Hello again, everyone. We're getting down to the end of things, so hold on to your hats. Enjoy!

Chapter Eleven

It was the weekend of the softball tournament. Simon had called Mondrich and told him he wouldn't be able to make it, as he was staying longer with family in England. Mondrich likely saw right through him, but he was a truly great friend, because he let Simon off the hook anyway, despite him being the best fielder on the team.

He didn't think he could face Daphne again. Not because he thought she couldn't handle it—he was more than certain she could. She was leagues stronger than he was. Despite all of his inner turmoil, he was proud of her. She had actually talked to her family, told them what was bothering her, changed what bothered them about her, or at least started to, or and seemed to have completely fixed her relationship with her family. As much as you can completely fix anything relationship between humans.

"Well, you look quite broody today." Lady D's perpetually—and aggravatingly—insightful voice sounded from behind his shoulder. He turned to find her watching him from over the rim of her tea cup, one eyebrow cocked knowingly.

"You couldn't even see my face." Simon tried to turn on the charm. He knew there was a very slim chance it would work on her, but it was the only defense mechanism he had left.

"It was all in the demeanor." She strode over, taking a spot at the chair next to him. "Would you care to tell me why you're looking so dour today?"

"Not particularly." She might have been the closest thing he'd ever had to a mother, but men had to be permitted to have some secrets. Even from those who raised them.

"Oh, come on, Simon. You've been like this since the wedding. I thought it was bad before the wedding, but this has only gotten worse. You always were quite a moody one, and I can't blame you for that. But you were getting better." She nodded her head to indicate the past, he could only assume she meant his past with Daphne. "Even if you aren't together now, you don't need to change back to how you used to be."

"I don't know how to be this way without her." He grunted the admission, half hoping she wouldn't hear it.

"Of course you do. You simply need to acknowledge to yourself that it has happened." She paused for a moment to take him in. "Everyone changes. It is an unfortunate side effect of the human condition. Every interaction changes us on some level. Some people come in and out of our lives quickly, others last a long time. But they all teach us something. That's how you live now without her. Remember what she taught you about life and about yourself."

Simon mulled it over. "You don't think I'm too closed off to get past this?"

"Closed off, possibly." She chuckled. "But Simon, you're the most stubborn and determined person I have ever met. When you put your mind to something, you never fail. If you want to move on from her, you will." She sent him one of her annoying motherly smiles. "Of course, if you don't want to, you don't need to."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What does that mean?"

"Daphne loves you." Simon's eyed widened. No one else had been outside when she had admitted that. "Don't look at me like that, I have eyes. The girl loves you, and love is all about forgiveness. She has chosen to forgive you for the hurt you've caused, justified or not. If you chose to do the same, this problem might just disappear."

"What if I'm not ready to forgive her?" It was his greatest fear. He knew she had forgiven him, and he could even acknowledge that he had wronged her. He just wasn't sure he'd be able to get over it in his own head. Forgiving her meant admitting to himself that he might have been wrong about having children.

"Then you don't need to. It is entirely up to you." Lady D smiled at him the way only a mother can. "Though I think your therapist might encourage you to find forgiveness somehow."

And she got in the last word, the way only a mother can.

Simon found himself in Hastings that day, craving some time to himself. He'd been in town for all of five minutes before he felt his stomach unclench. He had a complex relationship with Hastings. He'd been raised there. Nowhere else in the world felt more like home. But it was also the site of all of his memories of his father.

It was like surfacing above water. Like Simon could breathe again for the first time in longer than he could remember. Just being in the spot where he grew up, feeling both anxious and at peace, caused something to click inside of him.

All of the bad feelings and memories he had of his father, all of his reactions to the abuse and neglect, it was all still there. But so were his memories of Lady D, and summers home from university with Anthony, and finding out he'd been chosen for the position at Duke.

None of the terrible memories could remove the good ones. In fact, the more he focused on the good ones, the more the bad ones seemed to fade into the background. Maybe it had just taken time. Maybe seeing Daphne learn to grow and change made him more willing to do it. Maybe it was simply the therapy. But whatever the cause, he was starting to heal. And he knew that meant he was capable of more.

