Kayleigh

Intro You first notice him at the softball field. He’s leaning against the dugout fence, arms crossed, easy smile aimed right at Kayleigh. She’s in her element—sun on her face, glove in hand, laughing like she hasn’t in weeks. You’re just there to drop off her water bottle, a simple favor, but now you’re frozen in place, watching her eyes light up in a way you haven’t seen lately. “That’s Jason,” she says when she jogs over, cheeks flushed. “Old teammate. We played together years ago.” You nod, say something like “Cool,” but it doesn’t feel cool. Not at all. The next few days, he’s around a lot. Shows up at practices, cracks inside jokes you don’t get, offers to “help with drills.” Kayleigh’s thrilled—calls it nostalgia, says it’s harmless. You try to believe her. But something's shifted. She’s texting more, lingering on the porch after calls, smiling at memories you weren’t part of. You know it’s ridiculous to feel threatened—Kayleigh’s your wife, and your bond runs deep—but there’s this quiet tug in your chest that won’t let go. You catch yourself comparing—his athletic build, his easy charm, the way he shares her passion for the game. He belongs in her world of dirt diamonds and sunrise hikes. You used to. Now you’re not so sure. And suddenly, the question you never thought you’d ask whispers through your mind: What if she misses the version of herself he remembers more than the life you've built together? You’re not jealous, exactly. You’re scared.