Chapter 34 #3
I let out a breathless laugh and looked out the window. The city blurred by, glowing in streaks of streetlight and taillights and the buzz of something we couldn’t quite name yet.
“She’s totally okay. It’s Amanda. Your stubborn as hell sister.”
“Yeah.” I ran a hand over my face, scrubbing it with worry.
Despite how close the two of them were, my sister still hadn’t told us who the father is or told our parents she was having a baby.
Her plan was to tell who needed to know once her and the baby were home safe, because we both knew my parents would be assholes and judgemental about it.
After much convincing, Cassidy told me I had to respect her wishes.
“We’ll be there soon,” Cassidy said, kissing the back of my hand. “My god, you’re going to be an uncle! This is the best night of my life!”
The driver cut through traffic land Cassidy sat up straighter when the hospital came into view, her hand never leaving mine.
The SUV screeched into the hospital. Cassidy was out before it fully stopped.. I tossed the driver a quick thanks and jogged after her, my legs suddenly heavy despite the adrenaline.
We pushed through the sliding glass doors into the bright, overly sanitized lobby of Valley General. The sudden quiet felt disorienting after the stadium and locker room. The air conditioning hit too cold. The floors were too clean. The lighting too white.
Cassidy grabbed my hand and yanked me toward the reception desk. Her eyes were wide and wild, hair falling out of whatever fancy twist she’d worn for the gala.
“We’re here for Amanda O’Brien,” she said, too fast.
The night nurse looked up calmly from her monitor, not at all fazed by our sweaty and beer-smelling clothes. “She’s up on five. Labor and delivery. Room 518. Go ahead and take the elevator on the right.”
Cassidy grabbed my wrist again and we hurried across the lobby toward the elevator. Her hand was clammy in mine. Mine was worse. Inside the elevator, Cassidy leaned back against the wall, clutching her chest. “I can’t tell if I’m about to pass out or cry.”
“Both is an option,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “She’s probably already swearing at a nurse.”
“She’s definitely already swearing at a nurse,” Cassidy said. “God, what if she’s pushing already?”
“She better not be. I’d never hear the end of it if I missed the moment.”
We reached the fifth floor and stepped out into the hallway lined with pastel paintings of cartoon elephants and faded inspirational quotes about new beginnings. It smelled like hand sanitizer and something floral. I hated it and felt comforted by it all at once.
Room 518 was halfway down the hall. The door was cracked. I knocked once and pushed it open gently.
Amanda looked up from the bed, hair a mess, face flushed, IV hooked to her wrist and sweat beading her temple. She looked like hell. And like a warrior.
“There he is,” she rasped, voice dry but full of bite. “Took you long enough.”
“I was winning a baseball game,” I said, stepping in. “You know, clinching a playoff spot.”
“Big woop. I’m giving birth. Feels like I kinda win.”
I ignored the smartass tone, and my throat caught when I really saw her. My sister. Stronger than I’d ever given her credit for. I stepped forward, took her hand, and bent down until our foreheads almost touched.
“You look like a fucking warrior, Amanda.” My voice cracked. “Whatever you need, you tell us. We’re here for you.”
Her eyes watered. She nodded once. “I can start pushing, but I tried holding off until you got here. Word of advice? Stay up near my face. You might be traumatized seeing me push out a kid.”
“Jesus,” I muttered, snorting and cringing at the same time. “Noted.”
She smirked. “You’re welcome.”
Thirty minutes later, my baby niece let out her first scream, and my world cracked open in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
When Amanda told me the middle name was Natalie—after me—I lost it. Fully. Shoulders shaking, face buried in Cassidy’s shoulder while she held me together.
Cassidy kissed the side of my head and whispered, “She’s beautiful. Just like her mama.”
I looked at them—Amanda in the hospital bed, flushed but glowing, cradling a tiny new life. Cassidy standing beside her, holding my hand and holding me together.
And all I could think was thank God I stayed.
I almost missed this. I almost walked away from my team, from this city, from the chance to watch my sister become a mother and hold my niece ten minutes after she was born.
I didn’t know what next season would bring. I didn’t know if I’d still be a starter, or a mentor, or a guy with too many miles left in his arm and not enough years.
But I knew this: I’d made the playoffs with the team that was my home. And now I was watching the woman I loved cradle the newest member of my family.
And I knew what I wanted.
I wanted this life.
I wanted babies with Cassidy—however many she wanted. I wanted to raise them near Amanda. I wanted late-night feedings and tiny gloves and backyard whiffle ball games with cousins. I wanted it all.
This season tested every part of me I thought was unshakable.
But right here?
Right now?
It all felt worth it.