Chapter 32
“Come on, Zach,” his dad whispers at my side, and I’m right there with him.
We’re all so close to the glass that our noses are practically against it. I hold my breath, swallowing down the nervousness clutching at my throat.
“Go Uncle Zach!” Ella screams while waving a foam finger almost bigger than she is.
I smile as I watch her, surprised at how calm I feel in a stadium setting like this.
The last time I was at one of Zach’s games, it turned into my worst nightmare.
Everything was falling apart around me. I was already in a fragile state after hearing my father say shitty things about me, and finding out the only friend in college had betrayed me.
It was only made worse when the crowd booed me for just being there.
In hindsight, I shouldn’t have gone. I should’ve explained to Zach how I was feeling and why I couldn’t support him the way I wanted to. Instead, I ran away from all my problems, thinking they would go away.
I’m different now.
I haven’t cared what people think about me in a long time. I stay off the internet, and I surround myself with people who actually see me for who I am. Not because I need their validation anymore. I don’t. These days, the only person who decides my worth is me.
Jamie hands me a bottle of water before lifting Ella onto his lap. I mutter a quiet thanks without taking my eyes off the field. Ella is busy talking to Tiff when Jamie leans closer.
“Does he really have no idea that you’re here?” he asks under his breath.
I shake my head. “Nope. I didn’t want to distract him from such a big game. I’ll surprise him at the end.”
“He’s going to lose his mind,” he says, taking a sip of his own drink.
“I hope so,” I murmur, watching the Raptors defense hold off another run. The ball’s back in Zach’s possession now. “He’s had a rough season.”
And I probably haven’t made it easier.
“You deserve this, you know. You both do.”
That makes me turn and look at him. “Deserve what?”
“To be together. You’ve both been through so much, and Honey... I know it’s not really my place to say this, but I’m so proud of the person you’ve become. Even if your parents can’t see it.”
I smile. “Thanks, Nicks. You haven’t done too badly yourself.”
“Oh, no!” Zach’s mom yells, forcing my attention back to the field.
“What happened?” I ask as I take in the scene below us. Zach is on the ground, but he pushes himself back up almost immediately, waving the trainer away before they can even reach him. He rolls his shoulders like he’s trying to shake it off, but I’m not looking at his face.
I’m watching his right hand.
He’s still shaking it, something he’s been doing for the entirety of the game. Every dead ball, every gap between plays. I’ve been counting.
Then, almost just as quickly, his hand goes flat against his thigh.
“Idiot,” I say very quietly, immediately regretting it since his family is right next to me.
I wince as I feel his mother’s gaze turn to me.
Clearing my throat, I say, “The guy that hit him is an idiot.”
It’s a terrible cover considering the timing of it all, but if his mom is annoyed, she doesn’t show it.
She never has, and I still don’t get why she’s so accepting of me after all this time.
I’m the girl who walks in and out of her son's life constantly. I said no to his proposal—more than once. He missed important meetings at the start of his career just to chase me, and even though he’s been going through the worst season of his life, I haven’t been there for him.
Not in any tangible way, at least. Sure, I’ve been calling and texting him, but I know waiting for me can’t have helped his performance.
She should hate me.
“He is an idiot,” his mom says. “Too pigheaded to know when to not play through an injury.”
Her comment makes me laugh.
“He got it from his father.”
“Ah,” I say knowingly. “So, self-preservation was never genetically possible for him.”
“No, that boy has never known how to let go of something once his heart’s set on it. Pretty much how he ended up in the NFL.”
I nod. Zach has always worked his ass off for everything he has in life, and it’s one of the things I love most about him.
“That’s why he’s not going to give up on you,” she says, looking down at my clasped hands with a smile.
I drop my gaze, unable to look her in the eyes as she reaches over and takes my hand.
“You know what I see when I look at him lately?” she asks softly. “Hope.”
I glance up at her finally.
“I know you think you’ve been making his life harder, but from where I’m standing you’re the thing that’s kept him going through most of it.”
My chest aches painfully at the softness in her voice.
