A/N: Happy Thanksgiving and now Black Friday to all my US readers! Hope you all had wonderful days with family yesterday.

Yes, I know that the Astros' affiliation with the Grizzlies doesn't start until the 2015 season, but I could not pass up the incredible coincidence that occurred earlier in the fall when the new association was announced. I lived in Houston for eight years, and I lived in Fresno for eight years also (after a brief wonderful one year stint in Pensacola). So, I'm indulging in artistic license here. I had a reviewer comment that she had never seen anyone use Brownsville, TX in a fanfiction. Well, I'm pretty sure this is Fresno's fanfiction debut, too. Good ol' Fresno. And as they say in the 'No…Why say Fresno when you can say Fresyes?

Also, back in Chapter 16, I gave Edward the jersey #20. One of my reviewers commented that she wished I'd made him #31 so she could imagine him as Greg Maddux, one of the dominant Cy Young award winning pitchers who played for the Braves in the 1990's. Well, I liked that idea, but I was always more of a Tom Glavine girl. So, I went back and updated Chapter 16 and made Edward wear #47. You'll see that change reflected here in this chapter!

Thanks to my pre-reader Cejsmom!

Chapter 23

May 5, 2014

The sky was a brilliant, clear blue when the plane took off from Phoenix for the second leg of my flight. The brown of the desert gave way to the deep green and white of the snow-capped Sierra Nevada as we crossed over into California. Finally, the landscape changed into something resembling a patchwork quilt. I recognized the agricultural makeup of the San Joaquin Valley below me as I leaned my forehead against the tiny window. I gazed skeptically at the brownish haze we were descending through in order to land at Fresno-Yosemite International Airport.

Fresno was no exotic vacation destination, but I was using my first vacation days in years to travel there. Edward would pitch tomorrow with the Astros AAA affiliate team, the Fresno Grizzlies. It would be his first time back on the mound since last year's injury-plagued season, and I planned to see it. If things went well, he could be back with the Astros as early as a week or two.

We taxied toward the tiny terminal building. I had refused to allow Edward to buy me the ticket and almost swallowed my tongue when I saw how much it would cost. Apparently, the lack of airlines using the small airport led to little competition and high fares. I could have flown to Hawaii for a similar amount. I did agree when Edward insisted on meeting me, saying taxis were expensive and somewhat hard to come by in the relatively small city.

Edward met the team in Albuquerque over the weekend to begin practice. The Grizzlies had lost all three games. Apparently, they weren't very good this year and having Edward start a game for them was cause for great excitement. The game was sold out. I, however, had a ticket in the section just above the dug out reserved for family members. I would be sitting with Edward, Sr. and Elizabeth Masen, but I was trying hard not to think about that right now.

I bent my head and carefully made my way off the commuter jet and down the jet bridge into the terminal. It appeared that there were only six gates in the whole place, so I easily figured out which direction to take in order to get to baggage claim. The little bar in the center of the terminal was hopping, full of people downing large margaritas. It seemed odd until I remembered it was Cinco de Mayo. I wondered if I could get any decent Mexican food here in Fresno.

After a very short walk, the exit through security loomed ahead. I recognized Edward instantly. He was leaning against a pillar painted like a giant tree slightly apart from the other people waiting for their loved ones. He had a cap pulled down tight over his ears, the brim folded deeply and shading his eyes. His sinful physique was displayed nicely in a white t-shirt and low slung jeans. He was tall and broad, so hard to miss, and I caught several women ogling him as I approached.

We locked eyes, and his mouth curved up into a brilliant smile. He pushed off the pillar and started toward me, but a brave teenaged boy hesitantly approached him before he could get far. I continued to saunter in his direction as I watched in amusement as the boy requested a selfie with him. I reached them as the boy awkwardly raised his arm with his cell phone.

"I'd be happy to take it for you," I offered. The boy smiled gratefully and handed me his phone. I snapped the photo, and he scurried off, probably texting and posting on Instagram at the same time. I dropped my shoulder bag, and Edward engulfed me in a tight hug.

"I missed you," he whispered in my ear and kissed my temple.

