Page 83 of Lucky 22

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. It’s the first time he’sever sounded less than confident. “I just don’t know, Ella Rose.”

I kiss him softly before straightening in my seat. “Let’sget you to the doctor.” The trainers already made arrangements for him to getthe MRI as soon as he got back to St. Louis, and I’m beyond relieved thatthey’re finally doing something that may actually help my husband.

As I pull away from the curb, I glance over and see that hiseyes are closed, his head fully back against the cushion, his baseball hatslightly askew. As much as I want to talk to him, because it’s one of myfavorite things to do, I don’t want to disturb him. He needs the rest.

He’s needed it since the concussion.

Ugh…stop harping on it.

Besides, I already know what happened. Yesterday, theArchers were playing in Chicago, and during a play that had Christian slidinginto home plate, he collided with the catcher. His body bent at an unnaturalangle, and the trainers think he did some damage to his oblique muscles. So,essentially, an entire side of his torso. They pulled him from the game andtaped his whole midsection to stabilize it, but even without knowing about theplay, anyone with eyes can tell he is in pain.

So, I drive in silence. By the time we reach the medicalcomplex, I can tell he’s asleep.

“Christian?” I say softly. “We’re here.” I place my hand onhis thigh and squeeze it gently. Fortunately, he wakes up right away.

“Let’s get this over with.”

I get out and race around the car because now I don’t carewhat anyone sees or thinks. My husband is in pain, and I’m going to help him,even if he doesn’t think he needs it.

But he leans on me and lets me support him. We awkwardlymake our way inside, and they take him back immediately.

Now, all I can do is wait.

Guess who’s back on the injured list and has to staythere for four weeks?

I don’t do a victory dance or say, “I told you so,” but forthe first time in ages, I finally feel like I can breathe.

Christian completely detached his oblique from his ribs. Idon’t know how he could stand the pain from it, but the only way for him toheal is to rest and do absolutely nothing for a month.

And guess what the best way to heal from post-concussionsyndrome is?

Four weeks of doing nothing except resting.

Relief doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel, but I alsohave to cancel my audition in LA. There’s no way I can leave Christian rightnow. Not because I don’t trust him, but because he seriously has to rest, and Idon’t want him to have to do anything for himself. I want to take care of himand make sure he knows that he’s the most important thing in the world to me.

My agent and publicist aren’t happy with me for bailing onthe audition, but they both know Christian and know how traumatic this lastmonth has been.

“So, what does this mean, Ella? Are you taking the entiremonth off?” Tracy asks. “Am I supposed to just hit pause on pitching you untilChristian’s better?”

“I think that’s best,” I tell her. “We live so far away fromour families. There’s no one close by who can stay with him.”

“But he’s not completely helpless. Surely, he’d be okay fora few days. Or you can hire someone to stay with him. Like a home health personor something.”

“That’s not the point.” And yes, I’m a little annoyed atwhat she’s implying. “I’ve been so worried about him. I need to be here withhim for my own peace of mind.”

She sighs. “Why don’t you call me when he goes back toplaying? That way, I’ll know when I can start actively looking for roles foryou again.”

“Thanks, Tracy. I appreciate it.”

“I hope so. That movie role could have been amazing for you.It wasn’t some low-budget indie deal either. It was with a major studio.”

“Then I guess I need to hope they don’t find anyone else forthe part before I can come back and audition.” I say it lightly, but it’s thetruth. Landing a role in a major motion picture is the dream, but it’s not moreimportant than being here for my husband.

Tracy makes a noncommittal sound. “Give Christian my bestand wish him a speedy recovery. Hopefully, we’ll talk soon. Bye.”

I hang up and let out a long breath. A part of me hasserious FOMO about the movie and audition. Could I call one of Christian’ssiblings and ask them to come and stay for a few days so I can go to LA? Sure.But how selfish would that be?

No. My place is here. I’m a good teammate.