Chapter 16
Tessa
No. I’m not ready. I’m never going to be ready for the world to grade us in comment sections. I’m not a star, but I’m back in her life, and I guess this is part of the deal.
So I lie and tell her yes.
Because it turns out there are things worse than not being ready. Like hiding. Like running to Germany the way I did seven years ago. Like being the person who leaves someone stranded because the feeling gets too big.
And because the photo is… good. Really good.
The two of us on the couch, Wesley asleep on my chest. He stayed there after he finally stopped crying, and Zoe pulled out her phone before I could move him.
The lamp light turns everything warm and soft in a way that feels unfair.
My hand on the baby’s back, my other hand curved around his head like I’m built to protect him.
And most of all, the look on my face that I don’t even realize I’m making.
Proof, plain as day, that I love that kid like he’s mine.
The caption is simple. One word: “Family.”
Likes and comments hit right away. A number that feels insane to me. By 12:30 I stop looking.
Zoe watches me from the bathroom, wiping Wesley’s face with a baby wipe while he protests like he’s being assaulted.
“You know your phone doesn’t bite, right?” Zoe calls. “You can open Instagram.”
“I hate social media,” I admit, rolling my eyes and shaking my head.
I force myself to read the first ten comments.
Tina: See you this afternoon at the barbecue. You both look gorgeous.
Jade Herrera: Cute baby. You too, I guess
Jamie: FINALLY. We all knew. Congrats ??
Sara: ??
Iris Vance: Wow, that kid is everything. You two ruin the photo. I want one with me because I’m hotter. Lol
“You feel better now?” Zoe yells from the bathroom as she changes Wes’s diaper.
“Mostly positive. A few…” I stop, breathe through it. “What we expect. You know.”
“Those are unavoidable.” A pause. “Also, the team gets here in less than an hour. We should move.”
The barbecue. The one Hades “organized,” which really means she suggested Zoe host because “the team needs to bond before playoffs and your backyard is big enough.”
Lucía shows up thirty minutes early.
“I’m here to help,” she says fast the second I open the door.
She follows me into the kitchen without another word. She leans against the counter, crosses her arms, and watches me. She doesn’t reach for a bowl. She doesn’t touch the salad. She just studies me with the same look I’ve seen on the field a thousand times when she sizes up an opponent.
“Doc,” she says, brows lifting.
“Lucía.”
Silence. She doesn’t add anything, so I keep slicing tomatoes. The knife thunks the cutting board in a steady rhythm that keeps my brain busy.
“You better take care of Zoe,” she says, eyebrows still up. “The whole team knows where you live and where you work.”
“I’ll put that in my notes,” I say, deadpan, and hand her the charcoal to get the grill going.
After that, the rest of the team comes in waves.
Jamie shows up at 2:15 with only one crutch now. When she sees me, she bumps my fist with a huge grin.
“Hey, doc. Nice rehab, right? I’ll be playing again soon.”
“You did the work. That knee didn’t fix itself,” I remind her.
She shrugs like it’s nothing, but pride flashes in her eyes. She heads straight for the yard, where Zoe and Lucía fight with the grill and a lighter that seems to go on strike.
Hades arrives at 2:30 with her twin daughters, who look like they come under protest until they spot Wesley.
Jade Herrera comes last. Unless you count Iris, of course.
Jade pauses in the doorway, scanning the room like she’s mapping emergency exits. She wears that uncomfortable look of someone who isn’t sure why she’s here.
Zoe steps out of the kitchen and looks surprised.
“Jade. Thanks for coming,” Zoe says, drying her hands on a dish towel.
“Yeah, well.” Jade shrugs, eyes glued somewhere near the floor. “Hades said it was mandatory, so…”
“Still. Thanks,” Zoe insists.
Iris rolls in close to four, when everyone already eats.
She wears sunglasses even though it’s cloudy, and a wrinkled shirt she probably picked up off the floor less than half an hour ago.
“Rough night?” Hades snorts, then clicks her tongue. “I think you only show up late for training. And you’ve got a championship-level hangover.” She takes a beer from Iris’s hand and swaps it for a Powerade.
Pretty soon, Wesley goes arm to arm like he’s the trophy of the season.
Lucía sings him something low in Spanish. A lullaby, I think, though I don’t catch the words. Wesley stares up at her, eyes wide, hypnotized by her voice.
Hades’s twins claim him later, but Iris steals the baby back and says she puts on banana cologne so Wes will like her more.
Diana finds me alone in the kitchen while I grab more drinks. She comes in quiet and leans on the counter, same as Lucía earlier. Apparently this is the official interrogation spot.
“You know why I set this up?” she asks, no warm-up.
“Because the team needs to bond before playoffs?”
“Yes, partly.” Diana’s eyes sharpen. “But mostly they needed to see Zoe as a whole person. Baby. Partner. A house full of people who matter to her. Not just the captain. Not just the legend trying to come back after a lost year because she’s a mom.”
I nod while I keep pulling bottles from the fridge.
“And because you needed to see yourself as part of the group,” she continues.
“You may not step on the field like they do, but you’re a big part of this team.
And you’re Zoe’s partner.” Her mouth tilts like she knows exactly what she’s doing.
“And I see how you look at her and that kid like they’re the most precious thing on earth.
This time, I know you aren’t going anywhere like you did seven years ago. ” She winks.
“This time I stay,” I tell her.
“Good,” she murmurs, and turns on her heel to head back to the yard.
**
By eight, the sun starts to drop and people start leaving.
By ten, the house is completely silent.
Dishes in the dishwasher. Trash bags in the bin. Iris’s rubber ball forgotten under the couch, waiting for Wesley to find it tomorrow.
Wesley fell asleep over an hour ago. Iris put him down while Zoe said goodbye to the rest of the team. Iris sang a mash-up of songs, making up lyrics when she forgot, and somehow it worked.
Zoe drops onto the couch beside me. She smiles and rests her head on my shoulder, wrapping an arm around my waist.
And in these minutes, the world feels perfect.