"Me, too," I replied fervently as he picked up my bag and hoisted it on his own shoulder. Because I had missed him. So much. Even though I'd taken advantage of his absence to have a girls' night out with Rosalie and Alice. They had formed a tentative friendship, and the dynamic had been greatly enhanced by the presence of Esme Platt. Alice had wondered if I was ready to include Kate in some future outing, but I had informed her that I was not. It would take some time before I was ready for more than an acquaintance with Kate. I was pretty happy about my new little clique and promised myself to keep up with them even though it was tempting to get lost in Edward.

And Esme designed Edward's condo. The incredible coincidence was not lost on me. She knew his mother through her parents, and Elizabeth had given her a lot of free advertising in the early days of her business. She'd called me a few days after the Chronicle blog article.

"I knew something was up with that guy. He was too handsome to be single, and he didn't even give me the time of day when we were alone in his space," she'd said. "Very impressive, Bella Swan. I didn't think you had that hiding up your sleeve. When are we going to finally play tennis?" she'd said during that conversation. I chuckled slightly remembering it. I had not told her about my rift with Carlisle then, but it definitely came up after a few drinks on the girls' night. She was pretty disgusted with him now.

Edward laced the fingers on his free hand through mine, and we drifted through the pillar forest toward baggage claim. The décor confused me until I realized that they were playing up their proximity to Yosemite National Park, and these columns were supposed to be giant Sequoia trees.

"So, how was your trip from Albuquerque? What do you think of Fresno?" I asked him. They had traveled late, and I'd already been in bed. Then, with the time difference, it was too early for us to talk this morning before my flight. He shrugged.

"It was a charter flight, so no waiting. And I kept to myself mostly. The guys seem nice, but I've been focused on my game," he told me. "And in my free time I've been planning what I'm going to do to you once we get back to the hotel," he added huskily. His breath tickled my ear, and I flushed.

Thankfully, we did not encounter any more fans. Edward was recognized fairly regularly in Houston now, and we'd had a few unpleasant run-ins since the blog article, but much less than I had initially expected. The situation had not disrupted a thing for me at work as far as I could tell. It seemed that most people were Houstonians first, like I'd joked in the early days of Edward's rehab, and just wished him well. They didn't care anything about his love life, just his throwing arm. And the retraction that Renata had forced The Chronicle blog to post hadn't hurt either.

We retrieved my bag from the carousel and headed into the smallest airport parking lot I'd ever seen. Edward led me toward a red Camaro. I raised my eyebrows at his rental choice.

"It was this or a Mustang," he shrugged in response. He loaded my things, and we took off. I peered out the window as we drove. The area seemed very industrial and very depressed. I saw several people lingering suspiciously on street corners.

"I hope our hotel is in a nicer part of Fresno," I remarked. Edward shook his head indulgently.

"Bella, I don't think there is a nicer part of Fresno," he chuckled. "It's definitely incentive to play well and get back in the Majors as soon as possible." I watched the scenery with chagrin now. We were driving along beside an aqueduct with decidedly un-blue water.

"But I did find a place with good Mexican food," he announced triumphantly, and I turned back to him with more pep. "It's called Bobby Salazar's, and we can get take-out later. This is California so they put avocado on everything," he promised. I felt better already.

We were staying at the Radisson, which was only a few blocks from Chukchansi Park. I had my own room because family members were not supposed to stay at the same hotel as their ball player in order to prevent distraction. But Edward had flatly refused to allow me, or his parents, to stay anywhere else. Apparently, there was no other hotel deemed acceptable to him. And the big wigs decided not to argue with him.

I saw the stadium as we exited the freeway. It looked modern and nice. Our hotel looked old and outdated. It rose to about ten stories and towered over most of the other downtown buildings. Fresno's skyline boasted only a handful of actual skyscrapers. I was surprised this hotel was considered the nicest place in town. No wonder Edward insisted we stay at the same place.

Edward ushered me impatiently through the check-in process and pounced on me as soon as we were alone in my blandly decorated hotel room, abandoning my suitcase and bag just inside the door. I giggled at his enthusiasm, but the giggles quickly turned to moans as I allowed him to steer me onto the bed.