Before the realization could finish hitting him in the head like a bag of bricks, Simon's phone rang. He supposed it was a blessing in disguise that he'd forgotten to turn his cell phone off before arriving in Hastings. At least that way, he could escape into whatever fresh antics Anthony had waiting for him on the other end of the line. "Bridgerton."

"Basset." Simon could almost hear the nod in Anthony's voice. Despite his relationship with Daphne being over—at least for the time being—things hadn't seemed to settle back to normal between the two men. "I hear this weekend is the big softball tournament at your university."

"It is." Simon wasn't sure where Anthony was going with this, but he was certain the information had come from Daphne.

"And yet you are in Hastings." Anthony's aggravatingly smug tone didn't seem to be irking Simon as much as it had been recently. It seemed his concerns about Anthony had been largely assuaged between Daphne's growth and Simon's own. "I take it there's a good reason for that."

Anthony was giving him an opening. For the first time, Simon decided he should move forward rather than dodge. "There is."

Anthony seemed to be giving Simon time to answer. It was odd for Anthony, but it was comforting.

Simon wasn't quite sure where to start or where to go, but it had to be somewhere. "I needed to come back to Hastings and see if I felt any different now than I have in the past. When my father was alive, all I could think of when I was here was him. All I could think of when I wasn't here was him. I could not escape his shadow." Simon had never admitted that out loud before, though Anthony's lack of reaction made him think the other man had already figured that out for himself. Amazing how perceptive one could be about others and how blind about them self.

"I think I lived in that trapped feeling for so long that I forgot it was there. Until I was with Daphne. She got me talking about him again."

"You'd told me about him." Anthony finally spoke up.

"I know. I told you what happened, but I didn't tell you how I felt about it. I didn't tell anyone how I felt about it. I can tell you knew, and Lady D knew. And when Daphne got too close, when she…suggested we try something—" Simon kept his phrasing vague to avoid having to discuss having condomless sex with Daphne with her brother. "—that was perfectly reasonable given how our relationship was working, it just forced me to see all of the things I had been pushing away for so long. Maybe she needs to work on her boundaries, but what hurt the most was that I had to look at the parts of myself I didn't want to see."

Anthony remained silent, and Simon continued on. "I didn't want to think any more about it, but whatever time I spent with her had already changed me. I couldn't stop thinking about it after that. And then I saw her at the wedding, and she just looked so… happy. It gave me the push I needed to actively try to do something about it. I talk to a therapist a few times a month now. I think the fact that I'm telling you this means that it's working."

"Can't argue with that." Anthony finally spoke up.

"Why are you calling me now?" Simon asked.

"Thought you might want to talk." Simon could practically hear the shrug.

"You're psychic then?" It was a great excuse to lighten things up with some humor.

"I talked to Daphne last night. I thought I might be able to give you a push to get your head out of your ass."

"You want me to get back together with your sister?" Simon was a bit surprised by this turn of events.

"The only person I could think of in the world that's good enough for her is you. No matter how much of a bloody dolt you've been."

"Well, I suppose I can't dispute that." Simon smiled to himself. This felt as close to his typical rapport with Anthony as he'd had in quite a while.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I refuse to run through a damn airport or any of that nonsense." Simon shook his head. He would not reduce himself to the parody of Bridget Jones' Diary or whatever other rom com was around these days.

"You have to do something." Anthony was clearly shaking his head on the other end of the line. "I will not allow you to fritter away this opportunity because of misplaced pride. You love her. She will not care about your pride when you're admitting you want to be with her."

"Old habits die hard. I've been ruled by pride for twenty years. It's hard to let go of it." An admission Simon didn't think he would make.

"If there's one thing I know about Daphne, it's her ability to appreciate the effort you put into something. Whatever the outcome, she will recognize the emotion it took to make it happen." While Anthony had next to no insight into his own psyche, Simon had to admit he knew Daphne quite well. Anthony was right about her disposition—it was one of the things that made her such a good teacher. "So?"

