As promised to the children from the Masterson Foundation charity house where Rosette volunteered, the team arrived at the practice field. The children and volunteers could hardly contain their excitement as they stepped onto the wide, green baseball field. The team members greeted them warmly, and the children's faces lit up even more when Nathan handed out baseball uniforms.
"Since we'll be playing, you can't possibly do it without uniforms," Nathan said with a smile.
The gifts didn't stop there—along with the uniforms came shoes, gloves, and baseballs. The charity house director was deeply moved by the generosity, while the children, especially those in wheelchairs, could not hide their smiles. It was their first time visiting a place like this, let alone playing on an actual field.
"This is too much. You really didn't have to—" the director began, his voice full of gratitude.
"Please don't think that way," Nathan replied gently. "We're happy to do this for the kids."
As he spoke, his eyes found Rosette, who was chatting with a boy in a wheelchair, showing him how to use the new baseball mitt. Nathan couldn't help but smile as he watched her — the way her laughter reached her eyes, the warmth in her voice as she spoke to the child.
One of Nathan's teammates approached the director and offered to accompany the children so they could change into their uniforms. The director nodded, and several volunteers followed the children to the locker area. Rosette, however, stayed behind. She had just noticed Dranred — he hadn't been among those who came to welcome them earlier. She caught sight of him passing by as the children left to change.
"Red—" she called out softly.
But Dranred didn't even glance her way. It was as if he hadn't heard her at all—or worse, as if he had deliberately ignored her. Rosette froze, embarrassment washing over her as she realized Nathan had seen everything.
Nathan's lips parted slightly as he watched the exchange. He'd noticed Dranred acting distant these past few days, but he couldn't understand why he would treat Rosette like that. His hand unconsciously curled into a fist.
"I'm sorry about that," Nathan murmured as he approached her, his eyes still following Dranred's retreating figure. Since that morning, Dranred had secluded himself in the bullpen, throwing pitch after pitch in silence.
"Why are you apologizing?" Rosette asked, forcing a small smile at Nathan.
She wouldn't deny it—Dranred's behavior had stung. She wanted to believe he simply hadn't seen her, but the ache in her chest said otherwise. She felt her throat tighten, tears threatening to spill.
"I think he's just in a foul mood," Nathan said gently. "He's been like that since the other day."
"Maybe he really didn't see me," Rosette murmured, half-convincing herself. She turned to Nathan again and smiled faintly, trying to brush it off.
"Maybe," Nathan replied with a playful shrug. "But he'd have to be deaf not to hear you."
He noticed the shadow that crossed her face—the way she fought to keep her composure—and quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, I'm glad you came today."
Rosette let out a soft laugh. "I'm glad too. I wanted to see the kids play rather than just stay in the charity house all day."
"Would you like to throw some pitches again this time?" Nathan asked with a teasing grin.
"I'm not sure about that. I'm terrible at it," she said, laughing lightly.
"You've got me as your catcher," he said proudly, puffing his chest in mock confidence.
Rosette laughed again, her eyes sparkling for the first time that morning.
Across the field, Dranred heard that laughter—and it hit him like a fastball to the chest. His jaw tightened as his fingers curled around the baseball he held. He had seen her, of course. He'd heard her call his name earlier. But the moment her voice reached him, the image of Estelle had flashed through his mind, freezing him in place.
He didn't know how to face Rosette. Should he tell her about Estelle? Would she tell him to go back to her? He thought ignoring Rosette would make things easier—less complicated. But now, watching her laugh with another man, he felt his chest tighten with something dangerously close to jealousy.
He gripped the baseball harder. If it hadn't been a hardball, it might've split under the pressure of his hand. But who was there to blame? He was the one who chose to pretend she didn't exist.
Moments later, the children returned, now dressed in their new uniforms. Excitement filled the air as they gathered on the baseball field. Nathan and his teammates began teaching the basics—how to swing, catch, and throw. The volunteers joined in, guiding and cheering the kids on. The children in wheelchairs were especially spirited, laughing as they tried to swing the bat. Several players gently helped them position their hands and steady their chairs. The entire field buzzed with laughter and encouragement.