"I like this dress, Bella," he murmured as he slid the sheath over my head, sending it sailing onto the dresser. In one fell swoop, he had me in nothing but my underwear. "Easy access," I felt his grin against my chest as he traced the edge of my bra cup with his tongue. I kicked off my sandals and ran my fingertips up his belly and chest. I loved the way his muscles hardened and tightened under my touch.

"Why do you think I wore it?" I teased back, easing off his t-shirt. He leaned over me, pushing me back into a reclining position. He snaked a hand behind me to open my bra, while I popped open the button on his jeans. At that point, the anticipation got to be too much, and we quickly stripped each other. I felt the weight of the world lifted off my shoulders as he slid into me with a sexy groan.

"God, you feel good, Bella," he grunted as he established a punishing rhythm. I met each of his thrusts with a tilt of my pelvis, relieved that we wouldn't be taking this round slowly. Soon, we were both shivering with our releases. He rolled to the side, and we took a moment to catch our breaths.

"I think the welcome home sex will be worth the separations when you travel," I remarked breathlessly. Edward responded with searing kiss. He offered me a hand, and we helped each other stand up. We shuffled into the bathroom to get cleaned up.

"I'm going to go to my room and shower," Edward said as I dug through my bag to collect my toiletries. "We don't need to go back to the airport until 8 pm to pick up my parents. They've been in Vegas this weekend, so it's just a short commuter flight." I bit my lip nervously but tried to hide my reaction from him.

"Okay, see you back in a bit," I said airily. "I was already travel-dirty, and you just made me dirtier," I quipped. He leered at me and wiggled his eyebrows in a silly way as he departed.

I still wasn't comfortable around Elizabeth. I'd shared my apprehension with Edward not long after the contract was finalized with Texas Orthopedic Hospital. I wasn't sure she would approve of our rekindled relationship. Edward assured me that she had no objection to things now and was excited to see me again, but I couldn't help feeling very intimidated.

We'd had dinner out at Mark's, the Houston institution, just the four of us, and Elizabeth was perfectly nice. She gushed over my upcoming graduation and new job and included me in the discussion she had with Edward about his rehab. Edward, Sr. was the same laid back, slightly distracted gentleman that I remembered, and he didn't scare me as much.

But, I hadn't spent time alone with the two of them, and I'd be forced to do that tomorrow at the baseball game. I watched my mouth twist into a wry smirk in the mirror as I recalled my own mother's reaction to the news of my relationship.

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Neither my mom nor Phil was one to read a sports blog. And even though, my mom and I were on better terms, lunching together at her club once a month, I did not fill her in on my new love life. My impression of most mother/daughter relationships was that moms tended to badger their single daughters about grandchildren. My mom was different.

Once it was clear that I was going into orthopedics, and there was nothing she or Phil could do about it, she shifted focus. This only occurred when she realized that I was a standout, receiving praise and high marks on Baylor electives but also on away electives. My USMLE scores were in the top 1% of the nation. They relented because the possibility I might make a name for myself in another field presented itself. It was suggested that I change my last name to Dwyer; I purposely ignored that.

My mom was used to grilling me about what I was doing to gain new work accolades, and I don't think she'd ever even asked or cared about potential boyfriends. So, when I had a change in my relationship status, I didn't feel obligated to share it with her. So, it was several days after the retraction of the original blog entry was posted before one of the other CCU nurses mentioned it to her.

I'd met Jeff at a number of Heart Institute events. He was about fifteen years younger than my mom and looked up to her for God knows what reason. Mom was still working full time, determined not to make the same mistake Phil's first wife made when she quit working, leaving him unsupervised in the hospital to get up to whatever he wanted.

Jeff was a former Navy nurse, had combat time in Afghanistan, and loved all types of sports. Ironically, the last cocktail party where we'd chatted, he'd asked if I'd ever met anyone famous in the sports clinic. So, he was thrilled to see Renee's daughter mentioned in the press linked with Houston's newest sports star. He brought it up the next shift they worked together. I'm sure he was thinking that he'd be ingratiating himself to her.

