Page 65 of The Coach

I let out a rough laugh, shaking my head. “And then, because I’m an idiot, I didn’t even know your last name.”

Her mouth opens—then closes.

She blinks again.

Then, slowly, she drags a hand down her face.

“Ivy, I went back to Riverbend to try and find you.”

“Really?”

“Hand to God.”

“Wow,” she whispers. “I don’t even know what to think of that.”

“Do you believe me?”

“Yes. Strangely, I do.”

I lean forward, bracing my forearms on the table. “So yeah. I wanted to call you, and then you show up at a game… still impressed you guys got through security, by the way.” I pause, my heart still pounding. “I’m in a little shock right now, as you might imagine.”

Ivy lets out a sharp laugh.

She reaches for her water, but her hands are shaking too.

I don’t miss it.

“You think you’re in shock?” she mutters, staring at the table. “Try finding out you’re pregnant by peeing on a stick at six in the morning, alone in your bathroom, and then realizing the father of your baby is the freaking head coach of a pro football team when your stepdad talks about how the ‘Stallions are going to win it all this year.’”

A woman at a nearby table gasps.

A man at another table lowers his wine glass, eyebrows raised.

Ivy notices.

She closes her eyes, inhaling deeply. Then, when she speaks again, her voice is lower. “I swear to God, if this winds up on a sports blog…”

I exhale slowly, rubbing my face.

“…Yeah. Fair point. I’ll keep my voice down.”

She shifts in her seat, one hand pressing against her stomach.

My eyes flick down, locking onto the movement.

My chest tightens.

For the first time, I realize—really realize—what this means.

She’s pregnant.

With my baby.

And I wasn’t there.

I swallow hard, gripping the edge of the table.

“Ivy…” I pause, trying to gather my thoughts. “I don’t even know what to say. This is a lot to process.”

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