relatives starting to pour into town, I wasn't really needed. Plus, it was hard to draw a line between my friendship for Audrey, and my love for her. I had been growing more anxious and stressed by the day. I'd needed to leave.

Gwen and Vic were calmer than usual. Perhaps the deep sadness they'd experienced was something new to them. I knew they'd known such times when their mother had suddenly died, but they had been very young then, and this was the first time since they'd become young women that they had needed to face something so final. Something so heartbreaking.

They'd both gone back to school on schedule and they did so throughout the week without complaint. Around the house, they stayed mostly quiet, either keeping to themselves or, at times, sitting with me in the living room while a movie played. I didn't much care what was put on. It was white noise to keep me from dwelling too deeply on Audrey.

- - -

The next week passed as cold syrup from a narrow tap. I suppose I recovered, somewhat. The aching went away slowly, the longing slightly less so. But as I settled back into my habitual routines, I was able to put some of the whirlwind weeks into my rearview and stop thinking as deeply about what I'd lost.

I sent Audrey a single text a day after I'd returned home, telling her that I hoped she was doing okay, that I was thinking of her, and I offered whatever I could to help her through the difficult time. She'd texted back a brief 'Thanks, I'm okay' and that was all I heard from her until a Thursday afternoon before the end of May.

I was sitting outside on the porch, sipping a scotch. Despite Duncan's death from cancer, I hadn't given up my afternoon cigarettes, though I was strongly considering doing so. I held one, half-smoked, in my hand as I read an old James Joyce novel. A call popped up on my screen from Audrey's cell and I answered after the third ring. "Audrey?"

"Hey... Darren," her voice said evenly. "How... how are you?"

I pursed my lips and responded, "As well as can be. How are things for you and your mom?"

"As well as can be..." Audrey replied.

There was a long silence, so I asked, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," she said, "I... I was just thinking. Um... I called you because... because my team is in the championship... on Saturday. You'd, uh... you'd said... before... that you might want to come up to see me play..."

"Audrey," I said, my heart fluttering before I calmed it and let out a long sigh, "that was before..."

"I know," she replied, and I could hear the disappointment in her tone, "I know... I just thought... nevermind. Sorry I called..."

"No, please," I said quickly, "don't be sorry. I'm... I'm really glad to hear your voice..."

"Yours too..."

"And congrats. Seriously, that's great."

"Thanks," Audrey replied, "I just, uh... I just thought I should call and tell you..."

I thought deeply a moment. Could I go see her play? Could I dare do that to us? Again? It had been very difficult to see her in Buffalo as her father died. How would this visit go? Could I stay just friends with her? It seemed, perhaps, her invitation suggested there was room for more between us. Just a hint of that. Maybe I was projecting. Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe I just wanted to see if I would be heartbroken again.

I paused so long that Audrey said, "Guess I'll go."

"No, uh. Wait. Audrey," I replied, "I'll come."

It was her turn to remain silent. I waited, and finally she said, "Darren... I... I don't want you to think the wrong thing... I'm... This won't change anything... I don't want you to come see me and think... and think..."

"I know," I said, trying not to let the disappointment come through in my tone. "Just as your friend. Okay?"

"Okay," Audrey replied. "Are you going to bring your daughters?"

"No," I said, "I don't think I will this time..."

"Ah," she answered. I wasn't sure how to interpret her brief, even response. "Well... if you want to stay here..."

"No," I said, cutting her offer short, "thank you, but... I think it would be best if I got a hotel room, don't you?"

"Yeah," Audrey responded. I could tell by her tone that her true feelings didn't quite match the way she'd spelled out how the invitation wasn't changing her decision about renewing our relationship. I was determined not to take advantage of that.

"I'll make the arrangements and text you my flight and hotel info. The game's on Saturday?"

"Yeah," Audrey replied, "three-fifteen."

"I'll do my best to be there."

"Thanks, Darren," she said. "Really... thanks."

"Of course. Nice to talk to you again, Audrey."

"You too..."

We hung up and in moments, I had booked a flight for the next morning. I let the girls know my plans, and, unlike usual, neither girl protested when I told them I was going alone. "And my flight is late enough to see you both off to school tomorrow. I plan to be back on Sunday. No parties."

They both agreed, then Vic asked me, "So are you and Audrey seeing each other again?"

I shook my head. "No... no, just friends now."

Vickie pursed her lips but didn't reply.

Gwen asked quietly, "Is this hard, Dad?"

I stared at my hands a moment, then nodded. "Very."

There was silence a moment before Gwen said softly, "Sorry..."

I swept my arms out and pulled my daughters to me for a hug. "It's fine, Gwen. You did nothing wrong. We'll be fine. I'll be fine. It just takes time..."