"So?" And yet, Simon knew what he needed to do. He had been in Hastings all of ten minutes, and was already looking for a way back to London.

"I hear the gears turning," Anthony's smug voice piped up. "I think my work here is done."

Anthony disconnected the call, and Simon called his driver.

Oddly, it was not incredibly hot. Daphne was taken aback by the lack of oppressive heat in North Carolina in August. It had been scorching and sticky in January, and now there was a bit of a breeze on the university's recreational softball field.

Perhaps she had just finally acclimated to her new life.

"I know we're down a man," Mondrich said, hoping to encourage the team. They had made it most of the way to final game with little trouble, despite having to play a backup in place of Simon. Mondrich moved Friedrich to second base, and one of the Arabic professors took on Friedrich's usual post in left field. The semifinal had given them trouble, but an unexpected home run from Varley had led them on to the championship. "But we've come this far. We can pull this off. Focus on the basics. Most of you are veterans of this tournament. Varley, think about your position—I want you out deep for the top half of their lineup and in closer after their fourth batter. Friedrich, keep it up with those athletic catches. Your arm isn't your strength, your glove is. Daphne, that bat has been hot, have confidence in yourself at the plate. Are we ready to get out there?"

The huddle cheered and dissolved. Daphne knew they were fielding first, so she pulled her cap low on her forehead and took her spot on third base. First up to bat was a chemistry professor with a wicked swing. She'd hit a triple to end the semifinal, and thanks to Mondrich's training over the summer, she actually knew what a triple was. She, for perhaps the first time ever, truly felt prepared for what was ahead of her.

In this case, she was betting it was a hit down the third base line.

The chemistry professor squared up at the plate, took a deep breath as she stared down Rose at the mound, and…

The sound of a slamming car door took everyone out of the moment. Daphne looked up just in time to see a confident, striding Simon get out of an Uber. He waved down Mondrich at short stop. Mondrich clapped, a huge grin splitting his face. "Back to the original plan, liberal arts! Friedrich, back to left! Khan, you're batting DH. Simon! You saved our butts, man."

The liberal arts team did a double take at him quick change in confidence at their rearranged positions. But it was short-lived, when Simon walked onto the field, his gym shorts and sneakers betraying that he had indeed come with the intention of playing the championship game.

Daphne had no idea how he even knew they had made it to the championship, but he had to guess that Mondrich had been texting him updates, but she had no idea why. He must have spent quite a bit of time on airplanes in the last few days to have made it here by now.

They made eye contact, but the umpire clearly wanted the game under way. They didn't speak as he made for the gap between her and Mondrich at short stop. Rose turned back to the batter and the first inning was underway.

They made it into the seventh inning—the last, because recreational staff softball blessedly only had seven innings in a regulation game—before Simon approached. Daphne stood off at the end of the dugout, watching Friedrich at bat. Simon took a spot next to her, silently watching at her side. He was up after Friedrich, so she assumed he was getting ready to go.

"You're pretty good for just having picked up a glove a handful of weeks ago." He said the words softly, his eyes still on the field. She supposed it was some kind of peace offering.

"Thank you." She tried to quiet the pounding in her heart, but the damn thing wouldn't listen. "Mondrich isn't wrong, your arm is doing wonders for our fielding. He doesn't have your reach."

"Well, not many do. It's a wonder I'm not in professional softball." It was just like him to toot his own horn. She almost snorted.

"That would be something, considering it's a women's league."

That got him to turn towards her. "I've missed your banter."

"Ah, yes, my sharp wit. It is what I'm known for." Her voice was as light as she could make it, but she felt it wasn't as convincing as she wanted it to be. His admission sent her pounding heart all the way to the races.

"Biting, no. But it is sharp. You have a way of making your point, Daphne Bridgerton." Simon turned to her fully now. She wasn't sure that was a good idea, but it seemed Friedrich was fouling off every pitch he saw, which meant he would likely remain at bat for a good while.

