Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Wild
The knock on my door isn’t soft.
It’s deliberate.
I already know who it is.
I open it.
Kamden stands there, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets, jaw tight, but not angry this time. Just tired.
We stare at each other for a long second.
I step aside without saying a word.
He walks in.
The apartment feels emptier than it ever has. The couch where she used to curl into me. The kitchen island where she’d sit swinging her legs while I cooked. Her laugh used to live in these walls.
Now it’s just quiet.
Kamden closes the door behind him.
“You look like shit,” he says.
I huff out a humorless laugh. “Feel worse.”
He studies me carefully.
“You’ve been out,” he notes, glancing at the empty whiskey glass on the counter.
“Doesn’t help,” I mutter.
Silence stretches between us.
Finally he says, “Coach told me you agreed to step back.”
I nod once.
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“I thought it was what would protect her.”
There’s no sarcasm in his tone.
Just honesty.
I walk to the kitchen and brace my hands on the counter, staring at the granite like it holds answers.
“I saw her face, Kamden,” I say quietly. “At the bar. When she looked at me like I’d just ripped her heart out.”
My voice cracks despite myself.
“She didn’t deserve that.”
“No,” he agrees softly.
I swallow hard.
“I’ve never loved anyone like that,” I admit. “Not even close. And I threw it away in one night because I thought I was doing the right thing.”
I turn to look at him.
“You know what the worst part is?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“She believed in me,” I say. “Even when I don’t believe in myself. She saw me, Wilder, not Wild. Not the pitcher. Not the asshole at the bar. Just me.”
My chest tightens painfully.
“And I let them convince me I was poison to her future.”
Kamden’s expression shifts.
“I thought walking away would protect her career,” I continue. “I thought if I made it ugly enough, she wouldn’t fight me. Wouldn’t hesitate.”
I laugh hollowly. “I didn’t think it would destroy me in the process.”
My hands shake slightly.
“I can’t eat,” I admit. “I can’t sleep. I keep replaying every second of that night. The way her voice cracked when she asked why.”
Kamden exhales slowly.
“You love her,” he says.
It’s not a question.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “I do. More than baseball. More than this team. More than my pride.”
I look at him, desperate.
“I need her back.”
The words feel raw.
“I need her like I need oxygen. And I don’t know how to fix what I did.”
Kamden steps closer.
“I’ve never seen you like this,” he says quietly.
“Because I’ve never felt like this.”
He runs a hand over his face.
“She went to the league,” he says.
My head snaps up. “What?”
“She fought for herself. For her position. She recused herself from your sessions so she could stay.”
My heart stutters.
“She did that?”
“Yeah.”
I close my eyes for a second.
“She doesn’t need protecting,” Kamden says. “Not like that.”
Guilt crashes through me.
“I made the decision for her,” I whisper. “Just like everyone else.”
Kamden studies me for a long moment.
“You hurt her,” he says.
“I know.”
“You hurt me too.”
“I know that too.”
Silence settles again.
Then he sighs.
“I was wrong,” he admits.
I blink. “About what?”
“About you. About the entire situation.”
My chest tightens.
“I thought you were going to treat her like every other girl,” he says. “I thought this was another notch on your bedpost.” He shakes his head slowly. “But that wasn’t the look on your face when you kissed her in the stands.”
He steps closer.
“And it sure as hell isn’t the look on your face right now.”
Emotion builds thick in my throat.
“You love my sister,” he says.
“Yes.”
“Then why the hell are you sitting here?”
I stare at him.
“What?”
“Fuck the consequences,” he says bluntly. “Fuck the league. Fuck the optics.”
He steps right in front of me.
“If you love her, go fight for her.”
My heart pounds.
“You were willing to leave the team for her,” he continues. “You were willing to take my punch. You were willing to be the villain.”
He grips my shoulder.
“So be the damn hero instead.”
I feel something shift inside me.
Resolve.
“You sure?” I ask quietly.
He nods once.
“If you ever hurt her like that again,” he says, eyes hard, “I’ll break your jaw.”
A small, broken smile pulls at my mouth.
“Fair.”
He squeezes my shoulder again.
“She loves you too, you idiot.”
My breath leaves me.
And for the first time in days, I feel hope.
I grab my keys.
“I’m going to her.”
“Good,” Kamden says. “And Wilder?”
I look back.
“Don’t half-ass it.”
I won’t.
Not this time.
The sound of my own heartbeat in my ears is all I hear on my drive to her place.