If I know my mother, and I do, she maintained a tight smile, and never let Jeff know she was upset by his questions. But she called me as soon as she finished her shift, which happened to be midnight. I wasn't on call, but I still startled awake and reached for my cell phone without looking at the screen by force of habit. Edward groaned and muttered sleepily next to me. We'd spent one of my on-call nights together, and I'm sure he thought it was my resident calling.

"Hello," I answered with a scratchy voice, stumbling into the bathroom, turning on the light, and closing the door.

"Isabella Marie, I'm seriously annoyed with you right now," my mother's voice woke me right up.

"Mom?" I asked with incredulity. "Is everything all right? Is Phil OK?" She scoffed.

"I'm surprised you'd care, Bella," she said huffily. "I had to hear from Jeff that you're practically engaged to a pro-baseball star. Do you know how embarrassing that was?" I sank onto the closed toilet seat and rested my forehead against the cool tile on the wall.

"Mom, do we have to do this at midnight? I have to be in the OR in the morning," I pleaded. She was exaggerating I knew, but the word "engaged" sent a thrill through me.

"Well, I called you as soon as I was done with work. Is it true? We had lunch last week, and you didn't mention a word. Why are you trying to keep it a secret?" she demanded.

"I'm not, Mom, but it's been a little touchy with the press, and we just got back together only a few weeks ago," I tried to deflect. I was sure Jeff had told her about the blog. How else would he have heard about it?

"Back together?" she asked with interest, and I could have kicked myself for wording it that way. I sighed.

"Yeah, Mom, we dated for a couple of months when I was in med school," I admitted tiredly.

"Is he really Dr. Edward Masen's son?" she asked, and I could hear her starting to get excited. The social climbing instinct was taking over the hurt/outrage instinct.

"Yes, Mom, he is. And we're not engaged. Don't be upset with me, all right?" I requested.

"When are we going to meet him?" she demanded.

"I don't know. He's still on the Disabled List, and he has to warm up in the Minors for a while before he starts back for the Astros. He's pretty busy," I made excuses. I knew I'd have to introduce them eventually, but I wanted to spare Edward as long as I could, at least until he was more confident with his game. He was more than happy to put it off as long as I wanted to do it. Edward was not Renee and Phil's biggest fan, to say the least.

"Well, I'll let you get back to sleep. To think my daughter is engaged to such a famous person," she gushed, and I knew she'd fully switched gears.

"We're not engaged, Mom," I sighed.

"Whatever," she dismissed me. "But this conversation is not over. Let's have lunch on Sunday," she suggested.

"I can't. I'm going to Fresno to watch Edward pitch in the Minors," I told her, pleased to have an excuse to postpone this.

"When you get back," she promised, and I hummed noncommittally. She finally allowed me to hang up. I stood and turned off the bathroom light and crept back into the bedroom. I slid as silently as I could back in bed to keep from disturbing Edward.

"You say the word, and we are engaged," Edward's voice startled me as it rang out through the darkness. I snuggled up to him.

"That was a romantic proposal," I observed, but I knew he could hear the smile in my voice.

"That wasn't a proposal," he told me determinedly. "This conversation will be continued at a future date." He flipped me onto my back and hovered over me, and sleep was forgotten for a while longer.

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Tuesday morning dawned bright and clear in Fresno, California. The sky was a pure cloudless, blue, and there was crispness in the air that was long gone from Houston this time of year. I knew it would warm up considerably by game time, but it would be a dry heat.

I hadn't spent much time with the Masens the previous evening. Edward and I had devoured pretty delicious burritos, if did say so myself, after we finished our showers. Then, we'd enjoyed a Margarita in the bar before going back to the airport. Elizabeth and Edward, Sr. seemed beside themselves with excitement for Edward's debut the next day and included me graciously in their high spirits. We'd all bid each other good night as soon as we reached the hotel and retired to our separate rooms. I hated having Edward so close to me but unable to share my bed or even my room, but he needed to focus.