I held them a while, not wanting to let them go. Despite having lost my wife years earlier, despite having lost Audrey more recently, I knew I was still a very lucky man to have my daughters close to me when I just needed someone to hug. I soaked in their love and hoped they felt mine, as well. Just like losing their mother, it would take me time to fully get over Audrey. Fully being a relative term, of course. I never fully got over losing my wife, and I doubted I'd ever be able to forget what I'd lost in Audrey. I could only hope that in the days and weeks and months in the future when I saw Audrey, that loss would grow less and less tortuous each time.

- - -

I was in Buffalo by early evening. I texted Audrey to let her know I'd arrived and drove to my hotel. Theresa called me a while later and invited me for dinner, but I declined. I decided that the less I had to see and talk to Audrey, the better. I didn't want that closeness. I wasn't ready for that again. It still hurt too much, the pain of losing her too recent. I'd come up to watch her play softball, to play for her championship, as her friend, but beyond that, I hoped to do little to cause either of us to suffer from where we'd left things. I knew Audrey had her own doubts about the line she'd drawn, and I understood. Though part of me wanted to leap back into her arms, a bigger part of me didn't want this all to blow up again and cause me more heartbreak.

So I stayed in my hotel room watching baseball and NBA playoff games and I got to sleep early. The next day, I breakfasted at a small diner nearby, then returned to my room for a short nap. By one-thirty, I was showered, shaved, and dressed for the warm day ahead. Unlike when I'd been in Buffalo weeks earlier, the winter was long gone and the northern summer had arrived a few weeks early. It seemed it would be a perfect day for a ballgame.

Audrey had sent me the address of the field where she'd be playing. It was fortunate that the state championships were in Buffalo that year. I pulled up to the field around two, in time to watch two teams in a lower division battling out a 3-1 game in the sixth inning.

The stands were absolutely packed. I'd seen less seating at many minor league stadiums. I glanced around but didn't see Audrey anywhere. I supposed that was to be expected. She and her team would be in one of the many locker rooms in the large complex which featured a dozen diamonds and several smaller areas for fielding and cage practice.

I knew Theresa would probably be in the crowd somewhere, but I had no clue where to look. Before taking a seat high up on the first base side, I decided to wander the stands a while as the game played into the seventh inning.

"Darren!" I heard Theresa's voice from somewhere to my left as I got down close to the dugout. I scanned and then saw the woman rising from her seat in the second row about halfway down. She waved me to come to her, and I slowly made my way past a line of folks who had to shuffle legs and assume half-standing positions in order for me to slide by in front of them.

"Theresa, so good to see you again," I told her as she hugged me. There was a seat empty next to her and she prompted me to sit there.

"You as well," Theresa said. The lines on her face seemed to have doubled in size and depth in the spare days since I'd last seen her. Duncan's death had aged the woman years in a span of weeks. She continued, "Thank you so much for coming. Audrey was overjoyed that you'd decided to come."

"Overjoyed?" I asked.

"Yes," Theresa replied, "though... perhaps that is not something she wishes you to realize..."

"This is tough for us both, Theresa," I said. "Audrey made up her mind about us, and... I think she's right to do so. I don't want to risk my heart being broken again so soon, either..." It was an honest statement, though I knew that if Audrey expressed interest in renewing our relationship, I would eagerly risk such heartbreak to hold her that way again. "I came up to be her friend... I don't want to suggest more, and... I think Audrey feels the same way..."

"Perhaps..." Theresa said, "though I believe my daughter would like very much to restart your relationship."

"She got her heart broken. I cannot blame her for not wanting that again. I cannot blame myself for not wanting to hurt her, either."

The crowd roared as one of the hitting team's batters sent a ball soaring over the fence in left field, tying the score at three apiece. When the cheering had quieted down again, Theresa spoke close to my ear. "Duncan's words to you, Darren. Do you remember them?"

"I suppose. He told me to be patient."

"Patience, yes. That is the key."

"Easily said, Theresa. Much harder in practice. The further we go away from what Audrey and I had together, the less likely it is that either of us will want that again."

"Maybe so," she admitted, "maybe that is true. But... I love my daughter, Darren. I want her to be happy. I was against the two of you, at first, but you care for her. Even with your heart broken, even with you understanding Audrey's conflicting emotions about you, you came to see her in a moment like this. I know how much you care about her. Few in this world will ever match that. If not you, then I can only hope that whoever she chooses to spend her life with will hold her so close to their heart."

Whoever she chooses. I shivered. It was the first time I'd really considered that Audrey would, at some point, find another person to share her heart with. I supposed I should be happy about that. I wanted to move on, mostly, and part of that involved wanting Audrey to find someone else to cherish her the way I had. I wished I felt happy about that thought. Instead, I just felt horribly jealous.

