THIRTY-SIX
CHASE
The Hay Barn is packed wall-to-wall. Loud voices and country music blasting from the speakers. Stormhawks jerseys are everywhere. Fans and players shoulder-to-shoulder. Flic is behind the bar, somehow keeping up with the orders, even though it looks like she’s alone in the middle of the chaos. The air smells like spilled beer, sweat, and victory. The place feels like the heart of Denver tonight, which is why most of the team are here, ducking out of the official celebration after the speeches.
Coach Allen rented a swanky bar five blocks away. It was a chance for the team, coaching staff, family members, and close friends to toast our victory. A chance to wear suits and let our hair down away from the fans and cameras in a private venue with black leather booths, sleek lighting, and waitstaff in bow ties. The food didn’t stop coming. Neither did the drinks. But it didn’t carry the same energy as this celebration.
No one seems to care that we’re seeded seventh in the playoffs. Bottom of the bracket. The long shot of all long shots. It’s going to take everything and then some to claw our way to the top. Hell, it’s going to take a miracle to survive the first round.
“Thought you’d be on the dance floor by now, Chase,” someone shouts in my ear, disappearing into the crowd before I’ve had a chance to reply, let alone see who it was.
They’re right. Other nights like this, I’m first to suggest shots and games and fun. I used to be the guy who kept things light. Smiles came easily. Laughter wasn’t something I had to search for. But tonight, the questions running through my head don’t let up. I thought I lived for football. I thought it was all I cared about. But as I stand in the corner, watching the party go on around me, football feels like the least important thing in my life right now.
Across the bar, Rob and Jake are dancing on a table in cowboy hats and oversized pink sunglasses. Rob has his tie tied around his forehead like a kid. Harper and Dylan are laughing from the ground. Everyone’s drunk. Loud. Celebrating. And I’m standing here, stone-cold sober, and feeling like I’ve had enough laser focus, enough pretending everything is OK when it’s not. Because Serena’s pregnant with my baby, and she’s alone and scared and I’m not by her side. Jake’s right. None of this means a damn thing without her.
I catch sight of JT weaving his way toward me. Tall, athletic, and every bit the class clown, his lopsided smile used to match mine, back when I remembered how to smile like that.
“This is our year, man,” JT shouts in my ear over the music, beer-slurred and loud. He throws an arm around my shoulders. “We’re gonna show that New York douche who bought our team that we’re too good to split up. I can feel it.”
I’m grateful when JT’s girlfriend drags him off to dance before I have to find a reply. I place down the bottle of beer I haven’t touched and start to make my way to the door. It takes me a while to escape the sea of celebrations and congratulations. Everyone wants to hug and chat and snap a selfie. I smile, pose, do what’s expected. But the entire time, my eyes are fixed on the door and escape.
I pass Flic collecting glasses near the bar and mean to say goodbye, but those aren’t the words that come out.
“Have you seen Serena?” I blurt.
Flic’s stare hardens just a fraction. Just enough to let me know I’m in the shit, even though she still loves me. Fair, I think. Completely fair.
“A few weeks ago,” she says. “We had lunch together just before Christmas.”
“Do you know?” I ask, not wanting to mention the pregnancy if Serena hasn’t told anyone yet.
Flic frowns. “Know what?”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter.”
Flic rolls her eyes, dumps the glasses, and reaches up to pull me into a fierce hug. “Get your head out your ass, Chase,” she says in my ear. “Come find me tomorrow if you want more pep talks. Right now, I’m a staff member down on our busiest night of the year and I’ve got a total stranger stepping in behind my bar wanting to help.”
She looks over to where a guy in chinos is rolling up his shirt sleeves.
“I know,” she says with another eye roll. “He looks like he’s stepped out of a Ralph Lauren catalog, doesn’t he? But I need all the help I can get.”
“You want me to stay?” I offer.
Flic’s reply is fierce. “What I want is for you to go find Serena, which is where I hope you were heading off to.” She moves away, only turning back to me to mouth, “Head out your ass,” again.
And damn it, she’s right. Jake’s right. The fear returns. Not about the baby or the future, but that I’m too late to be part of something I don’t feel ready for but can’t turn my back on. Suddenly, I can’t move fast enough as I step outside into the ice-cold night. Fresh snow is falling lazily to the ground, covering the frozen snowdrifts that line the edges of the sidewalks. The cold air bites, and for the first time in weeks, I feel clear. All I want is to find Serena. To make sure she’s OK. To tell her I love her. Tell her how sorry I am. After that? I don’t know.