I stare down at our joined hands, blinking hard once before I embarrass myself in front of an entire luxury box.
“I’ve made things really hard for him,” I whisper.
“No,” she says gently. “Life and circumstance did that. You just needed time.”
I look down at our joined hands and let out a small, emotional laugh.
“He deserves someone who stops running every time things get hard,” I whisper.
His mom squeezes my hand gently. “Then it’s a good thing you came back.”
Something tucks itself against my side. Ella’s got both her arms wrapped around my waist with her foam finger pointing at the floor.
“I missed you,” she says into my sleeve, breaking the tension.
Zach’s mom loosens her hold on me so I can put my arm around Ella.
“I missed you too, Ellie-Bear.”
“Promise me you won’t go away again?” she asks.
I can feel Jamie’s eyes on me, and Zach’s mom’s, for that matter.
“I promise I won’t go away ever again.”
“Okay,” Ella says happily before lowering her voice like she’s sharing a secret. “Uncle Zach told me he sleeps better when you answer his phone calls.”
Jamie immediately coughs into his drink to hide a laugh.
Then, without warning, she’s back at the glass, pressing the foam finger to it, completely unfazed by it all.
By the time I’ve drawn my attention back to the game, the Night Owls have scored a touchdown, making it 17-21.
There are three minutes left in the game, so there’s plenty of time to win this; it’s just whether Zach can.
He stalks onto the field, and I watch him closely. There it is. He’s shaking out his hand again.
My fingers tighten around the water bottle, my stomach fluttering with anxiety.
Come on, Zach. You can do this.
Zach calls the snap, and the second the ball is in his hands, he throws it to Reese immediately.
Reese catches it and steps out of bounds to stop the clock.
Everyone in the box with me is silent. No one moves. We’re all too focused on him.
They make their way down the field one drive at a time, trying to keep the pace up.
On the next drive, Zach can’t find anyone open, so he runs the ball himself, slipping past one defender and driving forward just enough to get them to the ten-yard line.
So close.
They are so close to scoring that I feel like I’m going to be physically sick.
I lean a little more forward as Zach sets up for the next play. When he’s got the ball, he takes a step back and scans the field. The defenders are right there, so he throws the ball just as he gets sacked.
The box draws a breath, following the ball as it spirals into the air, past the defense and straight into Reese’s hands.
Touchdown!
Touchdown? Did he—did Zach just win this?
Zach’s mom yells, pulling his dad into a hug.
Tiff’s crying, Ella’s singing, and Jamie is hugging them both.
They won.
They really won.
All because of him. He fucking did it.
Tears well in my eyes as I watch the team celebrate below by piling on top of Reese. The stadium is erupting in cheers, and the box is so loud that you’d think we’d just secured a place in the playoffs.
I don’t join in because I’m too focused on the field in front of me, trying to find his number in the mix of all the players.
“He did it, Honey!” Tiff’s voice and her grabbing my shoulders to face her is the only thing that draws me out of my trance. “He did it.”
A shaky laugh breaks out of me as I nod quickly, wiping under my eyes before the tears can actually fall.
“I know,” I whisper, looking back toward the field immediately. “I know.”
My eyes stay locked on the field, searching for him through the chaos of celebrating players.
God, I want to hug him so badly it physically hurts.
That’s when I see it.
3.
“Wait,” I say, stepping closer to the glass to get a better view.
While the rest of his team are doing some funky coordinated dance with the other team members, number 3 is sitting on the turf at the five-yard line with his helmet still on and his hand in his lap.
Zach.
A team doctor jogs onto the field and crouches next to him.
Shit.
“I need to go down there,” I say instinctively.
The words leave my mouth before my brain catches up enough to remind me that this is an NFL stadium, not a high school football game where I can just hop a fence and run to him.
“You can use my field pass,” Zach’s mom says, holding the lanyard out toward me.
I stare down at it for a second before looking back at her with hesitation.
“The fastest way down there now is through the stands,” his dad adds.
Tiff and Jamie are both looking at me encouragingly.
“T-the stands?” I say as they all wait for me to take the lanyard.