"And you," Theresa said, continuing our conversation without a thought for my inner turmoil, "you should find yourself someone, too, Darren."

"Maybe," I replied, sighing, "I lived without a long time, you know. Audrey was a short break in a long pattern. I'll not so easily step into a relationship again. And I think you should know that Audrey doesn't exactly need someone in her life that way. She's very strong. Strong in ways few are." I suppose I added that last sentiment out of defensive jealousy, as if I was trying to convince myself that Audrey wouldn't need to date and make out and love and make love with some other guy. Even though I felt it was true, it came from a place I didn't exactly like about myself.

"Yes, I know, but," Theresa said, "Audrey loves deeply. You know this well. She will not be alone." It was a statement of fact, as if the woman was deliberately taunting the jealous defenses which had formed in my mind. For a few seconds, I hated her for that brutal honesty.

I held back barbed responses and tried to settle my mind anywhere but on the anonymous asshole future boyfriend who would one day know Audrey's love and intimacy. I hated my reaction. It was unjust. Unfair. And yet, I couldn't stop it. Just knowing Audrey's passion, her ability to love in such a mature way, made me long for her arms, and knowing, too, that the teen was not to be mine that way was as much as I could stomach without becoming physically sick. "I, uh... I need a drink..."

"Would you pick me up a lemonade?" Theresa asked. "I'll hold our seats."

I nodded and swept myself as quickly as possible down the row of shuffling fans and out towards the concessions. Instead of getting in line, I strode around to where I saw a handful of people smoking cigarettes nearby. I'd brought mine with me though I rarely smoked while traveling. Near an older woman layered in a sweater and jacket despite the day's heat and a young man in his twenties, I lit up and inhaled deeply, then sucked in another lungful.

"Can I get one of those?" a female voice said from my right as I leaned against the back of the concessions building.

I turned to see a blonde woman walking up to me and I reached into my pocket to pull out the pack of smokes and my lighter. "Sure."

"Thanks," she said, taking the pack and pulling out a cigarette, then she fired it up and handed both back. "I don't smoke often, but it seems like the day for it." The woman was probably in her mid-to-late forties, her skin beige and her blonde hair pulled back and into a neck-length pony tail. I guessed her for average height, or just under, maybe a few extra pounds but shapely. Her tight, black jeans and green t-shirt showed nice curves, though I was not in a frame of mind to much care.

"Oh?" I replied half-interested. I was still stewing on my own miserable jealousy and not terribly interested in conversation with a stranger.

"My ex-husband is here. Haven't seen that bastard in months."

"Ah."

She eyed me a moment, inhaling a hit of the cigarette, then said, "Sorry. I shouldn't be venting to a stranger. Hi, I'm Dee."

"Darren."

"Got a daughter playing today?" Dee asked.

I toked from my smoke, replying, "No. A friend."

"Which team?"

"Davis High."

"Oh, well that just stinks."

"Stinks?" I said, raising my eyebrows.

"My daughter is pitching for George Washington. They're playing Davis for the title in a few minutes."

"Ah, I see."

"And here I thought we might be friends," Dee said, smiling, "so much for that!"

I had to grin. "Well, it's not personal."

"Yeah, I know," Dee replied, "who's your friend on Davis?"

"Audrey Andrews."

"Ah! Figures. She's starting pitcher for them today." Dee shook her head, then looked down. "Sorry, I'm in odd sorts today. I think I was trying to flirt with you, but... I'm way ahead of myself. Apologies."

I chuckled, "Don't worry about it."

"You're not wearing a ring, so I thought... you know, maybe... Oh, screw it. I'm too old for this."

I shook my head. "I doubt that. I'm just not much good at being flirted with, I think. Been an odd day for me, too."

"Ex-wife here?"

I shook my head again. "No, no. An... ex... though." I certainly was not going to explain about Audrey.

"Takes the wind out of you sometimes, doesn't it? Makes you wonder how you ever got into a relationship with them in the first place, right?" Dee asked.

"Something like that," I suppressed a growl of frustration.

The crowd cheering began to rise steadily, and then a sudden spike signaled that the fans of the winning team had begun celebrating. I pulled out another cigarette and offered Dee a second. She took it and crushed her old butt with her tennis shoe.

"You aren't from up this way, are you?" Dee inquired. "Your accent isn't northern."

"No. I've been in Houston for many years."

"All this way to see a friend play ball? She must be a dear friend." Dee's words tore into me though she had no idea that what she said to me was painful. Dee continued, "I've lived in Buffalo all my life. Been divorced twice. The last one and I just a few years ago. I have our daughter most of the time, but he's taking her this weekend. I'll have a few minutes of quiet for a change."

