Page 105 of Lucky 22

I find Christian a specialist who can fix the tear inhis back. The doctor also tells us that the injuries Christian sustained in thepast are the reason he keeps getting injured. Essentially, his body neverhealed after he tore his oblique, so his core remained weak. It’s the heart ofan athlete’s body. If your core isn’t stable, everything is out of whack.

I know it’s like that for everyone, but with professionalathletes, it’s crucial.

Several Archers players were injured this season, and theteam did not make the playoffs. A losing season is not how Christian wanted histime in St. Louis to end. His three-year contract is up, and they don’t offerhim a new one.

It happens just as I finish recording season one of TheEcho Wars, so it’s hard to celebrate a career high when my husband’scareer is at stake.

All I can say is that, right now, the wheels are coming off.

I have a pit in my stomach because of baseball, and I can’tbask in the afterglow of finishing my first season as Ashla. So many thingswill start happening now, and I want to be a part of it all. I want to focusfully on every minute of this project being introduced to the public. But howcan I enjoy any of it when Christian’s a free agent again, and I have no ideawhere we’ll have to move to next?

We’re sitting in bed with the TV on, but I can feel thedefeat coming off him in waves. He’s quiet in a way that has weight. My heartaches for him—for the years he’s poured into this and the identity that’s beenwrapped so tightly around the game.

But beneath the sadness, there’s another feeling I don’tquite know what to do with. Relief. Not because I wanted this for him, butbecause his body has been asking for rest for a long time. Maybe now, it willfinally be heard. Maybe now he can heal without rushing, without painpushed aside for the sake of staying in the lineup.

Loving him means balancing both truths at once—grieving theloss of what this moment means to him while quietly hoping it gives him thespace to mend. I snuggle closer, placing a soft kiss on his chest. This is myfavorite part of our day, wrapped around each other, all cozy and relaxed. Softtouches and even softer sighs. But tonight, all of that is laced with sadness,as well.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shrugs. “My agent said he’s already putting feelers out.But let’s face it, who’s going to want a player who can barely play?”

Rock? Meet hard place.

I’m completely torn. Of course, I support Christian and hisdesire to keep playing. But what if no one signs him? As much as it pains me, Iknow that’s the only way to protect his body so it can heal. It will kill himif no one picks him up, but I fear it will literally kill him if they do.

“What about taking a season off?” I suggest and then hold mybreath.

“That’s not how things work,” he says miserably. “If I wereyounger, and it were a manageable injury, maybe. But if word gets out about allthe things that are wrong with me, no one’s going to wait. I’ll be another yearolder and definitely past my prime.”

“Okay, so then maybe…”

“Don’t, Ella Rose. Just…don’t. You don’t understand. I wantto go out on my own terms, and I know I still have more in me. I can do this.”

I’m on the verge of letting him believe that, but I can’t.

“This is a safe space, right?” I ask, and he looks at mecuriously. “I mean…we don’t lie to each other, and we can say what we need toif our hearts are in the right place, right?”

He nods, but I can already tell he’s bracing for whateverI’m going to say. His entire body tenses, and I know I need to tread carefully.

Twisting, I face him, take both of his hands in mine, andkiss them. “I love you so much, Christian Lucas. From the moment we met, I knewyou were my person. You are my best friend, my husband, my greatest love, andmy teammate.”

He smiles at that last one.

“What if this is the universe’s way of telling you it’s timeto step back? Time to retire. Can you live with that?”

Christian is quiet but mimics my earlier move, grabbing myhands and kissing them. “Of course, I can live with that. You are my world,Ella Rose, and I’ll still have you. Baseball is just my job. I don’t know whatthe next step is. I have no idea whether any team will want me. But if onedoes, we will make it work as we have for the last five years. We’ll sit downwith the schedules and…”

“I know,” I whisper. “We’ll make it work.”

Once again…same song, different verse.

But I’m the only one who hears it.

I’m just so worried about him.

We sit in companionable silence, maneuvering until we’reshoulder to shoulder, watching the TV again. I’m not even focused on what’s on.My mind’s still reeling with all the what-ifs. All the ways things can gowrong. What if he gets another concussion? The doctors said that it could havelife-altering effects. So many scenarios race through my mind.

Christian laughs at something happening on the show we’rewatching, and when he turns his head and looks at me, I know he can tell I’mdistracted.