"Are you sure this is okay?" Rosette asked as Nathan helped her adjust her catcher's gear. He had insisted she take the catcher's position, saying the children would feel more comfortable throwing the ball if she were the one behind the plate.
"You'll be perfect," Nathan assured her with a grin. "Just stay there and smile—they'll love it."
Rosette laughed, shaking her head. "You're impossible, Nathan."
From the bullpen, Dranred's eyes flicked toward them again. Rosette's laughter echoed faintly in the air, mingling with the children's joy. He exhaled sharply and turned away, winding up another pitch—each throw landing harder than the last.
"Mr. Pitcher!" Nathan called out to Dranred, who was standing on the mound.
Dranred looked up immediately, his jaw tightening when he saw Rosette beside Nathan.
"Throw a few pitches," Nathan said to him before turning to Rosette. "Just hold your mitt steady over the strike zone. He'll go easy on you—you just have to catch it."
"Sounds simple enough," Rosette said with a small laugh, crouching into position.
It was the first time she'd ever caught one of Dranred's pitches. She had no idea what kind of throw he would make—or how fast—but at that moment, all she could think about was how thrilling it felt to be part of something he loved.
Nathan stepped behind her, giving Dranred a signal that they were ready.
Rosette watched Dranred as he wound up, her gaze lingering longer than she meant to. There was focus in his eyes—tension in every movement.
The ball shot out of his hand in an instant.
She didn't even see it until it hit the dirt behind her with a dull thud.
Startled, she looked back at Nathan, who frowned in confusion.
"Hey!" he shouted. "What kind of pitch was that?"
Dranred didn't answer. He simply turned his back and took his position again. Rosette stared at him in disbelief—he was pitching like this on purpose.
The air between them grew heavier. Even the kids nearby fell quiet.
Rosette's heart pounded as another pitch came whizzing past her, close enough to make her flinch. With a gasp, she stumbled backward and fell to the ground, her mitt dropping from her hand.
"Hey, freak! Watch your throw!" Nathan barked, rushing to her side. He crouched beside her and took her hand. "Are you okay?"
Rosette nodded, still shaken. Nathan helped her to her feet, steadying her by the arm.
Dranred saw it—the way Nathan's hand lingered, the concern in his eyes.
His chest tightened with anger and regret. That wasn't how he wanted to treat Rosette, but seeing her with Nathan… he'd lost control.
"I don't think I'm cut out to be a catcher," Rosette said softly.
"You're not," Dranred replied coldly as he walked toward them. "So better stay out of it."
Both Rosette and Nathan turned to him in surprise. Rosette's jaw tightened as she clenched her fists, biting her lip to hold back her words.
"If you don't want me here, you should have said so," Rosette said, her voice trembling despite her attempt to stay composed. "I could've just stayed home instead of being treated like this."
She hadn't meant to say it aloud—it slipped out before she could stop herself. Dranred had never spoken to her this way before. What happened to him? she thought bitterly.
"Rosette, don't say that. We—I want—" Nathan began, but stopped when Dranred suddenly turned toward them.
"If you can sense that much," Dranred said sharply, "then why stay?"
His words burned even as his chest ached. Why am I saying this? he thought. Since when did Estelle have this much power over me?
Please, don't cry, he begged silently as Rosette bit her lip, her eyes glistening.
"I'll go get changed," she said softly, pulling off the catcher's mitt. "As I thought, I'm not fit for this." Before anyone could stop her, she turned and hurried away. Dranred's gaze followed her retreating figure, a heavy ache settling in his chest. The thought that she might truly walk away from him made his heart twist painfully.
Nathan watched her go, then turned to Dranred, his expression hard.
"So this is how you treat someone special to you?" he said. "If you can't treat her right—then I will."
He brushed past Dranred and walked after Rosette.
Dranred stood frozen, the echo of Nathan's words ringing in his head. He remembered what he'd told James not long ago—that he could never stay away from Rosette.
What was I thinking? he thought bitterly. And what the hell have I just done?