"How old's your daughter?" I asked robotically. I didn't really care, but the part of my brain which knew how to keep a conversation going responded before I thought about it.

"Eighteen. She's graduating next week. Gonna play at Syracuse in the fall."

"That's great."

"And Audrey?"

I simply hated that Dee wouldn't stop instinctively poking my sore spots. "Fifteen. Graduating a year early. Going to University of Houston in a couple of years."

"Fifteen. Must be... a daughter of a friend, then?"

I said nothing a moment before replying curtly, "Yeah."

Dee studied me a moment, then looked away towards the porta-potties along one side of the property line. "Well... It's been nice chatting with you, Darren, and thanks for the smokes." She ground her last butt into the grass. "I should hit the john before the big game starts. Listen," she paused and touched my arm lightly, "After the game... I'm heading out to a place called Prancer's for a drink or two with a couple of friends... if... if you would like to join me..."

"I appreciate that, uh," I replied, "probably not."

"Had to ask. Take care, Darren," Dee said, turning towards the row of toilets. I barely noticed how nice her ass looked in those tight black jeans.

- - -

I was settled beside Theresa moments later after getting us both lemonades. I'm sure I smelled like cigarettes, and it was only after I'd sat down that I remembered what had probably caused Duncan's cancer. It had to be a very difficult thing for the woman to have to inhale that stench again.

The two teams took the field in a rush. It took me a moment to identify Audrey. She wore a white uniform with thin green pinstripes like the rest of her team, the number 26 on her back. Her hair was tucked up under her hat. If she even glanced in my direction as she played catch with one of her teammates, I never noticed. The look on Audrey's face was all business.

As the home team, Audrey took the mound to start the top of the first, and I watched with a mix of jealousy and joy as she tore through three batters in quick succession. They barely touched any of her pitches. As she neared the dugout just a dozen feet or so in front of me, I thought I saw her eyes glance up in my direction. Or, at least, she looked for her mother. I don't know. Audrey showed no sign of recognition either way.

Over the next six innings, Audrey and Dee's daughter, Claudia, dueled through a shutout. Audrey had given up only two weak singles and one walk. She was excellent. Her concentration was clear on her face, and every movement on the mound was deliberate and executed with care.

All I could think about was how some other guy would get to look upon Audrey one day and watch her play ball and think of how he couldn't wait to hug her and kiss her and make love to her. I wanted to be that guy. I'd never really been the jealous type, but I couldn't stop feeling it more strongly as the game went on. Each pitch made me see all that I had lost. It wasn't just that Audrey was beautiful, passionate, athletic, and smart, but it was so much more. It was her eyes when they were filled with delight, the crease in her brow when she was concentrating, the way the sweat wiped from her forehead glistened on the back of her arm. I loved every detail, every movement, every moment of Her.

And that just made my jealousy blossom into a monstrosity that horrified me. I should have been thrilled that Audrey was in a championship game, giving her all at something she loved, and doing as well as possible, yet I couldn't stop thinking about the next guy who would see her pitch, the next one she would kiss, the one who would be the second to share her bed.

I was so caught up in my jealous thoughts that I almost missed that Audrey was injured. A line drive had hit the dirt hard in front of the mound and bounced up at an odd angle. Audrey tried to field it, but the ball smacked against her glove-hand forearm. She managed to collect the spinning softball and quickly toss it to first for the out, but she soon clutched her arm and the trainer rushed on to the field, followed more slowly by the team's manager.

For several minutes, they checked her out. She shook her head several times, as if refusing to come out. Audrey was visibly pleading with the coach. Finally, she seemed to convince him, and took the ball from the umpire, circling the mound and shaking the pain from her arm.

As she stretched and got ready to throw again, I realized my jealousy had gone away for the few moments during Audrey's injury. I had felt compassion for her, and that, perhaps, gave me the strength to stop the jealousy from ruining the rest of the afternoon. It was still there, to be sure, but it was mixed with an understanding that the second guy to know Audrey intimately might just make her happy. I wanted Audrey to be happy, even if that meant it wasn't with me. It was a struggle, the way the two threads twisted in my mind, but I wasn't wholly consumed by the selfish thoughts which had swamped all else for over two hours.

The game dragged into the tenth, then the eleventh inning, still scoreless. Audrey was still pitching, though it was clear she was tiring. She'd allowed three hits in the previous two innings, and one had been a triple. The bottom of the eleventh came around, and Audrey led off.

She swung at a pitch and missed it badly. A second and third pitch came in outside for two balls. The fourth she fouled off.