I jump in my truck and head across town to Serena’s apartment. The traffic is light this time of night on a Sunday, and I reach her street in no time. There’s a light on in her top floor apartment. I stare at it, heart hammering. She’s there. She’s awake. Before I know it, I’m running. It doesn’t feel like I can go another second without her.
I tap in the code at the front entrance and climb the stairs two at a time. When I reach her apartment, I pause for a moment to catch my breath. Then knock gently.
“Serena,” I say through the door, heart pounding. “It’s Chase. Can we talk?”
There’s a long pause. Long enough to make my stomach turn inside out. Then just when I think she’s going to refuse to let me in—and I wouldn’t blame her—the door opens. But it’s not Serena standing there. It’s Liv. Her dark hair is tucked behind her ears, and I know from the look she gives me that she knows everything.
“I’ve fucked up,” I blurt out.
She doesn’t disagree as she steps aside. “You’d better come in.”
“Thanks,” I reply, stepping into the apartment and closing the door.
Liv turns, grabbing a throw pillow and packing it into a box. “I’m just packing up the last of our things. The lease ends tomorrow.”
I glance around the apartment. It’s empty. Bookshelves with no books. Walls with no pictures. A couch with no throw pillows. It looks bare and cold. I bite back a groan. It looks exactly like my apartment, and my house at the ranch.
“Serena isn’t here, Chase. She left.”
“What do you mean, ‘left’?” My heart hammers against my ribs. “Is she OK? Is the baby OK?”
Liv’s eyes narrow. “You’d know the answer to both of those questions if you’d stuck around yesterday.”
My throat squeezes shut. The weight of how stupid I’ve been feels like it will crush me. And maybe Liv sees it because something in her face softens. “She’s OK, Chase. Everything is normal with the pregnancy.”
Relief floods my body. I didn’t even know how badly I needed to hear that.
“She wasn’t at the game,” I croak out.
Liv shakes her head. “She’s taken some time off. She’s moving back home for a while.”
My ears ring. It’s like the air has been sucked from my lungs. A sick, cold weight anchors itself in my gut. The same questions keep hitting my thoughts like bullets. Am I too late? Have I lost her for good? It’s what I deserve after the way I reacted yesterday, not to mention the last few months. The thought feels like a shoulder to the gut.
“You really did a number on her, Chase. I know you’ve had your own thing going on, but she’s my friend?—”
“She’s my best friend,” I say hoarsely. “She’s… I love her, Liv. Really love her.”
She raises an eyebrow in question. “Then why are you still standing here?”
“Because I’m the world’s biggest idiot.” I turn to leave as the guilt punches me square in the chest. Serena has always been there for me. Always. She’s dropped everything the second I needed her. And I repaid her by pushing her away and ignoring her messages. By walking away when she was scared and alone and needed me to be there for her. The thought cuts deep.
I don’t remember the drive to Oakwood Ranch. One second, I’m talking to Liv. The next, I’m putting my truck into park outside Mama’s house. The porch light is glowing against the dark. The door is unlocked like it always is, even this late.
Every instinct in me says to keep driving. To get on the highway and not stop until I reach Idaho Springs. Fall to my knees at Serena’s door and tell her how sorry I am. But I know it’s not enough this time. Not after everything I’ve put her through. I need more than words. I need to be the man she and our baby deserve.
I find Mama at the kitchen table with a steaming mug of cocoa, her cardigan wrapped tight around her shoulders like she’s been waiting for me.
“Chase.” She smiles. “I thought you’d still be at The Hay Barn.”
I sink into the chair opposite. “Doesn’t feel like a victory, Mama,” I admit. My voice is still shaky. “I want it to. But my head’s not in it.”
Mama stands and pours me a cup of cocoa, placing the mug in front of me and squeezing my shoulder. “I don’t think that’s it,” she says as she takes her seat once more. “Your head is all the way in, baby. But your heart is the thing you’re holding back.”
I stare down at the table. “Fear of commitment. That’s what people keep telling me.”
She reaches across the table, taking my hand like she did the morning she told me Leanna was dead. “I can’t imagine how it must feel to know your biological parents didn’t want you, Chase. And maybe if my Harry—your dad—hadn’t died when he did, you’d have more trust in the world that people don’t leave. But I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. Neither are Jake or Dylan. We’re your family, and we have been since the day you arrived.”
I swallow and it feels like there’s a rock lodged in my throat. “I know. That’s what eats me up. I feel like I have no right to feel angry or upset about my past because I’ve had the best upbringing anyone could’ve asked for. I love you guys so much.”
