late winner #2
“He was the first person who ever told me I was good enough to play at this level. Before I’d done anything to prove it.
Before I even believed it myself.” A small smile pulls at my mouth, softer now.
“He used to come to every match when he could. Didn’t matter if it was pouring rain or freezing cold, he’d be there shouting like I was already something important. ”
A quiet breath.
“And I used to think that keeping his memory locked away meant I was holding onto him,” I say, shaking my head slightly. “But I’ve realised it’s the opposite. Talking about him, remembering him, letting people know who he was… that’s what keeps him here. That’s what makes him part of all of this.”
My grip loosens a little on the podium.
“He doesn’t stop existing just because he’s not here anymore. He exists in every decision I make on that pitch. In every time I push a little harder than I think I can. In every moment I think about what he’d say if he could see me now.”
I pause, the emotion cresting but not breaking me.
“And honestly,” I add, letting out a short, slightly nervous chuckle, “he would have absolutely voted for Sebastian for this award. No question.”
The room laughs gently, and I smile properly this time, letting it land.
“That was always Henry,” I say, softer again. “Loud, loyal, completely convinced he was right about everything—even when he wasn’t.”
I look down once more, then back up, steadier now.
“I miss him. I always will,” I say, fighting back tears. “But I know that as long as I keep talking about him… he doesn’t really leave. He just stays here with me.”
When I look up, I find her.
She’s still in the crowd, completely still in a way that makes everything in me go quiet. Like the world has narrowed down to just that line of sight between us. I can see it in her face—she knows this isn’t just a speech anymore. This isn’t just awards or football or anything I prepared for.
This is the part where I stop hiding.
My chest rises slowly. I realise I’ve been bracing for this moment without even knowing it—like everything this season has been leading me here, to this exact second of clarity.
I hold her gaze.
And something in me settles.
“But the truth is,” I continue, my voice steady.
“I’ve played the best football of my career this season.
I know that. It’s not bravado or an inflated ego—it’s a fact.
I’ve pushed harder, worked harder, and even believed harder.
” I glance down at the trophy in my hand.
“It’s not just from training or talent. It’s because I’m happy. ”
The room is quiet. This is it. This is the moment. The ball is on my foot.
“And I’m happy,” I continue, “because I fell in love this year.”
Her breath catches. I see it.
“I fell in love with someone who changed everything for me,” I say, voice softening but not wavering.
“Someone who didn’t try to fix me, or make me smaller, or turn me into something I wasn’t.
Someone who supported me when I needed it, challenged me when I deserved it, and called me on my bullshit when I was hiding behind it. ”
My throat tightens, but I don’t stop now.
“I fell in love with someone who didn’t look at me like I was a footballer first, or a captain, or a headline. She looked at me like I was just… me.” My jaw flexes slightly. “And I didn’t realise how much I needed that until I had it.”
Addison’s hand slowly rises to her mouth. Her eyes are bright now, glassy with tears she’s not trying to hide anymore.
“I didn’t know what love was supposed to feel like,” I say, quieter now, almost to myself as much as to everyone else, “until I met her. I thought I did. I thought it was something you had to earn, or manage, or be careful with. But it isn’t.”
I swallow.
“It’s just… her.”
The words land differently even as I say them. Certain.
“I need to say this out loud,” I continue, firmer again, “because for the first time in my life, I’m not afraid of being honest about what I want.”
My eyes lock onto hers completely now. The rest of the room disappears.
“Addison,” I say, and her name feels like it costs everything and nothing all at once. “I love you. I don’t want you to go. But it’s your choice, so whatever you decide, I need you to know that loving you has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
The silence hangs thick before applause breaks out. The lads are cheering and pounding on the table.
“About bloody time!” I hear Luke shout.
My whole damn soul has been laid bare for the room to see. But all I see is her.
She hasn’t moved. She looks stunned, like I pulled her heart from her chest and handed it back to her.
I don’t know what she’s going to do next. I don’t know what she’s feeling.
But I do know this: I gave it everything I had.
The applause is crashing around me, but I don’t even realize I’ve been holding my breath until he steps off the stage and heads toward me.
He cuts through tables, through claps on the back and stunned faces, his eyes never leaving mine. My heart is thudding so loud I swear it drowns out all the noise and commotion in the room.
“Oliver,” I breathe, my voice barely audible.
He smiles, but keeps his voice low, like this conversation is just for me. “I meant every word, Addie. But I don’t want you to feel pressured. I just needed you to know.”
I blink back the sudden sting in my eyes. “So, you want me to stay, huh?”
“I do,” he says, soft but unwavering.
“Good.” I let out a shaky laugh, dragging the moment out as I dare to play with it. “Because I already signed the contract.”
His brow furrows, confusion and disbelief flickering across his face. “But… your landlord said you handed in your notice. She said you were moving out.”
I nod, unable to stop myself from grinning like a fool. “Well, I was hoping to have somewhere else to live next season.”
His eyes flicker, and the smile that breaks across his face feels like sunlight.
“Oh, yeah?” he teases softly, like he’s afraid to believe it too quickly. “Somewhere with better lighting?”
“Somewhere with you,” I say, heart swelling. “Anywhere with you.”
His eyes search mine like he’s double-checking reality, like he needs every inch of my face to confirm this isn’t something he’s imagining. “Why?” he asks quietly.
I smile, and this time it doesn’t feel shaky at all.
“Because I broke my sixth rule,” I say.
His brow furrows slightly. “I don’t… I don’t remember what it was.”
“I never told you,” I say, shaking my head. “Rule number six was to never fall in love.”
His entire face stills.
The noise of the ballroom, the lights, the world—everything falls away until it’s just us standing in the aftermath of something I’ve spent my whole life avoiding.
“I broke my rule,” I continue, quieter now, but clearer than I’ve ever been, “because I’m in love with you, Oliver. Fully. Madly. Completely.”
“Addie,” he whispers, stepping closer as he cups my jaw with both hands. There’s a moment, just a heartbeat, when the world seems to stop.
He kisses me like it’s not an ending or a beginning, but the moment everything finally makes sense—like every look, every almost, every hesitation has been leading here. It’s soft at first, then deeper, like neither of us has any intention of letting go of what we’ve just said out loud.
Because I’m staying.
Because I’m his.
And for the first time in my life, I don’t feel like I’m choosing between fear and love.
I feel like they’ve finally stopped being opposites.