And then the fifth pitch slammed through the middle of the plate, and Audrey unleashed. The bat speed I'd seen at the cages made it a blur to my eyes, the clang of the metal on the ball ringing in my ears. The crowd erupted and we all jumped to our feet as the ball sailed in a high arch out towards left-center field. We watched the fielder drifting back, gloved hand over head, then the girl turned and started running, running, jumping against the fence.

The ball must have missed the glove by inches, hitting the fence and ricocheting off to bounce into the huge gap in right-center. Audrey was on wheels, spinning around first, then second. By the time the right fielder scooped up the ball in her glove, Audrey was about to hit third. The third base coach spun his arm in a big circle, yelling for Audrey to rush home.

Audrey's arms pumped as the ball sailed in on target. The catcher was in place, leg blocking the plate, the ball bouncing twice before hitting her glove. Audrey slid, legs outstretch in front of her, off to the side a bit as the catcher's arm swept just over her head. As her momentum took her past the plate, Audrey spun to her side and pushed her fingers just over the edge of the black trim.

Safe.

The crowd went nuts. The umpire's call and her wide, flat arms made it clear the game had just ended on Audrey's inside-the-park home run. It couldn't have been more exciting.

I hugged Theresa, more excited than I realized. My jealousy was swept behind in those last moments, and all I could think about was how much I wanted to tell Audrey how proud I was of her.

There was a trophy presentation, and Audrey was rewarded with the Most Outstanding Player award for the tournament. I think I might have shed a tear or two. It was rather moving to see Audrey's hard work pay off.

I followed Theresa as the crowd slowly moved out of the stands. She knew where to go to meet the team and moments later, we waited beside a gate along one side of the field where parents and other supporters of Davis were standing.

The team came up from the diamond and rushed out to hug parents and siblings and friends. Theresa spotted Audrey first, the teen carrying a tall trophy. "Audrey!" Theresa shouted, drawing the girl to where we stood near the fence. The woman wrapped her arms around her daughter. The smile on Audrey's face was genuine and amazing. She was so beautiful. Even with the black grease smeared under her eyes and the sweat and grit from the dirt and grass coating her face, Audrey was gorgeous.

Her eyes flickered opened and she seemed to notice me for the first time. I thought I saw her smile begin to fade just a bit, but then she seemed to chuckle and her smile returned toothsome and broad. She passed the trophy to her mother and stepped to me.

"Darren... I'm so glad you came."

There was an awkward moment where neither of us was sure whether we should hug. It wasn't an easy decision. That potential hug brought with it a whirlwind of emotions, expectations, and possibilities. Audrey decided for us, reaching out her arms. I stepped into her and wrapped my own around her body.

My nose near her neck, I inhaled her scent. It was so Her. The sweat, the dirt, the unique aroma of her warm skin. All of it was Audrey. I shuddered at the memories of her scent in other, more intimate moments. "Congratulations," I finally said, "you were amazing out there."

"Thanks," Audrey replied, slowly breaking her grip on my body. I let go hesitantly. She added, "I didn't think I was going to make home for a second. It was really close!"

"Quite a way to finish a great season, I think," I said, "and a big trophy of your own to boot."

She glanced at her mom holding the MOP trophy. "I did my best. So did my team. They were amazing, too. And really, so did GW. They were really hard to beat today. It could easily have been them winning instead of us."

"That's the way it should be," Theresa said, "but I'm thankful you came out on top."

"Audrey," said a short, stocky teen teammate, "we're getting ready to head out. Still coming?"

I saw Audrey hesitate, her eyes looking at me. Was she asking me an unspoken question? Was there hope in her eyes? Was there pity? I had no idea what kept her from responding immediately. Whatever was in her thoughts, it was me that was complicating things. "Uh... yeah. Yeah, give me just a minute."

The teammate walked off towards another teen and Audrey turned back to me. "We, uh... we're going to celebrate at a pizza place downtown."

Audrey was too smart, and I knew her well enough to know that she had intentionally not invited me to go with her. I wasn't sure whether that was a relief or a disappointment. "Of course," I replied as politely as I could, "uh... congrats again, Audrey."

She watched me a moment. I read her expression as sad acceptance. "Really, thanks, Darren. For coming to see me play..."

"It was my pleasure. Enjoy your party."

"L-leaving tomorrow, then?"

I nodded, "I am..."

"Would you join us for breakfast before you go?" Theresa suggested. Audrey watched me closely.

"N-no... No, I don't think that... I don't think so..."

We stood in silence, Audrey and I looking at each other. I hated that she looked sad in so happy a moment. I forced myself to smile. "Listen. It's been fun, and thanks for thinking about me enough to invite me to see you. Enjoy this. You just won a championship! Go celebrate and enjoy it!"

