Page 27 of Curveball

“That’s all I’m asking.”

That’s all.Like what he’s asking me to consider is no big deal.

By the time our weekly update session ends—God knows how, with zero actual updates, Ryan managed to make the call last an hour—I’m drained. An exasperated groan leaves me as I throw the ball one last time, too hard this time, my shoulder pinging in protest. Always fucking protesting. Always hurting more than it should—a low bar because it shouldn’t hurt at all. A constant reminder that things aren’t as they should be.

I miss Chicago. I miss my team. I miss my life. As much as I love being around my family all the time, it’s… it’s not right. I don’t quite fit. I’m like a spare part and I don’t fucking like that. It makes me feel like shit and when I feel like shit, I’m an asshole.

More than one person can attest to that.

Sunday can attest to that.

Fuck,Sunday.

I don’t know what to do about her. What Luna said earlier stuck in my head—no bad person can be that adorable. Just like I don’t think adorable suits her, I don’t think she’s a bad person either. I think she’s a person who did a shitty thing. Or IthinkI think she did a shitty thing.

Everything is so muddled in my head lately. Everything is a worst case scenario. Everything feels like it’s out of my control and no matter how hard I try, nothing I do helps me to regain it.

When my phone rings again, I groan, half-expecting to be Ryan with a Devils contract ready to be signed, sealed, and delivered. Relief floods me when, instead, I see my brother-in-law’s name flashing on the screen. When I answer, though, it’s not Nick’s softly accented voice I’m greeted by.

“Will you get Matthias from Luna’s?” Amelia blurts, skipping any pleasantries. “And pick up the girls? We’re running late.”

“You know I will,” I answer carefully, gently, too well-tuned to my sister’s emotions to not know she’s stressed the hell out. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Our appointment is just taking longer than we thought.”

“Your appointment?”

Amelia hesitates. Probably exchanges some kind of look with Nick. Sighs. And then, in one big rushed breath, says “I didn’t wanna tell you yet because you’ve got a lot on your plate and it’s really early and there’s a lot of risk because I’m technically geriatric—make a joke about that and I will kick your ass—but I’m pregnant.”

I pause, letting her ramble sink in. “You know Nick has to actually get the vasectomy for it to work, right? Just scheduling it doesn’t count.”

Amelia groans, voice muffled like she’s covering her face. “Shut up.”

“Do you need the safe sex talk? I can scrounge up a banana.”

“Stop.” She groans again but there’s a laugh behind it. “I know, okay? It was an accident.”

“A good one?”

Her smile is audible, heartwarming as it is… I don’t know. Something else the opposite. “A very good one.”

“And everything’s okay?”

“Looks like it so far.”

“Good.”That’s good, I repeat to the sudden ache in my chest. Everything is good. “Jesus, Tiny,four.”

Four little Silvas running around. Four kids when I don’t even have one. It makes me kinda… not sad, exactly. Left out, maybe. Like I’m behind the eight ball. Me and Kate are the only kidless ones left. Only one of us actually doesn’t want any, and she’s got the loving partner to fill the void. I’ve got a whole load of nothing.

“Does anyone else know?”

“Luna was with me when I found out. I told Mom and I’m pretty sure she told James because he Venmo’d Nick twenty bucks and told him to buy some condoms.” I swallow a laugh; sounds like something our brother would do. “I wanted to tell you before we told anyone else.”

“Fourth is better than last, I guess.” A sorry comparison to the previous pregnancies when I was number one but hey, I’ll accept it. At least I’m before Ben. “Congratulations, Tiny. I’m happy for you.”

I really, really am.

But at the same time, I can’t ignore the strange feeling buzzing itching beneath my skin; something awfully close to loneliness.

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