Page 36 of Remember Me

A mom thing… would it become my thing too?

As Hayden slipped out of the bathroom, I caught the small, reassuring smile she sent my way. A silent promise of support.

I couldn’t face Matty yet. I just stared down at the messy toilet until I'd gained enough courage to look at my husband. When I lifted my head, he immediately offered me some toilet paper, and I wiped my mouth before throwing the tissue down the toilet and flushing.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, leaving my back against the wall. It was black snakeskin wallpaper, and I had to wonder who thought this was a good idea. It looked like a drug dealer's den.

With his back on the other wall, our legs intermingled, and we sat in silence. “They're going to think we're having sex if we don't get out there soon.”

He chuckled. “No, they're not. You were clearly throwing up. Besides, we aren't Aiden and Alyssa.” He smirked. “Did you see the way they walked in? She looked like she'd been railed for hours.”

I rolled my eyes, and as I did, Matty leaned over, bringing me in between his thighs, and I rested my head on his chest. His arms wrapped around me, and he stroked my hair. “I'm sorry you aren't feeling well. Do you think it's still morning sickness?”

“Well, since it's the evening, I don't think it can be counted as that.” He kissed my forehead, and just like that, I found myself at peace with Matty. Amongst all the chaos, he was still here. We were still together. Like always.

“I'm scared,” I admitted out loud for the first time. Matty didn't let go. He didn't even falter at the admittance.

“I know.”

I felt a lone tear trickle down my cheek, but I had no idea what I was crying for. “Nothing is ever going to be the same again.”

“When has it ever been the same?” I looked at him with confusion. “If it is, then you're standing still. Never moving, never striving, never becoming who you're supposed to be.”

He took my hand and squeezed it. “I am so proud of you Britt. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met inside and out, and there is no other person I'd want having my child than you.”

“Not even Reign,” I said with a little edge before wiping my nose. It was pathetic to be jealous of her because she’d only ever want to support me. I blamed the hormones. “She’s the perfect mother.”

“Reign?” Matty asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. “Firstly, Dev would kill me if he ever heard anyone even remotely suggesting that. Secondly, no. I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, but you're the only person I’ve ever wanted.” His free hand reached between us and rubbed my belly. Our baby. “Even when she's big enough that I can feel her kicking, all I will be thinking about is how beautiful and selfless the woman is carrying her.”

“Now come on. We should get back out there. The tacos they are serving are spicy, and I'm sure someone might be mad that we're hogging the toilet.” He helped me stand and offering me the new jersey.

“Do I look okay?” I asked with the new jersey on, feeling a lot less confident than I did walking in here.

“You look beautiful.” He kissed me, even with my vomity breath.

As we walked out, we were surprised to see that the lights had gone down because they were about to introduce the half-time act. Were we really in there that long that we hadn't seen the end of the first half? Apparently, but it didn’t matter because from the looks of the scoreboard, the Crossbills were still up by 13 points.

Chapter Ten

Thea

It’s not my fault you fell so fast.

I just smiled, and you forgot your past.

Call it magic, call it game,

Either way, you’ll never be the same.

The energy is palpable as Bailey Hill performs on stage. I’d seen her perform on TV countless times, watched every music video, streamed every song, but nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared me for seeing her live. She was merely a foot away and commanded the circular stage at midfield like she’d been born there.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, knowing my mic wouldn't pick it up over the thunderous sound system. “Holy. Shit.”

Bailey's voice soared over the stadium as she transitioned into her third song, the opening notes sending the crowd into a frenzy. Her dancers moved around her in perfect synchronization, a kaleidoscope of color and movement, but she remained the undeniable focal point. She was magnetic, powerful and impossibly present.

I couldn't help myself; my body started moving to the beat, my hips swaying as I held my microphone, temporarily forgetting I was here to work, not fangirl. But it was Bailey fucking Hill, and I was standing close enough to see the sweat on her forehead, the fierce determination in her eyes as she hit a particularly challenging note.

I felt Jackson shift beside me, steadying the camera on his shoulder as he captured the performance. We'd fallen into this routine over the past year. He’d film while I hosted, the perfect team both on and off camera. Together, we'd built something that neither of us could have created alone.

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