Epilogue
Nik
The house is quiet except for the soft squeaks of the rocker and the little noises our daughter makes against my chest. I never knew a sound so small could anchor me like this. She smells like lavender baby lotion, and even though it’s nearly two in the morning, I wouldn’t trade this for anything.
It’s been a year since I took that hit on the field.
A year since the stadium lights blurred and the roar of the crowd turned into silence as I hit the turf.
I remember the pain, the wrong bend of my knee.
I remember the panic in Coach Gage’s eyes as the medics lifted me onto the golf cart and drove me off the field.
I remember Noelle crying over me as they wheeled me in for emergency surgery.
It’s been a year since I wasn’t sure if I’d ever walk right, let alone play again.
Now, I’m walking—running, even. Rehab is brutal, but I live for it.
My leg still aches when the weather shifts, but the trainers tell me I’m ahead of schedule.
I’m back on the roster and cleared for light drills.
Not game day ready yet, but close. I can feel it.
Football isn’t done with me, and I’m sure as hell not done with it.
Dad moved back home to Philadelphia with Mom during the off-season.
They’ve been in marriage counseling since he returned, learning to live together again after a trauma has been hard.
We only half-grieved because we didn’t know what had happened.
So to have him resurrected, so to speak, has been an adjustment all around.
He spent the last four years in Greece, returning home to what he knew, and where he was comfortable.
He worked hard, saved his money, so now that he’s back in the States, he can completely concentrate on working on our family.
He and Mom call every Sunday. We FaceTime so they can see the baby.
It’s strange, seeing him like this, normal.
But he’s trying. I still keep my guard up, but when he looks at my daughter, when I see the tears he tries to hide, I know he’s fighting for his second chance.
Eva hasn’t exactly pulled a complete one-eighty.
Instead, Dante has her under his thumb, as if he’s her self-appointed parole officer.
In some ways, it’s greatly satisfying to watch him keep her on the straight and narrow, hold her accountable and even make her bend to his ways a bit, but there are times I have to question his motive.
Dante supervised the dismantling of all the LLCs except her sports management one.
He made sure she destroyed the tapes and emails she had from sophomore year.
She and I sat down one night, about six months after my injury, and had it out.
We left everything we did, said, and felt on the table.
I told her I’m giving her one chance and one chance only; otherwise, she’s dead to me, regardless of what Dante has in store for her.
The only thing that gives me hope is seeing her hold my daughter.
Those quiet moments show a different side of Eva.
A side that makes me believe redemption isn’t far off.
She deserved better when we were kids, and though she was adult enough to make her own choices, I’m also adult enough to work on forgiveness.
Two wrongs don’t make a right, and I did a lot of bullshit, too.
Dante? When he’s not running Eva’s life, he’s still running Club Trick like it’s the heartbeat of the city.
The dance club is hotter than ever, now that he’s become a bit more selective on who’s allowed through the door.
I snickered a little too loud when Noelle told me what her sister said to Dante, then I sat back with a raised brow seeing that he actually listened.
And the underground club? Well, it’s become a legit casino.
Small, but it still serves the purpose. Every once in a while, I swing through.
Not for business, that chapter’s closed, but loyalty doesn’t just vanish.
Dante got the title he always wished for: Godfather.
Noelle and I both agreed he’d be the perfect one to carry that title for our daughter.
Dante was there when I had nothing, and I won’t forget it.
Now I show up, shake hands, check in, and then head home before the night gets too long.
That life raised me, but it doesn’t own me.
Soba is settled, ball and chain and everything, and Scottie is pregnant again.
Their wedding was something else, and I loved nothing more than to stand, carefully, beside my best friend and deliver a speech that embarrassed the fuck out of him.
I may have spilled the beans on his camera crew, not entirely, but enough to make him squirm and Scottie to ask some questions.
Take that, fucker.
Loving and Valentina are together, but in true ‘girl power’ fashion, as Noelle says, Valentina is making him work for it.
And I couldn’t think of anyone better for my best friend than her.
She holds his feet to the fire every fucking day.
She’s made him a better man, and I couldn’t be happier for them both.
Sometimes, I can’t believe the way life has changed in just a small amount of time.
And Noelle… she’s my everything. She sits across from me now on the couch, hair messy, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
She smiles at me like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Like she’s been inside my head from the start.
The world deserves to know the real Nik Papas, not the Saint they’ve been sold.
I’ll never forget those words on what should have been one of our first interview sessions.
Looks like she pulled the real one to the forefront after all.
She’s the only one who could have done it.
“You should try to get some sleep,” she whispers.
I shake my head, grinning down at the bundle in my arms. “Can’t. I might miss something.”
She laughs quietly, that soft laugh that still knocks me flat. “She’s not going to roll over or start talking in the next five minutes, Nik.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “I don’t want to blink.”
A year ago, I thought I had lost everything. Tonight, I know better. Football might come back, or maybe it won’t. But I’ve got this—Noelle, our daughter, this family we’re building, and it’s more than I ever thought I deserved.
I press a kiss to the top of my daughter’s head, my voice a low promise meant for both of them.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
THE END