When I met Elizabeth and Edward, Sr. in the lobby at 10:45, Edward had already been at the ballpark for hours. It was an afternoon game, scheduled to start at 1:05 pm. The Grizzlies would be playing the El Paso Chihuahuas to my great amusement, and Edward would be on that mound for the first pitch. Elizabeth greeted me with a hug and clutched my hand tightly.

"Oh my goodness, Bella, I'm so nervous," she trilled as she pulled me along with her to the front door where a black car waited just outside to drive the three of us the few short blocks to the park.

"Me, too," I admitted. Edward, Sr. just gave me a lazy smile that closely resembled Edward's trademark smirk. Elizabeth didn't let go of her death grip on my hand even after we were settled in the backseat. The driver dropped us off at a VIP entrance off to the side of the main concourse. We flashed our special badges at security and made our way through and boarded an elevator up to the Club Level where a special buffet lunch was laid out for the players' family members.

We were practically attacked when we entered the room, which had a wide window looking out over the field where the team was warming up. All I wanted to do was gaze out and watch the action and search for Edward, but I forced myself to smile and be as friendly as I could to all the wives, parents, and younger siblings of the Grizzlies regular players. They had all kinds of questions about Edward, the Astros, and Major League Baseball in general.

Elizabeth was charming and never seemed annoyed or bothered by the attention. Edward, Sr. on the other hand managed to stay relatively silent without coming off aloof. I was impressed and wondered if he could give me some pointers on how he achieved that.

I was awkward and mumbled like I always did in social situations, but I gave it my all because I didn't want to embarrass Edward. Most of the people drifted away from me after only a few questions anyway, since I really didn't know what it was like to date a Major League baseball player. Yet. I guess I was on my way to learning right now.

Finally, we were able to steal a few minutes to eat some lunch, and then we headed down to the seats. Elizabeth returned to mutilating my hand as we rode back down the elevator and were shown to our seats just two rows back from the dug out. Edward, Sr. drifted behind us, seemingly studying his surroundings and taking everything in. I immediately scanned the field, my eyes sliding past the baseline where the Grizzlies mascot, Parker the Bear, was cavorting with some children who'd been invited specially down to the field.

The players were now finishing up their warms ups and returning one by one to the dug out. I was disappointed that we'd missed that part. I wasn't surprised not to see Edward out there and directed my attention over to the bullpen. It was a little hard to see inside due to the location of our seats, but I caught the top of his head. His auburn hair curled messily around his ears from underneath his cap just like the first time I'd seen him. He turned slightly, and I caught the determined look on his face. He was talking earnestly to someone and gesturing with his throwing hand. He was breathtakingly handsome.

"Bella?" Elizabeth's voice startled me out of my reverie. I jumped a little and turned to where she was seated next to me.

"Yes?" I asked, my eyes still fixed on Edward. I probably sounded a little distracted.

"I just want you to know how glad I am that you and Edward found each other again. It's nice to see him happy again. I'm still not convinced that I did the wrong thing by advising him to stay away from you all those years ago, but I can see that you are perfect for each other. I'm just…I'm just so relieved to have you in the family," she finally finished, stumbling over the end of her words. It wasn't an apology, but I understood what she wanted to say. Who knows how things would have ended up if Edward and I had tried to stay together back then? In response, I took her hand this time and squeezed.

"I'm glad, too, Elizabeth." I was uncomfortable with confrontation and displays of emotion, and I'd had enough of them to last a lifetime these last three months. So, I didn't belabor the point. It was enough to know that she and I would be OK.

And then the announcer called our attention to the field and began introducing the players. I cheered myself hoarse when Edward jogged onto the field and onto the mound wearing a Grizzles' uniform, and the number 47.

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Edward was lauded loudly every time he took the mound. It was so exciting to see him out there and watch the way his face scrunched adorably when he would give a curt nod in reply to the catcher's signals. He wore his cap tightly like he always did, and the way his hair curled around his ears distracted me like it always did. The way his pants clung to his thighs and glutes was also mightily distracting. So much so that, I didn't notice right away that there was something different about this game.