I could handle getting into the box. Nobody noticed me here, but the stands? That’s where people booed me, and laughed every time I dared to show up at one of Zach’s games.
For a second, I swear I can still hear it. The shouting. The mockery. The feeling of shrinking smaller and smaller with every step I took.
Old instincts claw their way up immediately.
Run. Hide. Avoid it.
Then I think about Zach standing down on that field playing through pain with seventy thousand people screaming around him.
And suddenly walking through a crowd doesn’t seem quite so impossible.
This isn’t St. Michael’s, Honey.
“Yes. Go to the stairs at the end of the box and head down to the ground level. Security at the base will get you through,” Tiff says as if I’m going to remember that.
Adrenaline starts to course through my veins as Zach’s mom places the pass in my hand.
I curl my fingers around it.
“Thank you,” I say.
She glances down at my hand wrapped in hers and smiles softly. When she looks back up, her eyes are glassy with emotion. “Good luck, Honey. You both deserve this.”
A shaky breath leaves me, and all I can manage is a small nod.
Beneath the words, I feel like she’s quietly placing her son’s heart back into my hands and believing that I won’t run this time.
As soon as I turn toward the door, a chorus of good luck follows behind me. Not just from Zach’s family, but from half the luxury box at this point.
None of them know exactly what I’m about to do, but somehow they’re rooting for me anyway.
I weave through the crowd toward the stairwell, the roar of the stadium growing louder with every step downward. Fifty thousand people still riding the high of the win.
Four years.
We’ve been building toward this moment since we were eighteen years old.
And now that it’s finally here, all I know is that I don’t want to waste another second being afraid of it.
I’m ready to choose Zach the same way he’s always chosen me.
By the time I finally reach the security gates, fans are already crowding the barricades, shouting players’ names and holding things out to be signed.
I squeeze my way toward the front, apologizing under my breath as I try to catch the attention of one of the guards, but it’s useless.
The crowd is too loud. They can’t hear me, and my frantic attempts at waving probably just make me look like every other overly excited fan pressed against the barricade.
A sudden wave of cheering erupts nearby as a few players start making their way over after the win.
I don’t recognize any of them.
“Honey?”
I turn when I hear my name, smiling widely when I see him.
“Reese!”
His brows are furrowed, and he looks back onto the field before jumping up onto the concrete lip of the barrier to close the gap between us.
Fans try to thrust me to the side as they push merchandise in Reese’s face. He ignores them, his focus solely on me.
“Honey? Fuck. I thought you were meeting us after?”
“I was supposed to, but I couldn’t wait. I need to see him.”
He nods frantically. “Yes, you fucking do.”
He shakes his head before jumping off the barrier and finding the nearest guard. They come over, and before I know it, the guard is there, holding his arms out for me.
I jump over the barricade, and the second my feet touch the ground, I feel relieved.
I’m so close to seeing him.
“Good luck, Honey,” Reese says. “He’s going to freak the hell out when he sees you.”
“I think I might freak out first,” I confess with a shaky laugh.
Reese grins. “Nah. That’s definitely gonna be him.”
He points to the field before he jumps back up to the barrier and starts signing things for the fans.
After checking my pass, the guard escorts me to the field.
Before I know it, I can feel the springy grass under my feet.
The noise is a completely different thing from down here, surrounding and enormous.
This is his world, properly, the one I've been watching through glass and television screens for years while he's been in the middle of it.
“Honey!”
I turn at the sound of my name just in time to see Dax nearly trip over himself doing a double take.
“You’re here?” he says, staring at me like I’ve materialized out of thin air.
“Yeah,” I breathe out, still scanning the field for Zach.
“Surprise?” I offer weakly.
For one suspended second, he just stares. Then his entire expression changes. His eyes widen, his mouth falling open as the realization fully lands.
“Oh, Zach is going to lose his damn mind.”
A nervous laugh escapes me as I glance back toward the field.
Dax immediately points toward the players celebrating near the end zone. “Go get your man, Honey!” he shouts, jogging beside me for a few steps.
“I’m trying!”
I don't stop.
I go.