“We know. But both things can be true, Chase,” Mama says, echoing something I’d started to consider before Leanna died. “You can be upset and still recognize the good in your world.”
We sit in silence for a while, sipping our cocoa. It’s rich and creamy and tastes like the winter nights of my childhood. The only sound is the ticking of the wall clock and the soft hum of the fridge.
“Serena’s pregnant,” I say. The words still feel unfamiliar, still steal my breath with a fear I can’t name. “She told me yesterday, and I freaked out and walked away.”
“Oh, Chase.” Mama squeezes my hand.
“I thought I was only fun uncle material, Mama. I didn’t think I could have a family without repeating the mistakes my parents made.”
A frown deepens the lines on Mama’s brow. She looks sad and like she’d walk through fire to take my pain away from me. I know she would, too. “We get to choose who we are, Chase. And you can be anyone you want to be. For what it’s worth, I think you’ll be an amazing father. The way you light up every room you walk into. You might not see it, Chase, but you light up the world with joy and fun and love.”
“But what if I mess it up?” I whisper.
Mama leans in. “Love isn’t about being perfect. It’s about choosing to stay. Choosing to show up every day and be there for the other person. We don’t give up on what we love. Or who we love.” She lets her words sink in for a moment before she continues. “You think your dad and I were good parents? You think we had a damn clue what we were doing with three growing boys and a ranch that barely turned a profit most years? We didn’t.” She smiles softly. “But we kept showing up for you boys and for each other. That’s all love is. Showing up every day.”
I rub a hand over the ache in my shoulder. “You make it sound easy.”
“Lots about life isn’t easy. But making the decision to be there for someone? That part is.”
I inhale sharply, like the air around me has changed. Like maybe I’m starting to see clearly for the first time in months. Years. Forever?
“I’m scared. I don’t know if I can be a father.”
“All first-time parents feel the same,” she says. “And how do you think Serena’s feeling?”
I picture her face in the parking lot yesterday. That raw, wild fear in her eyes. Then I imagine her sitting alone in the doctor’s waiting room, and I hate myself a little more. “She’s always wanted a family, but it’s part of this big dream she has. Fall in love. Get married. Buy the perfect house. Then start a family. Doing it out of order? She’s probably scared, too.”
Mama rests a hand over mine. “And you love her?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“I don’t mean as a best friend, Chase. I mean real love. The kind of love that makes butterflies dance in your stomach. Love that means you can’t stand not to reach out and touch them anytime they’re near.” There’s a quiver in her voice, and I know she’s thinking of Dad. It’s been over twenty years since the storm and the horse accident that took his life, but I still remember them dancing in the kitchen together anytime a song came on the radio they liked. I remember the love they had for each other.
“Being with her is the only time I feel whole,” I admit. “But that doesn’t take the fear away. I’m scared I’ll walk away when it gets hard, and I’ll ruin Serena’s life and the life of this baby. I’m scared I won’t be good enough.”
Mama squeezes my hand. “All you have to do is show up every day.”
I nod, the weight in my chest finally beginning to shift. Slow at first, like ice cracking after a long freeze. I just have to show up. I let the words sink in until the fear stops feeling like something I should run from, but something to move through.
I’ve been telling myself my whole life I’m not cut out for forever. That I’d only end up walking away like my mom and dad did. But I’m finally starting to get it. I don’t have to repeat their mistakes. I don’t have to run. I can choose. I can choose to stay, to fight, to be the man Serena and this baby deserve. Hell, maybe the man I deserve to be, too. I’ve spent years convincing myself I wasn’t enough for her. But she’s been enough for me since I was nine years old. And I’m done letting fear make my decisions.
Every doubt, every excuse, every wall I built crumbles. Serena’s carrying my child, and she’s carried my heart since we were kids.
I pull out my phone and type fast as a plan starts to form:
CHASE: I need your help. Meet at mine tomorrow at 8am.
JAKE: You know we just won our last game of the season, right? I was planning to be sleeping off the celebration tomorrow morning.
CHASE: It’s important.
DYLAN: What do you need?
CHASE: Bring your tools. And bring Harper, Izzy, and Mad if they’re free.
JAKE: I’m gonna need coffee and muffins.
CHASE: Eggplant and chili flavor OK?
DYLAN: Chase is back!
JAKE: About time! See you tomorrow!
I pocket my phone.
I’m done letting the past hold me back. It may have shaped the man I am, but it doesn’t get to define my future. That’s mine to build—one step, one choice, one promise at a time. And I’m starting now. I’m choosing Serena.
If I’m not too late…