Audrey's smile returned, though a touch muted. "I will." She stuck out her hand towards me. I didn't miss that it wasn't a hug. "Goodbye, Darren. Have a safe trip home."

"Take care."

Audrey hugged her mother again and set off towards where her team was piling into a waiting bus. Theresa asked me, "I'd offer to make dinner, but the heat and the sun has me feeling very tired. I think I shall return home for a nap."

We hugged and I wished her well, then walked back to the concession stand to smoke another cigarette.

While I did, I watched the parking lot slowly empty as my thoughts turned over.

It felt like Audrey and I had faced the honest truth about us, and we'd silently agreed to finish the wall between us. I felt a bit hollow. I suppose I'd come to Buffalo with some unconscious hope for a future relationship with the teen. I knew she hadn't ruled it out, that her decision to not renew had been reasonable but not necessarily permanent. I hadn't exactly set out seeking that, but after my jealous hours and the way I'd reacted to the understanding that Audrey would, by definition, move on from me to some other guy, I'd realized how that seed of hope had remained inside me all that time. When Audrey reached out her hand to shake mine instead of hugging me, it was clear that there would be no reconnection, no rekindling of what we'd had. It was like drowning in the ocean.

It made me feel very alone.

That's why I decided to punch Prancer's into my rental car's GPS and drive there instead of heading back to my hotel room. I don't know what I was expecting to do once I found Dee, but I didn't want to be by myself in those hours.

I pulled into the parking lot and realized immediately that Prancer's was a strip club. It seemed like an odd choice for Dee to meet a couple of friends for a drink, but I didn't judge and didn't turn around and leave. I straightened my clothes and hoped there was no dress code. I'd worn simple slacks and a mixed-fabric collared casual shirt with sneakers. I hadn't even brought anything more presentable on the trip.

I stepped up to the security line and waited while a couple of guys were checked out, then was passed inside by the two thick-necked black-shirts by the door.

Inside, the club was much like others I'd seen in my twenties and thirties. Dark interior with gaudy lights of various colors. Spotlights around the main stage and the two side stages. A long L-shaped bar was along two walls, tables and booths in arcs around each raised dance floor. The music was some pop song with techno beats, blaring almost to the point of being rather annoying. Maybe I was just getting old.

I scanned the room but didn't see Dee anywhere. Perhaps she hadn't arrived yet. Perhaps she'd gone elsewhere. Perhaps she'd lied.

Whatever it was, I sat at the bar and ordered a scotch, then turned to see the dancer on the main stage spinning around the shiny pole. It was apparently a topless club, not full nudity, because the slim asian woman, probably in her mid-twenties, kept her thin, leather panties on while she twirled on the pole, her small but lovely light-brown breasts jiggling as she danced.

Maybe it was the fact that I'd only rarely seen a half-naked woman over the past few years in the same room with me, but the sight of the dancer's tits was arousing. Maybe it was that plus the fact that I downed a scotch and was already halfway through a second.

"Darren?"

I turned to see Dee stepping up to the bar. She'd put on makeup and a white, body-hugging one-piece club dress which left little to the imagination. Dee's curves were lovely and showed clearly as she slid onto the seat next to me. "Hey, Dee."

"Didn't think you were going to come by..."

"Changed my mind." I looked around the room. "Interesting spot for a drink."

She grinned and nodded to the bartender. "I used to dance here. Years ago, then I tended bar until last year. Kinda my goto spot."

"I'm sure you did well," I said, unable to keep my eyes from drifting down over her body.

Dee giggled, "Pretty well, yeah. Look, we're sitting just over there," she said, pointing, "would you like to join us?"

I shrugged, "Might as well."

"Great. Sherry," Dee said, calling to the tender, "please put his drinks on my tab."

"Oh, you don't need—"

Dee held up her hand and said, "My treat. Besides, I still get a discount here. I invited you, it's only fair."

I shrugged again and ordered another scotch, then followed Dee to the booth along one side of the main stage. Seated already were two women about Dee's age. One was a busty straight-banged brunette in a dark-yellow dress much like Dee's. "This is Melissa," Dee told me as I shook the woman's hand, then she said, "and this is Anne." The second woman was a brunette as well, though with lighter brown and curly hair.

"Darren," I said, shaking Anne's hand, "nice to meet you both."

"Sit," Dee said as she settled into the booth. I slid in beside her.

I sat quietly, sipping my scotch as the dancer left the stage and the music died down for a moment.

Dee said, "Congrats to your team today. That was a helluva game."

"It was. Sorry your girl had to lose, but she pitched as well as Audrey."

