Page 3 of Curveball

After X-rays and more prodding, I waited. A quiet conversation was had between Everett and Dr. Bennett that I tried not to read too much into.

Then the verdict: a fracture. No surgery, thank God, but I’d be in a cast for weeks and out for the season… maybe longer. The kind of longer no one wanted to say out loud.

By the time I got back to my place in Austin, reporters were already camped outside the building, hungry for a quote and a close-up. I slipped in through the service entrance and rode the elevator alone to the penthouse, my head tipped back against the wall.

What a fucking day.

My phone lit up. I hit the ignore button for what felt like the fifteenth time because I didn’t have the energy to be the version of myself that made everyone else feel better.

Four missed calls from Addison. Two from Ava. Three from Weston. And two from my parents.

I shouldn't have been all that surprised, though, considering the game was televised, and the entire country got to see me drop to the ground from the hit.

The original plan had been to drive to Primrose Hill after the game to celebrate my sister Addison’s engagement with the family. That wasn’t happening now. But if I didn’t answer soon, there was a very real chance my entire family would show up at my door.

After the misery of changing clothes one-handed, I sank onto my bed, grabbed my phone, and called my parents first.

My mom picked up on the first ring. “Walker—oh my God. Are you okay? We saw everything. Please tell me you’re okay.”

Guilt washed over me for not answering her calls. “I’m okay, Mom. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. Today’s just been… a lot.”

I reached over to grab the glass of water I’d placed on my nightstand and the bottle of pain meds Dr. Bennett had given me. I popped one of the pills into my mouth and took a swig of water.

"Sweetheart, you don't need to apologize. I'm just happy you called and that you’re okay. So, what did Dr. Bennett say?"

I dragged a hand through my hair, frustration sparking again. "I fractured my elbow, no surgery though. I'm in a cast for four to six weeks. It'll take about three months for it to heal, and then it could take up to a year before I'm back."

"I'm sorry to hear that, son, but glad to hear no surgery," my dad replied, making it clear my mom had put me on speaker.

I exhaled hard, pain medicine bitter on my tongue. “I’m out for the season. We were supposed to go all the way, and now it’s gone… I was planning to retire after this season anyway, maybe I should just—”

“Stop.” My dad didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. “You got injured a few hours ago. You’re not retiring today. Come home. Rest here. Get away from the noise. When it’s time for PT, you can see Dr. Howard.”

My chest tightened, the anxiety I’d been holding back curling through my ribs. My dad always got like this in a crisis—took control, made a plan. And right now, I needed someone else to hold the wheel.

“Okay,” I said, even though my throat felt thick. “I can do that.”

“Good. Call us when you’re on your way,” he said. “And get some sleep.”

My mom jumped back in, softer. “We love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too.”

When I hung up, I stared at my phone until the screen dimmed.

Then I opened the James sibling group chat and started typing.

Me: Sorry it took so long to get back to y'all. Long story short, I fractured my elbow, I'm in a cast, and I'm coming home tomorrow for the foreseeable future…

Addison: Thank God you’re okay! That scared the hell out of us. Happy you’ll be back home. Text me when you get in so I can come by.

Weston: Roger that. Glad you're okay brother. We’ll see you tomorrow.

Ava: We love you, Walk. See you tomorrow!

Me: Love y'all too. And congratulations Adds. Sorry I missed the engagement.

Addison: Don't worry about me, worry about getting better! But if you miss my wedding, you will be dead to me.