Every red light feels like punishment. Every second like it’s daring me to turn around.
I don’t.
I park crooked. I don’t fix it.
I jog up the steps to her building and stop in front of her door, chest heaving like I just pitched nine innings.
This is harder.
I knock.
Once.
Twice.
Footsteps on the other side.
The lock turns.
The door opens.
And there she is.
Amelia.
Her hair is pulled back, her face bare, eyes still rimmed faintly red like she hasn’t fully recovered from crying.
When she sees me, her knees almost buckle.
She catches herself on the doorframe.
“Wilder,” she breathes.
The way she says my name nearly wrecks me.
“I need to talk to you,” I say.
She shakes her head slightly. “You already said enough.”
“I said the wrong things.”
Silence stretches between us.
She doesn’t slam the door.
That’s something.
“Please,” I add, my voice breaking on the word.
She steps back slowly.
I walk in.
The apartment smells like her. Clean. Warm. Safe.
And I realize how close I came to losing this forever.
She crosses her arms, putting distance between us.
“You humiliated me,” she says quietly.
I don’t argue.
“I know.”
“You made me feel like I was nothing.”
“I know.”
Her jaw tightens. “Then why did you do it?”
I step closer, but not too close.
“Because I thought I was protecting you.”
She laughs bitterly. “By destroying me?”
“Yes,” I say honestly.
That stops her.
“I sat in a room with your brother, Coach, and Susan,” I continue. “They told me loving you was killing your career. That if I really loved you, I’d walk away.”
Her face shifts.
“They said you’d lose everything first. That the league would tear you apart.”
“So you decided for me?” she demands.
“Yes,” I say, hating myself for it. “And I was wrong.”
Tears well in her eyes.
“You don’t get to choose what’s best for me without me,” she whispers.
“I know,” I repeat.
She shakes her head, pacing now.
“I fought for myself,” she says. “I went to the league. I told them I’d recuse myself from your sessions. I told them I’m capable. I proved it.”
My chest tightens.
“I know,” I say softly. “Kamden told me.”
She stops pacing.
“And you?” she asks. “What did you prove?”
That one hits.
“I proved I’m an idiot,” I say. “I proved I’m scared of losing you. I proved I’d rather you hate me than watch you lose your dream.”
Her breath stutters.
“I don’t need saving, Wilder,” she says.
“I know that now.”
Silence.
Then she looks at me, really looks at me.
“You looked so comfortable with her,” she whispers.
God.
I step forward carefully.
“I felt sick,” I admit. “Every second. I wanted to shove her away and run after you.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because if I hesitated, you would’ve seen through it.”
Tears spill down her cheeks.
“You shattered me.”
My voice cracks.
“I shattered myself too.”
I close the distance now, gently taking her hands even though she doesn’t immediately squeeze back.
“I love you,” I say, the words steady and sure. “Not because you’re convenient. Not because you’re close. Not because you’re easy.”
I swallow.
“I love you because you challenge me. Because you call me Wilder when everyone else calls me Wild. Because you make me better.”
Her shoulders tremble.
“I can’t breathe without you,” I admit. “These last few days felt like I was suffocating.”
She looks at me through tears.
“I don’t want half of you,” she says. “I don’t want you choosing for me. I don’t want to feel like I’m a liability you need to manage.”
“You’re not a liability,” I say fiercely. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
She searches my face.
“Then fight for me,” she whispers.
“I am,” I say immediately. “I’m done running. I’m done making decisions without you. If the league has a problem, we face it. Together. If the team has a problem, we face it. Together.”
I step closer.
“I won’t walk away again.”
Her hands finally grip my shirt.
“Promise?” she whispers.
“On everything.”
She lets out a sob and crashes into me.
I catch her, wrapping my arms around her like I’m afraid she’ll disappear.
We both cry.
Not pretty. Not quiet.
Just raw.
“I hated you,” she admits into my chest.
“I hated myself,” I reply.
She pulls back just enough to look at me.
“You hurt me.”
“I know.”
“And I still love you.”
Relief crashes over me so hard my knees nearly give out.
“I love you,” I say again.
This time when I kiss her, it’s not desperate.
It’s healing.
Slow.
Intentional.
Her fingers thread into my hair. Mine settle at her waist. We don’t rush. We don’t need to.
When we finally rest our foreheads together, breathing steadies between us.
“No more secrets,” she says.
“No more,” I agree.
“No more deciding for me.”
“Never again.”
She nods once.
“We fight together.”
“Together.”
And this time I mean it.