"Yeah. She did great. She's disappointed, but she's okay. They went off to celebrate anyway. They won it all last season, so they still have that."

"Well, they put up a fight today. Both teams did."

Melissa spoke up, "So... are you Audrey's father, then?"

I shook my head, "No... no, just a family friend. I live in Houston. Audrey's father... Duncan... he died just a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, no... I'm so sorry," Dee replied.

I nodded, "Thanks. It was tough, as I'm sure you can imagine. But Audrey and her mom are doing okay."

The depressing subject dampened everyone's enthusiasm a moment. Then the music picked up and the announcer informed those of us watching that 'Amber' was coming on stage.

"Oh, good!" Dee exclaimed, "I was hoping she'd go on soon. She is such a doll!"

And so I sat and watched Amber as she sauntered out to a thumping beat wearing a schoolgirl outfit complete with a white, button-up shirt and a green and black plaid skirt. As she twirled and danced, Amber, a blonde probably in her late-twenties, pulled one piece of clothing off after another, soon leaving only a pair of skimpy white panties barely covering her genitals and butthole. Her tits were clearly implants, and they hung heavily each time she leaned over.

I hadn't thought to bring any cash, not knowing it was a strip club. When I'd started to head to the ATM inside the club, Dee had stopped me and assured me they would cover everything. She and her friends threw dollars onto the stage, passed them to Amber, or, giggling, slipped them into the thin panties around the woman's waist.

I was steadily growing buzzed and aroused.

I suppose it wasn't much of a surprise to feel Dee's hand slide onto my thigh just as Amber bent over, away from us, and we could see everything but the slit between her legs. I looked over to see Dee grinning at me, and I returned her expression, letting my hand slide onto Dee's thigh. The warmth soaked into me and I shuddered.

We watched Amber finish and Dee's fingers were sliding along my inner thigh, dangerously close to where my erection was pressing out my slacks. I saw Melissa glance down to see what Dee was doing and she smiled at me, then turned to whispered to Anne.

Dee leaned close to me and pushed her lips to my ear. "Listen... I'm feeling rather horny right now and I'd love to take you into one of the rooms in the back..."

It was probably the combination of the booze and the general arousal and the loneliness that led me to nod and agree. I stepped out of the booth and followed Dee through a curtain and past a couple of bouncer types. She stopped short in front of one of them and passed the man a small wad of cash. He grinned and swept his arm towards one of the partitioned areas behind him.

The music of the club was still pounding but muffled through the walls as Dee drew back a red curtain and held it while I stepped inside. I'd been in such places only once or twice in my life. Usually, these were the 'rooms' where performers could give patrons more private dances. Sex was always off limits, as was touching, usually. I suspected that wasn't the case for Dee and me.

Before I could sit, Dee pushed me down and climbed on top of me. The look in her eyes said everything. She kissed me deeply and I didn't resist. No, in fact I kissed her back with a passion I didn't know was in me. Her hand caressed my groin and I pawed at Dee's tits, freeing them easily by pushing the top of her dress down. The large mounds were heavy and she moaned as I fondled them. I drew down and sucked on one nipple, then the other as Dee unzipped and unbuttoned me and pulled out my hard cock. With her other hand, she reached into her purse and ripped a condom from a small package, then quickly rolled it down my length.

She pulled her dress up to her waist. I had a brief glimpse of her bald, pink pussy just before she sank down and took me inside her cunt. I groaned my approval and grabbed her waist. Dee started to hump me and I met each thrust. We kissed and my hands pawed her tits, then wrapped around to grab her buttocks, squeezing them. I fucked her as hard as she fucked me. I felt myself starting to edge closer to orgasm and for once in my life, I didn't care that Dee hadn't yet cum.

I groaned and let go, filling my condom with seed, moaning as Dee kept humping me. She only seemed to realize that I'd orgasmed when my dick softened and slipped from her hole. She grinned, "Guess you were horny, too!"

Before she could move further, I spun her onto her back and spread her legs. The scent between her legs was arousing, a mix of wet pussy and latex and perfume. I lapped Dee's wet folds, spreading her labia wide to let me push my tongue deep into her vagina. I slipped two fingers inside and found the rough patch along the top, flicking her clit with my tongue while I rubbed and pressed her G-spot.

Dee started to shudder, her hips rising, her thighs flexing. She cried out and I felt her hole clench tight around my fingers. I kept up the pressure, and soon thin, clear ejaculate spurted out of her pussy. Two or three small but strong jets hit my neck and ran over my shirt. I kept fingering her, licking her, and moments later, a smaller squirt shot out as Dee came again.

