Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
leo
Applause rang out around the large room as my name was called at the podium.
I was at the Annual NBA Honors, an event that recognized the league’s top performers for the regular season. Tonight, I was being awarded Most Improved Player, a recognition that made every single late night and grueling practice feel worth it.
Smiling at the people around me, I exchanged daps with a few teammates and others nearby before standing and making my way to the stage. Pride swelled in my chest with every step, because I knew I’d earned this.
When I reached the stage, I shook the commissioner’s hand and accepted the award with the other. We turned and posed for the waiting photographers, snapping photos at lightening speed.
The award was heavier than I expected, its sleek design catching the lights from the room.
My name was etched in gold on the black marbled base, and a silver basketball seemed to burst through a clear crystal plane—like breaking through barriers.
It felt like a symbol of the journey I’d taken this season.
The smile on my face only grew as I stared at it for a moment.
When I signed with the Bronx Ballers eight years ago as a rookie, I knew I wanted to be more than just another player on the roster. I wanted to matter to the team. And I’d worked my ass off to make that happen, even through personal losses and challenges I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Placing the trophy on the podium, I turned to face the crowd. The applause slowly quieted, and I leaned toward the mic.
“Thank you,” I began, my voice steady but full of emotion. “I wrote a speech because if you know me, you know I don’t do well with public speaking… unless I’m yelling across the court.”
The room erupted in laughter, and I chuckled along with them, the sound easing some of the tension in my chest.
I wasn’t nervous exactly—I’d spoken in front of crowds plenty of times—but excitement had a way of tangling my words if I wasn’t careful.
The night was perfect. A cool spring evening. The large hall in Manhattan was packed with some of the best in the NBA, all gathered to celebrate the hard work and talent that defined the season.
The Bronx Ballers hadn’t made the playoffs this year, and yeah, that stung. I’d thought this would be our year. But looking back, I knew we’d given it our all. Injuries, bad games, and my own mental struggles after losing Tyrell and Kendra had tested me in ways I wasn’t sure I’d pass.
And yet, I’d shown up.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I said, glancing down at the paper in my hand.
“First and foremost, I’d like to extend my heartfelt thanks to the NBA and the sports journalists for this incredible honor.
Receiving the Most Improved Player Award is a testament not just to my efforts, but to the unwavering support and hard work of my teammates, coaches, and the entire staff of the Bronx Ballers. ”
I glanced up briefly, saluting a few of my teammates in the crowd. My gaze swept the room, searching for familiar faces—and then I saw her.
Ivy.
She was seated at one of the tables in the back, her smile radiant even from across the room.
I froze for a second, my heart stumbling over itself as her presence washed over me.
She was here.
I bit down on my bottom lip, swallowing the unexpected lump in my throat, and forced my eyes back to the paper.
“This season has been a journey of growth, challenges, and relentless pursuit of excellence,” I continued.
“Despite our team not making the playoffs, we’ve all pushed each other to be better every day.
This award, while it might bear my name, really belongs to the entire organization for believing in me, pushing me, and supporting my growth both on and off the court. ”
The applause came again, and I nodded my thanks, feeling a wave of gratitude for the people who had my back this season.
When the room settled, I glanced up again, my eyes drifting back to Ivy’s table as I continued.
“I also want to thank my family and friends for their unconditional love and support,” I said, locking eyes with her this time. “Your faith in me fuels my drive to improve and to represent our values every time I step on the court.”
She smiled softly, and the warmth of that simple gesture filled me with more pride than the award in my hands.
I hadn’t expected anyone to be here for me tonight. It wasn’t the kind of event I usually invited my mom or extended family to. Often Tyrell would be the only person I’d tell about it, and he’d always show up. And Ivy… Ivy never came to ceremonies like this, even when she was invited.
But here she was.
“Lastly,” I said, gripping the trophy and lifting it slightly, “I want to dedicate this award to my late friends, Kendra and Tyrell, whose memories inspire me to make the most of every moment. They taught me that improvement isn’t just about skills on the court but about growing as a person and making a positive impact in the lives of others.
