Page 34 of Remember Me

For the next few hours, there was nothing but this—the perfect simplicity of hunting a quarterback under the brightest lights in sports while watching our own quarterback create magic.

And win or lose, I would walk off this field knowing I had given everything. For my team. For myself. For Reign and the kids watching from above.

That's all a man could ask for.

Chapter Nine

Britt

Are kids like dogs? Can they sense when you're pregnant?

Because one of Reign's twins – Georgia or Delaney (I can't tell them apart) is staring at me like she knows all of my life’s secrets. It's distracting, to say the least, and I can't concentrate on the game.

Something that has never been my problem. Sports have always been my life. Baseball, football, basketball, and even hockey thanks to Sienna, my friend from college. Sports was my life. If there was competition involved, I would watch it. Yet, here I was trying to hold off the nervous bounce of my leg in fear that I’d accidentally bounce a Walker child across the room.

I wasn’t nervous for the game. No. Everything about it felt a little lackluster when compared to the monumental change coming my way.

“You okay, Britt?” Reign asked, subtly taking her daughter off my lap and putting her on hers. “What about you Delaney?” Ah, Delaney! Reign tickled her belly, and Delaney let out the cutest giggle I'd ever heard. Then she nuzzled her nose and let Georgia climb onto her other knee. So devoted. So homely. So not me. God, she was perfect. No wonder Devin wanted to lock her down so fast.

Could I even do that? Was the IVF treatment arduous because I wasn’t really built for motherhood? Countless treatments with more disappointments than I cared to count and I’d finally gotten pregnant. I was ecstatic, but now that I’d seen Reign in action with her five children, rocking it amongst the WAGs of the Charlotte Crossbills, I wasn’t so sure I could do it.

Would I still have a career? Would the networks want me if I couldn't get the baby weight off? If I go back to work, will I regret leaving my kids to be raised by someone else?

I didn't know the answer to any of those things because I didn't know what I wanted, and in reality, having the Super Bowl as our meeting point with our friends was a good excuse to not share the news. I didn't know what else to do with it.

“I'm good,” I said in a tone which was most definitely not good, but Reign didn't seem to notice. Probably too busy with all those kids. I took a bite of the food in front of me, but then my chews slowed. Was there cheese in this? Did I have to worry about whether or not it was pasteurized? I also tasted fish. Didn’t I read somewhere that you aren't supposed to eat fish when pregnant?

I had no idea, but I bet Reign would know. She was just such a damn natural at all of this.

“Are you sure you're okay? You look a little pale.” She was giving her usual caring smile, and just as I was about to give her one back, my stomach roiled.

I threw my hand to my mouth. “I think I'm going to be sick,” I mumbled out, rushing through our friends and to the bathroom.

Thanking the lord that the boxed area had its own private bathroom, I pushed through the doors. The second my knees fell to the pristine, black marble tile I was throwing up before I could think about where it was going to land.

Shit.

All over my jersey. Did I even have anything else to wear? How would I explain this?

I picked at the hair sticking to the jersey, only for the smell to make my stomach roil again.

“Damn it,” I groused, dropping my head to the toilet seat. My blonde hair was falling to the sides, but I was gripping the seat so hard, I had no free hands to push it back.

I didn't hear the bathroom door open over my own gagging, but suddenly there was a gentle presence beside me.

“Here, let me help.”

Hayden. Not Matty.

She knelt beside me, gathering my hair back with one hand while her other rubbed soothing circles between my shoulder blades. Her touch was gentle but certain, like someone who'd done this before.

“I've got you,” she said softly, her voice steady as I continued to heave into the toilet.

When the wave of nausea finally passed, I slumped back against the bathroom wall, completely spent. Hayden handed me a damp paper towel that she must have grabbed when she came in.

“Thanks,” I muttered, wiping my mouth and closing my eyes. The cool tile felt good against my back, even through my shirt.

Hayden’s shoulder brushed mine as she sat down beside me.

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