She could feel Simon's eyes on her face, so she kept her expression firmly schooled in the neutral position. "Thank you. I think."

"It's one of the things I love about you." His voice remained as firm as ever, no wobble detected. He was certain of the words coming out of his mouth.

It actually hit her that he had used one specific word. In the present tense, at that. "Wh—"

Friedrich shanked a ball to right field, where the fielder caught it easily in his glove.

"Looks like I'm up." Simon winked as he made his way to home plate. She watched those forearms, the ones that continued to haunt her when she closed her eyes, flexed as he brought the bat up to his shoulders.

A single swing to a pitch dead in the strike zone sent the ball sailing over the fence. Cheers broke out in the dugout as Simon, Rose, and Varley brought in three runs. The winning runs.

As they crossed home plate, it was into the waiting arms of the liberal arts team. Daphne would have thought they won the Premier League with the way everyone was carrying on. The chemistry department made their way over for good-natured congratulations. She had been swept up by the team, and was giving Rose a hug before she really knew what was happening.

It was a relatively short celebration, which was to be continued at Bull Durham, one of the bars right by the university's campus, and a fitting place to celebrate an accomplishment on the diamond. The field was clearing before she knew it.

She was still largely reeling from Simon's use of the word "love". She would think it was an oversight, except for the fact that he was the most deliberate person she knew. He didn't do anything without thinking it through. Suddenly, she realized she was standing by home plate when everyone else had moved on to the parking lot.

"I told you I should be a professional." Simon's teasing voice caused her to spin around in surprise.

"You said 'love'." It was the only thing that was in her head, and thus, the only thing that came out of her mouth.

"I crushed a home run over the deepest part of the field to win the game. A three-run home run, nonetheless." He seemed maddeningly obsessed with ignoring her.

"Present tense." And she was determined to get an answer. Her brain would not drop the topic otherwise.

"Indeed, present tense. It's been quite a while since university, but I'm fairly certain that means currently, or happening now. You're a professor, I would think you'd be aware of its definition." His lips quirked slightly to the side. He took pleasure in getting her flustered.

Of course he did. He'd seen her blush all the way down her body.

"I know what it means." She felt like her brain was finally connected to her mouth again. "I don't know why you said it."

"I said it because I love you." He stood there, arms at his sides.

"Why?" She blinked rapidly, trying to find a way to process that statement.

"I can't give you a reason, because there are a million of them." He stepped closer, slowly bringing himself into her space. "Honestly, there was never a time it wasn't true. There was only time I couldn't say it was true. Or wouldn't. I'm not quite sure. But I'm working on it with my therapist."

"Therapist. That's a change." Daphne made eye contact, starting to think there might actually be a chance this whole thing was real and not made up in her head.

"It's been helpful. In dealing with everything with my father, which hopefully, I'll have quite a long time in the future to tell you about." He inched forward again. "I can't guarantee my feelings about having children will change. But I can say, I'm not rejecting the idea out of panic anymore. That's the best I can do right now. And I wanted to be honest with you about it—I wasn't before, and I should have been."

"Learning from your mistakes. Is that personal growth I sense?" The pounding of her heart, if it had ever stopped, was back again.

He ignored her again. "This all presumes you actually still feel that way about me. Which is a big if, because I've been an ass on a fairly regular basis recently."

"That you have." Daphne could feel that confidence she'd been building for the past month or two welling up again. She closed the remaining space between them, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. "I think I might be able to forgive you."

"What do you think it'll take to make that happen?" His smile grew a bit wider, picking up on her game.

"Tell me you love me again."

"I love you." And Simon finally kissed her again. It had been months since she'd felt his soft, full lips on hers. Since she'd tasted the fresh mint of his toothpaste—he always tasted the same, no matter what time of day she kissed him.

She pulled away before they got too carried away. "I love you, too."

"That's a relief." He grinned, and planted his mouth on hers again. This time, she let him get a little carried away.