Without removing the filled condom, I rose to my knees and pulled her forward on the low couch, sliding my covered cock back into her messy cunt. She cried out, her legs rising to my waist, her arms on my shoulders. We rutted quickly, slamming our bodies together. I tried to fuck away all the frustrations and the jealousy and the disappointment, using Dee as the outlet for all my worries and pains and heartbreak.

She came again and I started to burn inside her. I grunted with each thrust, my sweat dropping onto her stomach and thighs, our bodies glistening and wet. Her eyes were closed, her pussy becoming loose and deep. I slipped out a time or two. I barely noticed that some of the cum in the condom had begun to run up the length of my cock, some squishing out to streak along Dee's labia. I didn't care in that moment, pounding away every bad thought I'd had that day, that week, that year.

I spewed a second load, my cock on fire, pulsing, clenching, my ejaculation so strong I felt like the tip of my dick had swelled and become raw.

I breathed very heavily, my eyes closed, my body held tight against Dee's. I barely felt her presence, using the release to fight back whatever ill thoughts sought to push in. Her pussy was really wet, I realized. Really wet.

I opened my eyes to see Dee looking down between us. "I think the condom broke," she told me quietly.

"Shit," I groaned, slowly pulling back to reveal that, yes, the condom had broken badly. All the cum from my previous orgasm along with my second was now slowly leaking out of Dee's vagina. "Shit." I repeated.

"It's okay," Dee said, "I've got what I need to clean it out. I, uh... I'm clean, by the way."

"That's what they all say," I chuckled with black humor, "but I am as well."

"Wait here." I shuffled onto the low couch and sank into the cushions. Dee slid onto her feet and reached into her purse, pulling out wipes and using them to clear away the cum leaking from her pussy. She righted her dress quickly, then swept out of the room and disappeared.

The second she left, it crashed into me how things had so irrevocably changed that day. I'd had a small but ever-present hope to renew my relationship with Audrey. Instead, we'd made a sort of agreement that such hope was in vain, and instead of dwelling on how that might be undone, I'd ensured it was in stone by fucking another woman I barely knew. I didn't feel guilty about the casual sex with Dee. I felt guilty, for whatever reason, that I had betrayed Audrey in some way. I knew it was ridiculous, that Audrey and I weren't dating, and I had no reason to be celibate for her. But I thought she deserved my faithfulness, if only so that I would remember how special Audrey was. How irreplaceable. How much she made me feel special.

Dee's company wasn't ill or undesired, but she wasn't Audrey, and the sex we'd had, though powerful and much needed in some ways, wasn't romantic, wasn't full of tender touches and an understanding that we'd be doing more than just making love together.

I hated that I'd crushed that unspoken promise to her. It was silly, I knew. Audrey had never asked me to refrain from seeing other women after we broke up. She had no right to do so, just as I had no right to expect her to be celibate moving forward. Just as I had no right to be jealous because some other guy would, one day, come to know her intimately.

I felt so bad that I yanked up my pants and fled the room and the club. I raced to my car and drove away before Dee or her friends could see me again. I hated what she might think about me, about the guy she'd just met and fucked at the strip club, the guy who had accidentally cum inside her pussy, but I really didn't care. I'd popped whatever thin bubble of hope was left for me and Audrey, and I knew it. That alone made me seek to shut myself in my hotel room and feel awful, alone, as I deserved.

- - -

In the room, I lay on my back on the bed in the darkness. I'd been letting my mind swirl, trying to rationalize things. It was over with Audrey. I'd thought I'd dealt with that before, but apparently I had not. It was only when she stuck out her hand instead of offering a hug, and then I'd later stuck my dick in Dee, that it was slammed home that Audrey and I were through. I didn't cry. I was past that. I missed her terribly, but it was not to be.

To make matters worse, my phone rang and I turned it over to see that Audrey was calling me.

I couldn't answer it.

She left a message and I took my time before listening to what she'd said.

"Uh, hey Darren. It's Audrey. I, uh... Just wanted to tell you thanks, again, for coming up." I could hear noise in the background from a busy restaurant. "It meant a lot to me. I... I just want you to know... I'll never forget us, Darren. Whatever happens, I'll never forget us. You'll always be really special to me. I know... Believe me, I know how hard this is... I really know... But... Thanks... for everything, Darren..."

The message ended and I felt numb. I was thankful I hadn't taken her call. I might have felt that seed of hope return. It was there, in her tone, even as she, in so many words, told me goodbye. I knew we would see each other soon enough. She was going to live next door in a few weeks, for God's sake, but she was telling me goodbye romantically. I felt it. I knew it. And yet, there in her tone was just a hint that she wanted a different path. A different resolution. Goddamn I hated seeds of hope like that. They just prolonged the suffering.