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I’m confident down to my bones, this is one promise I can deliver.
Grace
6 months later
Confetti falls in the air as the field is swarmed with people. Shaw holds on to both my and Bizzy’s arms protectively as he maneuvers us through the crowd. Mathis and Claire follow closely, cheering loudly.
When we finally reach the stairs to the stage, my eyes find Nick instantly. He’s surrounded by players, all of them screaming and a few crying openly.
“Go to him,” Shaw tells me, urging me forward.
“Aren’t you coming?” I glimpse at them over my shoulder.
“Not this time. This is for you. We’ll be right here.”
I open my mouth to argue, but Claire and Bizzy both push me away, waving me to go.
I climb the steps, my stomach in knots of excitement. Nick spots me and leaves the huddle of men, racing to pick me up.
“We did it!” he screams, kissing everywhere he can.
“Y’all did it!” I shout back over the noise.
He looks over my head and jerks his chin at our crew before stalking across the stage to where the reporters are firing questions. It’s all a blur as the commissioner gives his speech and the coach and owner accept the trophy, and then all eyes fall on Nick. He’s still holding me close as he accepts the MVP award again then immediately hands it off to his team.
It’s wild, loud, and crazy, but none of it compares to the excitement I’m feeling.
“I held up my end of the deal, Sweet Peach,” Nick says so only I can hear.
“As did I.”
His eyes grow wide with shock, and I take the opportunity to dig the piece of paper out of my pocket. He turns to shield us and takes it from me.
“Congratulations! Should I call you MVP or Daddy?”
He doesn’t answer, staring at the sonogram. When he raises his eyes to mine, they’re shining with unshed tears.
“I’ve haven’t cried since I was fourteen years old, but you’ve brought me to my knees. When I didn’t think I could love you anymore, you prove me wrong. Three years, eleven months, and five days. ”
A lump forms in my throat and I fight back my own tears.
The crowds start roaring again, and then the chanting starts.
“SEXY! SEXY! SEXY!” gets louder and louder until he’s forced to hand me back the picture, kissing me quickly and turning to the fans. We’re swept to the front, and a microphone is shoved in his face.
He can’t hide his emotions this time, his voice cracking as he praises the teamwork that made it possible to win this game.
The entire time he speaks, he never lets me go.
And I know, he never will.