Edward jogged off the mound at the end of the top of the third inning after striking out the side, and I heard Elizabeth draw in a sharp breath. I turned toward her to see her bury her face in her hands. Edward, Sr. was staring into his beer, one of the many he had consumed already. That's a surgeon for you: work hard, play hard. I patted Elizabeth's shoulder with concern, and she jerked her face up to look at me, her hands still laced together in her lap. She said nothing and gave me a long look.

"What?" I asked with confusion. She smirked at me, the last thing I'd expected. I was disturbed at how much the twist of her lips resembled the same expression on Edward's face.

"Have you not been watching the scoring, Bella?" she asked slowly, her words heavy with innuendo. I opened my mouth to ask what she meant and turned toward the scoreboard at the same time. Stats flashed across it as the Chihuahuas took the field for the bottom of the third inning. The truth hit me like a freight train, and I gasped.

"A no-hitter?" I breathed in disbelief. Elizabeth clapped her hand over my mouth to stop any more blasphemous words from exiting. She didn't want me to jinx it, but, so far, Edward had thrown a no-hitter. He'd struck out two in the first inning, and the third batter had popped a fly to deep center field. The second inning had included two batters thrown out at first and another pop fly. No wonder Elizabeth had hidden her face! Now, I had no idea how I'd brave the tension.

Just then, we were interrupted by the roving concessions guy, and Edward, Sr. ordered another beer. I hurriedly added a beer of my own to the order. Elizabeth shrugged and joined in.

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It was the end of the top of the sixth inning, and the rest of the crowd had noticed that Edward was onto something special. The Grizzlies' fans had been on their feet for most of the top of sixth inning. Hand-drawn signs extoling Edward's many virtues had appeared. One featured a large pair of lips adorned in glitter and read, "Marry me, Edward!" I curled my lip at that one; there was only one girl who would get to do that, and I was sure it was the one and only, Bella Swan.

From what I could see, Edward was cool as a cucumber. One draw back of our fantastic seats was that we could not see into the dug out during the bottom half of the innings, being so close above it. So, I could only imagine Edward stewing on the corner of the bench while his teammates batted, his arm wrapped up with his jacket half on despite the daytime heat.

Edward, Sr. was full on drunk now, but an articulate one, so no one around us noticed. Elizabeth had given up throwing him disapproving glances. She was far too wrapped up in what was happening on the field with her son. The crushing handgrip was back, but I was also feeling no pain, having had my share of beer as well. I let out a whoop for every pitch Edward threw. There was no doubt to those around us, which player was ours. I just hoped I looked worthy enough to be his girlfriend. Part of me worried still that I would be assumed as the sister or cousin.

As the top of the seventh inning began, the jumbo-tron flashed various statistics relating to no-hitters. Edward jogged calmly out to the mound, and the sound from the crowd was deafening, my voice not the least among them. Elizabeth had given up cheering; her voice was long gone.

Edward proceeded to strike out the first batter. I winced as Elizabeth squeezed my hand impossibly tighter and fell partially onto my lap. She was tossed back onto Edward, Sr.'s lap when I jumped out of my seat as the second batter was thrown out at first. I glanced over at Edward, Sr. after Edward walked the third batter to see that his eyes were closed. I smiled. The guy could repair grisly burn injuries of the skin, but this situation was beyond him, apparently. A pop fly ended the seventh for Edward.

The crowd was rowdier and louder that I ever though possible when Edward took the mound for the top of the eighth. When he walked the first two batters, Elizabeth stood and moved into the aisle, headed up the deck towards the concourse without a word. Edward, Sr.'s eyes were back open, but they were darting around in every direction but the field. I was frozen in my seat with my elbows on my knees and my hands on my cheeks. Everyone deals with stress in different ways.

Edward looked tired. His poker face was gone, and his mouth twisted into a frown. He waved his left arm back and forth a few times, and I worried that I saw him wincing. Was this effort too many pitches for his recently rehabbed elbow?

Somehow the Grizzlies' struggling fielders managed to turn a double play on the next batter, but the first batter walked was now on third. The Grizzles had only scored a single run, a lone homer way back in the fourth inning, so the score remained 1-0 in favor of the home team. I wanted to lie down across Elizabeth's empty seat, but somehow I remained upright. I watched as Edward jogged slowly back to the dug out until he was out of my sight. I'd never wanted anything more than to go and comfort him in that moment, but I knew I'd need to get a grip if I was going to take on this role long term. That thought gave me a burst of determination.

