Page 65 of Off the Wall

The ball hangs in the air, a taunting white beacon against blue sky.

I know it’s going to land just shy of the stands. Reachable, but only if I push myself to the brink. So I leap with everything I’ve got, stretching out, flying toward the catch. My glove brushes the ball as my chest slams into the top of the unpadded wall.

And my spine snaps.

Pain explodes throughout my body—sharp and electric—radiating along my back as I fall. The world tilts, a jarring kaleidoscope of white clouds, green grass, and blurry faces. My breath comes in short, panicked gasps, but nothing else moves. Not my arms. Not my legs.

The noise of the crowd is muffled, like I’ve been plunged underwater. The sun keeps blazing, hot against my skin, as I lie there, trapped in the sudden, terrifying silence of my own frozen body.

Four years later, as I steel myself to tell all this to Nori, I find myself fighting the flood of emotions with everything I have.

“I used to play baseball,” I say out loud, my voice weighed down by stones. “Correction. Ialwaysplayed. I’m pretty sure my dad shoved a glove on my hand before I could walk. I was on the roster of the top club teams. Had the best private coaches. My parents even built a batting cage in our backyard. Our family ate, slept, and breathed baseball. I played in college, got drafted to the minors. All my father ever wanted was for me to be a third baseman for the Cambridge Black-Caps.”

“Allhe ever wanted?” Nori’s brow lifts. “That sounds like a pretty tall order.”

“Yeah.” I hitch my shoulders. “He never made it past the minor leagues himself. Neither did my brother. So I was their last hope. I think the best moment of my dad’s life was the day I got called up. And all our blood, sweat, and tears were suddenly worthwhile, you know? That was the dream.Ourdream.”

“So what happened?” Nori asks, her eyes searching my face. They’re so open and vulnerable. She’s showed me hers. I owe her mine.

“I got hurt,” I say. “Bad. Bad enough that the docs weren’t sure they could put me back together again.”

Nori tips her chin. “But they did?”

I press out a small laugh. “They had to bring in all the king’s horses and all the king’s men, but I’m good now. And I ended up selling the stuff that’s in my spine to the kind of doctors who fixed me. So that’s even better.” I take a beat. “My only problem now is I can’t ride a mountain bike. But that ended up working out for you, didn’t it? So.” I cock my head. “Bright side.”

I wait for Nori to smile or blink or something but her eyes stay steady on mine. She’s witnessing more of me than I usually let anyone else see. Like she pointed out.

We’re a whole hand now.

“That must have been really hard,” she says at last.

“It’s still hard.” I shrug. “You don’t lose your entire identity and your fiancée without some fallout.”

“Fiancée?” Nori’s eyes pop wide.

Aww, man.

I got so caught up in the moment, feeling connected to Nori, I forgot she knows almost nothing about the rest of my past. “Yeah, I was engaged for a while,” I say, grimacing. “But the marriage didn’t take. She dropped the ring on my nightstand a few weeks before the wedding and left for greener pastures.” I squint across the couch, a little squeamish. “It was a long time ago.”

And the truth is, it’s partly my fault,I think.

I never stopped to question Daphne’s motives. Never doubted her sincerity when she started pursuing me. She was beautiful and sweet. She said all the right stuff. I wanted to believe I was her hero. Her everything. So yeah, I fell hard and fast. Put a diamond on her finger even faster. I was after the kind of fairytale love story my parents had kept alive for thirty years.

As it turned out, all Daphne cared about was hooking her star to a pro athlete.

Once the doctors told me I’d never play again, my commitment wasn’t enough. She wasn’t just after the money. She wanted something I couldn’t offer her. Fortuneandfame. Her last name on a jersey. A seat among the wives and girlfriends. Millions of followers on her IG account.

Apparently, a medical sales representative for Powell MedTech couldn’t give her that.

“It still bothers you,” Nori says. Her gaze is soft with sympathy.

“A little.” I rub at my chin. “But honestly, I don’t dwell on the losses anymore. As soon as I could walk again, I left all that in the rearview and moved on to where I am now.”

“You built a wall,” she says.

“A big old wall,” I chuckle. “But I don’t talk about it. Ever. So consider this a one-time deal … because you talked first.”

Nori adjusts her position on the couch, nudging her leg farther under her body. “You sound a lot like my brother,” she says. “East is an expert at compartmentalizing and making the best of a horrible situation.”

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