The Sweetest Game

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Authors: J. Sterling
asshole to the one person who deserved it the least.
    Cassie.
    Shit.
    My beautiful Kitten. My heart. My soul. The only thing in this world I loved more than baseball. Had I somehow forgotten that? I certainly acted like it. I owed her a million apologies, and a thousand explanations. And I hoped that they would be enough.
    All I’d done since I met this girl was bring her grief. It wasn’t enough to have some good times when you overshadowed them with bad ones. I needed to stop being such a dick and get my head on straight.
    “Remind me to never upset her, okay? I don’t think I could handle a Gran letter like this.” Dean’s eyes were wide as he handed the letter back to me.
    I grabbed it and folded it carefully, then tucked it into my jeans pocket.
    “We have to get out of here. I need to go home.” I rose from the rock and climbed back down it, trying not to fall on my ass and break my other hand.
    I thought Dean might be disappointed, but he sat there looking at me with a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. “Thank God!” he called out toward the sky.
    “Now we’re religious?”
    “If that’s what it takes, then hell yeah, I’m religious.” He hopped down and patted my back. “Let’s get you home to your wife.”
    I hailed a cab the second my foot hit the crowded sidewalk outside the park. We scooted into the backseat and I gave the cabbie our address.
    “So, do you want to talk about it?” Dean looked at me and the sympathy in his eyes made me cringe.
    “I do,” I said with a nod. “But not with you.”
    “Uh, thanks.”
    I laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just need to talk to my wife first.”
    Dean nodded his head in agreement. “Definitely. But then I want to hear about it, okay?”
    “Okay. Thanks for coming out here.” I punched his thigh playfully, wanting him to know that having him here made me happy.
    “I’m your brother. I’d do anything for you,” he said, and I knew he meant it.
    “Same here.” Of course I didn’t need to say it, but I wanted to.
    I’d missed Dean more than I realized. It was easy to forget how much you miss people when you didn’t see them every day. I must be more of the out of sight, out of mind type. Unless we were talking about Kitten; then all bets were off. Because when it came to her, I was more the distance makes the heart grow fonder type. Or you could just call me pussy for short.
     

     
    I burst through our front door with Dean on my heels, praying Cassie would be home. When I found her in the kitchen table with Melissa, her green eyes instantly found mine before they looked away, the pain I’d caused her abundantly clear.
    Fuck .
    She hated me. I’d hate me too. How many times had I said that before?
    Ignoring Melissa, I rushed to Cassie, grabbed her hand in my good one, and pulled her into our bedroom, slamming the door behind us. Without a word, I pulled her over to the bed and sat down, pulling her to a seat on the mattress next to me.
    “Jack, what are you—”
    “Shhh. Please. Just wait here for a minute,” I begged. Leaning over and placing my head against my cast, I closed my eyes and silently berated myself. Cassie didn’t move and I didn’t either, afraid that if I disturbed the emotional dust settling around us, I’d mess it all up again.
    I sat there a good ten minutes without moving a muscle. When I finally sat up and opened my eyes, tears began to spill down my cheeks.
    “Oh God, Kitten. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please, please don’t leave me.”
    “Leave you?” Her eyebrows flew up and her eyes grew wide, as if she had no idea what I was talking about.
    “I fucked up. I’m just so scared for what all this means, you know?” I held my cast-covered arm in the air and she nodded. “I’m not ready to lose baseball. I’m not ready for my career to be over. And I’ve taken it all out on you.”
    She started to cry. No words came, just tears, so I went on. “I know you probably hate me. Or

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