Elizabeth returned when the next batter popped a fly to right field, stranding the runner on third. She might be utterly nervous, but nothing could keep her from this ninth inning. Even Edward, Sr. seemed alert and focused on what was happening around him for once. We watched with impatience as the Grizzlies managed to strand three runners without scoring in the bottom of the eighth.

I took a deep breath to center myself. This was it. Edward began his typical jog back to the mound for the top of the ninth. Part of me was surprised that the coaching staff had allowed this to precipitate. Edward's arm was very valuable to the entire organization, and he hadn't pitched in months, much less an entire nine innings. I knew he would have been out no matter what was happening in the game, probably by the fifth inning, if it weren't for the no-hitter. Still, it was a minor league game, so I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd pulled him anyway. I wondered how much Edward himself had factored into the decision.

Edward's face was fixed with determination when he turned toward the crowd, his glove and the ball held close to his chest. His eyes were trained on the catcher, ready to end this game. I tried to cheer, but my voice was gone now, too. Elizabeth clapped beside me, but Edward, Sr. was now the one yelling. He might be the quiet, thoughtful one in the couple, but he obviously loved his son just as much as his wife.

Time stretched. It was like watching something in slow motion on television. The muscles Edward's strong arms coiled and then lengthened, releasing the ball toward the catcher. Then, time sped up. The ball thwacked the catcher's glove. Strike One.

I can't say how long that half-inning lasted. It could have been hours. It could have been seconds. But it was really all a blur. And when the umpire called Strike Three on the third batter, it seemed like many things happened all at once. But I was focused on Edward.

His face was stoic and betrayed no emotion. He left the mound immediately, jogging toward the dug out, like he was strolling through the park on any random day. When he was out of my line of sight, I started to notice other things. The crowd went insane, chanting his name. A few people at the outfield fence line tried to jump on the field, and security headed in that direction. Elizabeth fainted, falling heavily onto Edward, Sr., who was luckily in better shape by now, having been cut off since the seventh inning stretch. He patted her face, and I hovered with concern.

But then I felt a prickling on the back of my neck, and I turned back toward the field. Just as I'd expected, Edward was standing on top of the dug out. The crowd had congregated close to the fence and were shouting his name and straining toward him over the barrier. But he was stock still, his eyes searching the crowd. And I smiled when I realized he was looking for me.

I felt no guilt as I left Edward, Sr. to deal with the now partially conscious Elizabeth and jumped the few rows to the barrier. A slightly overweight security guard had reached Edward's position on the roof of the dug out and was trying to convince him to come down between huffs and puffs.

But Edward was ignoring him. And then our eyes met. His face lit up in a brilliant smile, and he pointed at me. The noise of the crowd and those around us disappeared, and we existed in our own bubble. He was dedicating this performance to me. My face split in its own answering grin, and I pointed right back at him. We stood staring at each other only feet apart but not close enough to shout to each other. I wanted to jump that stupid barrier right into his arms, but I knew that would not be a smart move. This moment was all about Edward; I didn't want to cause a scene.

Finally, some of the other players for the team located Edward and joined him at his perch. They didn't spare me a glance but began clapping him on the back and eventually dog piled him. I turned away with a secret smile to locate Elizabeth and Edward, Sr. There would be more celebrating back at the hotel of the private kind, I had no doubt.

Edward's arm and determination had weathered the test. He'd be back in the Majors sooner than expected. I had less than two months until I finished my training and started my dream job. And we could move forward with our life together. As a Texan through and through, I'd never thought I'd find peace in Fresno, California of all places, but stranger things have happened. I couldn't wait for the rest of my life to start.

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Yay, No-hitterward! Epilogue and EPOV to follow before Christmas. Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me and supported me through kind reviews.

So far it seems like most people are interested in an outtake involving Edward's time in Atlanta. Please share your opinion if it differs…