Do Not Fall For The Baseball Captains novel Chapter 41

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Mare Not Victor

Marlowe, Not Victoria

Victoria’s pov

“Lowe…” his voice came through the line, deep, slightly raspy, and immediately sending a strange thrill down my spine.

“It is finally happening!” I squealed into the phone, the words tumbling out of my mouth in a breathless rush, as if I were sharing a juicy secret with my absolute best friend.

There was a sudden, heavy pause on the other end of the line. The silence stretched out over the speaker, before Elijah finally broke it, his tone entirely cautious.

“What exactly do you mean?” he asked quietly.

I took in a deep, excited breath, leaning against the wooden railing of the duck pond as I began eagerly narrating how incredible Caleb had been for the past week.

“Elijah, I honestly can’t believe this is actually happening,” I whispered, my voice dropping into a soft, emotional tone as I looked up at the stars. “I’m just so incredibly happy. And… thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything,” I said sincerely. “For playing along. But now… now you finally have your clear chance with Lexi. She’s completely single. Does this mean our fake agreement is officially over?”

I held my breath, waiting for his response. A tiny, unexpected part of me felt a sudden twinge of reluctance at the thought of ending it.

Despite the arrogance and the constant friction, I had genuinely enjoyed Elijah’s company over the last few weeks. He had a way of seeing right through me that was entirely terrifying but oddly comforting.

“I guess so,” his response came. It was completely bland. Flat. Stripped of any emotion whatsoever.

My brows furrowed in immediate confusion, the bright happiness in my chest dimming slightly at his icy tone.

“Elijah? Aren’t you happy for me? This is exactly what we both wanted from the very beginning… right?”

Another brief, torturous silence settled over the line. I could hear the faint sound of his steady breathing through the speaker, a quiet, rhythmic presence that suddenly felt miles away.

“Is it, Lowe?” he asked softly.

30

Muloare NOT Victoria

Lowe.

had never liked that name. Growing up, I had spent years arguing with my parents for choosing it, throwing tantrums because my sister had been given the beautiful, classic name Emily, while I was stuck with the clunky, old–fashioned Marlowe. I had gone by Victoria the second I entered high school.

But somehow, hearing it drop from Elijah’s lips always changed things. The way his deep voice smoothed over the syllables made me want to completely embrace it.

It made me want to ditch the quiet persona of Victoria and just be Marlowe again–the raw, real version of myself that only he seemed to touch

“What do you mean by that, Elijah?” I asked, my grip tightening on the phone as a cold drop of unease settled in my stomach.

He sighed, a long, heavy breath expanding into the speakers of my phone, sounding exhausted and entirely distant.

“I’m happy for you, Lowe. Truly,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a quiet, hollow tone that made my heart ache. “You got exactly what you set out to get. I’ll see you around campus.”

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