“If you don’t tell him, I will.” AJ had warned before he left home for his next road trip.

With everything that’d happened with Clair, the situation with Kelli had been the furthest thing from AJ’s mind, and he only now remembered because he’d gotten a text from Isaiah about some other random subject. He’d been exiting his plane in Chicago where Clair was still in the hospital. So he took the time now in the backseat of the Town Car driving him to the hospital to call his brother.

“Did you tell him?” he asked as soon as Isaiah answered.

“Not yet.”

“I swear to God, Isaiah, if he brings her around again—”

“He’s not.”

“You don’t know that. Twice already—”

“She cut him off completely, AJ,” Isaiah said with just as much fervor as AJ, “sent him a good-bye text then changed her number, and moved out of her apartment without even telling him. When he went to say good-bye to her at the salon she supposedly owned and ran, they told him she was just an employee there who’d quit and moved out of state. She’s gone, man, and he was pretty broken up about it, let me tell you. He’s not like you, AJ. He holds his shit in real tight, but he got piss drunk right here in our patio and spilled his guts. The guy was hurting. I couldn’t do it.”

“Why the fuck is he so hung up on her?”

Isaiah was quiet for a moment as if maybe he understood why. It only irritated AJ further. AJ didn’t care what Isaiah said. Kelli was a lying sneaky bitch as far as he was concerned. “Alright, don’t tell him if you think it’s only gonna make him feel worse, but you better hope he never brings her around again, because I will tell that conniving little bitch exactly what I think of her.”

Isaiah knew better than to try and defend a girl that had one of AJ’s sibling’s hurting. He hadn’t said much, aside from asking AJ how he was doing, and they were off the phone soon enough. AJ’s heart was once again full of emotion as he reached the hospital. The moment he saw Addison, he knew it. She was out of her mind if she thought anything was going to change between them. The second she was close enough he pulled her into a crushing hug, and she began to cry. “She’s still okay, right?” he asked, fearing the worst.

“Yes, she’s still good.”

He pulled away to look at her. “Then why are you crying, baby?”

She shook her head, glancing down and away from him, but he lifted her chin, forcing her teary eyes to gaze into his. “Hey,” he asked, searching those beautiful eyes. “What’s the matter?”

Her brows pinched as she took a deep breath. “I just miss you so much already, but I can’t—”

“Shh,” he said softly, a mixture of hope and anxiousness washing over him.

All he needed to know was she missed him so much already she was in tears, despite the good news that Clair was doing better. He’d hold on to that, only he didn’t need to hear the additional “buts.” They’d get through this and be together—all three of them—in the end. For now, he’d just have to be patient and not push.

AJ kissed her forehead and hugged her even tighter. “I missed you too. Both of you. She’ll be out of here soon and back where she loves being: watching the team play. You’ll see. Don’t worry or think about anything else.”

For now.

She nodded then took another deep breath before pulling away. “Clair should be up soon. My parents will be here with Snickers soon too. He’s been staying at the doggy day care overnight but then is here all day.”

“Good. I’ve been looking forward to seeing Clair’s sweet eyes again.”

They quietly stepped into her room. To AJ’s relief, she didn’t appear so helpless anymore, and she wasn’t all tubed up anymore either. She slept peacefully but was beginning to stir just as they entered. AJ and Addison walked over and stood on either side of her bed. Without her glasses, she resembled Addison even more.

“Clair Bear,” Addison whispered, “ready to wake up, sleepy head?” Clair’s eyelids fluttered until she opened them slowly and glanced around. “Look who came to see you.”

AJ stared at her, feeling emotional all over again. “Hey, buddy,” he said, trying to hold it together.

Addison grabbed Clair’s glasses off the movable tray next to the bed and put them on her. It was an absolute relief because, before she’d put them on, Clair’s eyes were completely vacant—so not like the full-of-life eyes of the Clair he knew and loved. It’d scared the hell out of him, especially because of the warnings that she might have suffered brain damage. She still wasn’t out of the woods, but with the glasses on, she focused more on AJ; then the weak smile came and her eyes brightened. AJ had to wipe away the damn tear that escaped his eyes but smiled back.

Bending over a bit, he lifted her little hand and kissed it, unwilling to look up at her for a few moments. He didn’t want her to see him like that, but it was impossible to hold it in. He stared at her hand longer than he thought he’d have too, but the damn tears wouldn’t stop.

“I hear . . .” he started to say without looking up but had to stop when his voice betrayed him and gave out. AJ swallowed hard, clearing his throat before going on. “I hear you’re getting better every day.”

Wiping the tears away with his free hand, he finally looked up and met her eyes. Instantly, her brows pinched in an almost angry expression, and she shook her head, squeezing his hand. “There’s no crying in baseball.”

Addison gasped, a laugh bringing her hands to her mouth. AJ didn’t know whether to laugh or cry even more, so he did a weird combo of both. “Clair!” was all he could say.

“Talk to me, baby,” Addison said, lifting her other hand and kissing it too. “How do you feel?

Clair nodded at her mom then glanced back at AJ. “Groggy, otherwise good,” she said softly. “But I don’t like seeing you guys crying.”

Addison wiped her own tears and laughed softly. “We’ve just been so worried.”

“And now we’re so happy,” AJ added, still sniffling but thankfully way more composed.

“I’m calling the doctor,” Addison said, pushing the button on Clair’s bedside. “Don’t talk too much, Clair. As much as hearing you say full sentences is music to my ears, I’m not sure you should be exerting yourself.

Despite Clair nodding in apparent agreement to Addison’s request, she turned to AJ. “The only thing I remember is you carrying me out of the theater. My next memory after that is waking up here.”

AJ clenched his teeth but was glad she didn’t remember the horrific event. For him, it’d be something he’d never forget. “You stopped breathing, and the paramedics had to rush you to the hospital.” He felt his smile go flat as the memory replayed in his head. “They got you breathing, but you fell into a coma for a couple of days.”

“I couldn’t get my voice to work when I first woke up,” she said, touching her neck. “But it was the weirdest thing. I wasn’t worried at all. It’s like I knew just like moving my hands and understanding little by little why I was here—why I was sick—that I’d be able to talk soon too, and then I saw you crying.” Her expression went sullen suddenly. “Mom told me she’s pretty sure it was the ice cream. I hope you’re not blaming yourself, AJ.” Before AJ could respond to that, Clair turned to Addison suddenly. “It wasn’t his fault, Mom. I told him I’d be okay.”

“I know, honey.” Addison smoothed Clair’s hair. “It’s nobody’s fault. We just have to be more careful moving forward. We’re never taking chances like the one you did with the ice cream again.”

A knock sounded on the door; then the nurse entered. She spoke cheerfully to Clair as she took her vitals then assured Addison she didn’t think there was any danger of Clair overexerting herself. “The doctor’s on his way. You can ask him to be sure when he gets here.”

A few minutes later Addison’s parents arrived with Snickers, delighted to hear Clair talking. When they placed Snickers on her bed, he went crazy, whining and yelping at the sound of Clair’s voice as she coddled him affectionately. Once again, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.