Page 63 of Bad Ball Hitter

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Page 63 of Bad Ball Hitter

I gaze at her, wanting so badly for her words to be true. But they’re not. I knew about the faulty wiring. This was all on me and me alone. “Maybe, but I still feel responsible. If I hadn’t been so fucking selfish, obsessed with baseball and parties…” My voice trails off, choked by the emotions clogging my throat.

She snuggles closer to me, her soft, musky scent wafting around us, a reminder of what we did last night. I had promised myself I wouldn’t fuck her until no one was between us. That promise lasted less than twenty-four hours. There are so many figurative people in this room; it’s suffocating. I should’ve confessed about sleeping with Darci.

Yet another failure on my part.

I’m such an asshole.

I can try to use leaving as an excuse for not fessing up all I want, but deep down, I know that it’s me who wants a little bit more time before everything inevitably falls apart.

I want this—us—untainted for a little longer.

“There’s no way you could’ve known,” she reassures me again, oblivious to the turmoil plaguing me.

“What if Roy was right?”

“Roy is never right.” Her hand comes up to cup my cheek. “Babe, what you’re experiencing sounds like survivors’ guilt. When they diagnosed Darci with cancer, I felt horrible. It’s not the same situation, but I quit college to help care for Jake. I did everything I could to help, yet this guilt ate at me. After she passed, I just … I don’t know, nothing helped. It wasn’t until I talked with a therapist that I felt normal again. She said I had a classic case of survivor’s guilt. We worked on that, and I eventually felt better.”

“You quit school?” I ask. How’d I not know this?

“Yeah,” she nods sadly. “It was hard giving up on my dream. I even resented Darci for a while, which deepened the guilt. I felt like a horrible friend because I didn’t want to be a college dropout and single mom. But what could I do? It wasn’t Jake’s fault. But it was hard.” Her voice cracks. “Those last days, watching her wither away to nothing, knowing there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it … I know it’s not the same as what you’re dealing with, but guilt’s a universal language, isn’t it?”

I nod, barely able to breathe. She’s right about one thing—guilt is a universal language. And right now, I’m fluent in it.

A silence falls between us. It’s not a comfortable one. It’s heavy and cumbersome, filled with things left unsaid. I trace the curve of her shoulder with my fingertips as if this simple touch could somehow convey the depth of my affection for her.

I’m about to speak when she adds, “But Darci was a great friend. I’ll cherish her memories and friendship forever.”

My heart stops beating momentarily. Lila holds her friend in such high regard … how am I going to tell her about Jake? The truth is going to crush her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Lila

“This is the best!” Ice cream drips from Jake’s fingers into the grass. He takes the last bite and runs toward the swing set.

“I think your plan worked,” I say. After Drake’s game, he insisted on taking Jake to the park so we could discuss what happened. Jake was surprisingly okay with it. I shouldn’t have questioned it. He never got along with Miranda. He was more than thrilled to leave the house with all the ridiculous restrictions she had in place.

“That is the coolest kid on the planet. You’ve done a great job with him.” Drake’s tone is almost wistful, but there’s something distant in his stare. Almost a sadness. I can’t quite put my finger on it. I don’t push. He catches a plane in a few hours and will be gone for a week, so I want to spend what little time we have left getting reacquainted.

“Thanks. But I don’t think I’ve done much. Some kids are just born good, ya know?”

He chuckles. “As opposed to being wild?”

My mouth curves to a smirk. “I happen to like my wild child.”

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer to where my back flushes against his chest. Lowering his mouth to my ear, he murmurs, “Do you, now?”

“Mm.”

“Mama Lila, Gun Man, watch!” Jake kicks his feet back and swings higher.

“Be careful,” I yell.

“Should he be swinging that high?” Drake’s entire body stiffens, making me smile.

“Probably not. But these swings aren’t like the ones we used to have. There’s a safety check to keep him from going too high.”

I feel his entire body relax. God, he’s cute. Not only does he care about Jake, but he worries for him, too. It’s a side of Drake I haven’t seen before. A side that reminds me of the days we spent together in high school, of the man he could become.




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