Thank you for this honor, and I promise to continue working hard to live up to it. ”
The room erupted into applause, and I stepped back from the mic, glancing once more at Ivy before leaving the stage.
Applause rang out louder around the room, the sound rising to a standing ovation.
Surrounded by players, coaches, and others in the crowd, I tried to spot Ivy again, craning my neck to see through the gaps of people standing around me.
She was one of the tiniest women I knew, and as the sea of faces moved, she seemed to disappear in the mix.
I hope I can speak with her.
Since I’d moved out of Greene Gardens, things between Ivy and me had smoothed over—at least on the surface.
Communication had been better, particularly when it came to handing off Baby Love.
Whenever I had him for the weekend or after practices during the last stretch of the season, we coordinated easily.
Now, with the season over and playoffs beginning, I was looking forward to more time with the baby.
As soon as I stepped down from the podium, I was met with congratulations and firm pats on the back.
After leaving my award at my table, I wove through the crowd toward the back of the room, scanning for Ivy.
I hadn’t seen her since the week before, when I returned Baby Love to Greene Gardens after he spent his third night with me.
Co-parenting had been manageable this way, but there were nights I missed being able to wake up, wander down the hall, and sit in the rocking chair near his crib, just watching him sleep.
I’d put together a small nursery in my loft, complete with a crib and changing table beside my bed, but it didn’t feel the same.
When I found Ivy, she was mid-conversation with a colleague, a glass of champagne in her hand and a radiant smile on her red painted lips.
She looked effortlessly elegant in an all-black, one-shoulder pantsuit.
The cape-like sleeve added a touch of drama, draping past her thighs and cinching her waist in a way that made me want to stop and stare.
Classy, stylish, and every bit Ivy Pressman.
“Hey,” I said, my voice directed to her hips before I raised my eyes to meet hers.
She turned, a polite smile tugging at her lips as she excused herself from her colleague. He nodded at me and wished me congratulations as he stepped away.
“Hey, you,” Ivy greeted me, using her clutch to lightly tap my arm. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” I grinned. “You almost knocked me off my game up there during my speech.”
“What?” She pressed her hand to her chest, feigning surprise. “How?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
Her smile returned, soft yet bright. “Come on, Leo. I wasn’t going to miss it. It’s not your first award, but this one was earned. A clear testament to how hard you worked this season.” She winked. “Plus, I voted for you. I wanted to see my vote give his speech.”
I chuckled, tossing my head back. “Aight, makes sense.”
“And,” she continued, her expression softening as her eyes clouded slightly, “I just know Tyrell would’ve been here with bells on.”
I nodded, swallowing hard as I sniffed back the sting of emotion creeping into my nose.
Seeing Ivy in the crowd tonight had meant more than just her professional presence.
Things between us hadn’t been the same since…
since the last time we had sex. I hadn’t stopped thinking about her or what had happened between us, but I wasn’t sure if she had.
That uncertainty lingered, making her presence here unexpected and oddly comforting.
“So,” I started, forcing my voice steady, “who’s watching the baby?”
“Tyrell’s mom,” she said with a nod. “She said her hip was feeling much better, so she insisted on driving out to Greene Gardens to spend time with him when I mentioned the awards ceremony. So, she’s there now watching the baby… who we can now call Levi.”
I furrowed my brows, confused. “Levi?”
Ivy drew in a deep breath and placed her hand on her chest. “I found this box that the movers didn’t put in the nursery. It was labeled ‘Baby Stuff’ and somehow ended up in the master bedroom closet. I got bored one night and decided to start sorting through it.”
“Okay...” I encouraged, my interest piqued.
“Kendra kept a journal in that box,” Ivy explained, her voice warm with reminiscence.
“I read a few pages—bawling my eyes out, of course. There was so much she never shared with me…” She shook her head, waving her free hand as if to dismiss the overwhelming emotions.
“Anyway, in that journal, she wrote about the names she and Tyrell had chosen if the baby were a boy or a girl. And if it was a boy, they decided to name him Levi.”
I blinked, my jaw slack as the weight of her words sank in. “That’s… amazing.”