Page 22 of Curveball

I sighed heavily. "It's nothing, Adds. I'm taking a break. I'm injured for fuck's sake, what do you want from me? I don't need to talk to you guys every single day of my life. I'm doing my PT, spending time with my animals. If I choose to lay low and stay home, I have that right." My voice had an edge to it. My family could be exhausting.

Rolling her eyes, Addison laughed. "Fuck off, Walk. Don't feed me that bullshit. You need a haircut, you could probably use another shower, and your trash can contains three bottles of whiskey and countless beer bottles. You are not okay, and I need you to talk to me." She blew out a shaky breath before she continued. "I'm worried about you, we all are." Her fiery gaze turned soft, pleading. "Please, talk to me."

It was hard to see my sister upset and hurt, especially when I was the cause. I slowly nodded before standing. "I'm sorry, Adds. Let's take the boys out for a trail ride." I hiked my thumb over my shoulder, aimed at my barn.

Addison and I made our way to the clearing, she on Tex and me on Ranger. We let our reins loose to let the boys graze. She turned to me, wasting no time to get this conversation started. "What's going on with you, Walk?"

I stared out over the field, deciding how I wanted to even begin. "I saw Farrah out on a date a week or so ago." Addison's gaze immediately softened.

"I'm sorry, Walk… I—"

I cut her off before she could continue.

"It's not just Farrah. This whole injury, my looming retirement, the media, it's all fucking with my head. I'm in this dark place that I don't know how to get out of. I've been ignoring everyone because I don't want to drag anyone else down with me and burden everyone with my bullshit. I figured I would just hole up at my place, do my PT, and work my way out of it on my own. Once I get back to baseball, I'll be fine." I sighed heavily. "I think seeing Farrah out with another guy was just the final push into my spiral. It made me think that when I do eventually retire, what do I even have? There’s no one at home waiting for me. Baseball is literally my life. I don't know what life looks like for me without it."

Addison stayed quiet for a moment, taking in the words I hadn't said out loud to anyone. "I know the unknown is scary, and for someone who also loves a plan, trust me, I know how you feel. Will retirement be an adjustment when the time comes? Definitely. But Walk, that's why you have us. You have your family and your friends to help you ease through the adjustment. You don't have to have all the answers right now. Just focus on what you can control." She glanced over at me before continuing. "And concerning Farrah. Will you actually tell me what happened all those years ago?"

Addison was right; I needed to be grateful for the supportive friends and family around me. God knew none of those fuckers would ever let me feel alone. I needed to get out of my head and focus on rehabbing my elbow so I could come back stronger, focus on one day at a time, and stop worrying about the future I had no control over, as evidenced by this unplanned injury. It was time to stop being stupid, stop drinking, and get back to work. I glanced over at my sister, "Can I give you the CliffsNotes?"

Addison glared at me. "No. You ghosted me for a week; you owe me this much."

I groaned, running a hand across my jaw. I really needed to shave. "Fine." I spent the next hour telling her everything. I told her about the strain my collegiate baseball career had placed on my relationship with Farrah, about the College World Series, about the girls at the bar after our winning game, and about the gut-wrenching breakup that took place after I was drafted. And because I’d clearly broken open the dam of Farrah secrets, I told Addison why I’d bought this very property we were riding on, what my plans had been, and what had driven me into those reckless playboy days she hated so much.

She listened intently, and I was pretty sure I caught her swiping at a tear or two towards the end of my depressing saga. "Wow. I had no idea, Walk. I'm really sorry you went through all of that alone. I wish you had told one of us so we could have been there for you."

I waved my hand in the air dismissively. "It's all in the past. You all had so much going on at the time yourselves. I survived."

"But still. I wish you had told us," she said quietly, looking down at Tex.

"Hey, it's fine, really Adds. I'm telling you now, and thank you for forcing me out to talk about everything. I needed the kick in the ass. I need to do better. This isn't who I am." I stroked a hand through Ranger’s mane.

"I do love to kick my brothers in the ass when the opportunity presents itself." She chuckled before turning serious again. "But, just a heads up. I asked Farrah to be one of my bridesmaids and for her daughter, Hadley, to be the flower girl. Is that going to be a problem? I didn't realize how deep the hurt ran with y'all. If I had known—"

I cut her off. "It's fine, Adds. I'm an adult, I'll be cordial. Plus, I should do what y'all have been pushing me to do for years… I need to talk to her. I think it’s been long overdue for us to sit down so we can move past whatever this is."

A grin spread across Addison's face; her green eyes flashed with excitement. "Really!? You're going to talk to her?"

"Yes. I'm going to talk to her." I sighed. I was at least going to try; who knew if she would be willing to talk to me?

Addison and I chatted a little while longer before we called it a day and headed back to the barn with the boys. For the first time since my injury, I felt a little lighter and a little hopeful.

Chapter 11

Walker

5 Years Ago

I'd been idling in my truck outside my parents’ house for the last twenty minutes. Trimmed with twinkling Christmas lights, red ribbon, and garland, the stately farmhouse cast a soft, inviting glow against the dark evening sky. It was Christmas Eve, and the usual James-King family holiday dinner party was in full swing. I, on the other hand, was sitting in my truck, trying to come up with an excuse to bail. Farrah and her boyfriend Jake would likely be in attendance, and I had zero desire to make small talk with them. I had run into them a couple of times over the years during combined family functions, and the guy was okay enough, I guessed. I found him a bit boring, slightly condescending, but whatever worked for Farrah. I thought the guy was an accountant. I couldn't be sure; I just knew I struggled to pay attention when he spoke.

All I wanted was to come home, be around my family, and enjoy a quiet Christmas before spring training started up in the new year. Was that too much to ask? Evidently, since I had to spend my Christmas Eve hanging out with my ex-girlfriend and her douchey boyfriend. I closed my eyes while taking a deep, steadying breath, preparing myself for a shit night, when a loud knock on my driver’s side window prompted a rather unmanly yelp to escape my lips. My eyes snapped open, and my hand flew to my chest, trying to steady my racing heart.

"Yo, get the fuck out of your truck," my older brother so eloquently yelled through the closed truck window. My eyes cast down with a sigh as I turned my truck off and swung my door open.

"Was that necessary? You scared the shit out of me," I grumbled at Weston. I quickly shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans, my shoulders shooting up to my ears as the chill from the wintry wind pierced through my bones. Fuck, it’s cold this winter.

"Figured someone had to come and drag you out of your truck. You've been parked in the driveway for a while," Weston said as I followed behind him up the porch steps leading into our parents' house. "Also, thought you should know that Farrah's here, but her boyfriend isn't."

Weston's last statement stopped me outside the front door. I felt the tension ease from my shoulders a bit, and like I could breathe a little easier knowing I didn't have to watch them together all night—watch Jake touch what was once mine. What I couldn't touch anymore. Tonight was already turning out better than I’d expected. I stepped through the front door, my senses instantly overwhelmed with the comforting smells of a James Christmas—all warm gingerbread, Fraser fir, and apples. I followed the loud chatter and soft holiday music into the great room where everyone was gathered. I scanned the room. Everyone was here, lost in their own conversations. My eyes inevitably landed on long blonde waves and green eyes. Farrah sat alone by the large stone fireplace, the fire's glow highlighting what looked like sadness etched across her features. My legs, by their own volition, carried me right to her.