The Baseball Player Next Door

Inning 24 ★ Have Your Cake and Eat it Too

"Shit," I told myself. He'd probably be somewhere isolated. I grabbed my first aid kit just in case, but if he was really hurt I didn't know what I could do with it. I went outside and noticed that a breeze had picked up. It was beautiful out there coming out of the cabins and overlooking the lake. And then I saw him sitting on the pier with his head hunched.

Oh, no. I ran to him, or limp-jogged, more like.

"Santi!" I called out, but he didn't react. Maybe he couldn't hear me. As I approached him I saw his shoulders shake almost imperceptibly. I dropped on my knees next to him. "Where are you hurt? I brought the first aid-"

He didn't let me finish. He pulled on my arm and hauled me to him, twisting me so I sat on his lap. He buried his face on the crook of my neck and shoulder and cried.

I froze. My hands looked like claws in mid air. No doubt my face was the copy of a deer caught in the headlights.

After a moment I managed to say, "Santi, I'm okay." That didn't seem to dissipate whatever was messing up his head. He kept crying in that weird, silent way of his. But I felt the tears on my skin. I turned slightly in his arms, so I could wrap mine around him. I stroked his hair softly, just allowing him to get whatever was on his chest off. I ran my fingers through the dark, thick locks. I traced the rim of his ear and caressed his neck. "It's okay, it's all okay."

Santi shook his head slightly. "No, it isn't."

I bit my lower lip. Okay, I couldn't deny that, in general. Everything sucked. But I really was fine, at least. "It was an accident and I'm okay, see?"

I held the side of his face and gently lifted it, so he could see me. The pain in his eyes was so terrible that it couldn't be about what just happened. My stomach bottomed. This went beyond simple remorse.

With as tender a voice as I could manage I asked him, "What's wrong, Santi? Talk to me, please."

He shook his head again in a jerky motion. "Accidents kill people, Pey. What if I had..."

A shiver racked my spine.

Accidents killed people.

But I wasn't Sebastian. And his brother's death had not been his fault, but a drunk driver's who was also dead and would never pay for his sin.

My chin trembled and my hands did, too, as I continued stroking his hair.

"Accidents are not your fault, Santi." I tried to wipe away his tears even as mine started to fall. I tried to keep him in the moment, not allow his mind to wander to that night a year ago. "We're just two intense people and get crashed because we were both giving it our all."

His eyes closed. "I should've held back. I tried to brace myself, but-"

I kissed his forehead and I could tell that it shocked him to the marrow. It made me smile, the little payback. "I'd have killed you if you'd held back. There's nothing more offensive."

Santi dropped his forehead against mine and sighed, his eyelids grew heavy. He didn't speak for a while. "That'd be nothing compared to what it would be... if I'd hurt you really bad. You're right." He paused. "I'm really good at hurting you."

"No. God, no." I winced. "I said that in the moment, I didn't mean it — okay, you've hurt me a lot this week, but not physically-"

"That's the whole thing, though." He grabbed my long braid and brought it between us. He ran his fingers over the tightly coiled hair like a caress. I swore I could feel it. "I don't want to hurt you. Never."

I grabbed his hand and laced my fingers through his. My hand was so much smaller, dotted in freckles and stark against his large, tan hand. His fingers were long and straight. His nails were prettier than mine, damn him. He didn't let go and neither did I.