Page 147 of Imperfect Player

We can be perfectly imperfect—together.

Epilogue

Ethan

A year later…

The locker room is abuzz. Champagne is being sprayed around, the guys are hooting and hollering.

Winning the World Series once is a dream come true.

There are no fucking words.

“You coming out with us tonight, man?” Levi Woods, third baseman, asks. It was his homerun in the sixth inning that put us ahead, and my amazing pitching that kept us there.

“Nah, not tonight.”

Tonight I have plans. Big plans.

I exit the locker room and give a handful of interviews before making my escape.

Everly’s waiting just outside the stadium.

Her smile makes today’s win all that much better.

I scoop her up in my arms, hers immediately wrapping around my neck.

“Congratulations, baby,” she says before pressing a kiss to my lips.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You could have, but it wouldn’t have been as much fun.”

She’s right about that. Having her by my side has made everything better. From the recovery to the season to the endorsement with Active All-Stars. Something I still don’t know how in the hell she got me into, but I’m grateful as shit.

I set her down on the ground and look at the people behind her. My dad, and more importantly, Ben.

It’s been a year, but honestly, I still have no use for my parents. Not for my father who keeps trying, or my mother who tries to distance herself.

I’m okay with it. With not having them in my life. Hell, it’s been like that for years. Decades. What I wouldn’t accept was not having Ben in my life.

That’s why I partnered with Be the Match. To help gather donors for Ben and other kids like him. That single endorsement brought in more donors than they ever thought possible. The people banding behind me and Ben were astounding.

But they did, despite the fact that I ended up in a rehab facility. Maybe because of it. I’m not sure.

What mattered most was the fact that we found a donor for Ben. That the donor came through, and Ben is on the road to recovery.

And he’s standing right here.

“That was so cool,” he tells me, before rattling off every single one of his favorite plays at top speed.

He’s right. It is pretty fucking cool.

Even cooler that he and Everly are here with me.

My dad offers me a “great game,” which I happily accept, just like I would from any fan. Even he can’t ruin my mood today.

“Thanks for bringing Ben,” I tell him.

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