Page 47 of Remember Me

“Not a chance,” he grinned. “But seriously, man. Everyone's rooting for you. Your sister's already crying, and you haven't even asked yet.”

I glanced toward the sidelines where my family waited. Sure enough, Thea was dabbing at her eyes while my parents stood with barely contained excitement.

Thea had been waiting for years for this moment. Pestered me since I got drafted, but I held my ground because I wanted to make sure everything was just right this time. I was honestly shocked she hadn't spilled the secret; my sister was notorious for her inability to keep anything confidential longer than forty-eight hours. The fact that she'd managed to stay quiet about my plans since we secured a place in the Super Bowl was nothing short of miraculous.

Everyone knew. My team. My family. Our friends. Everyone except Aster.

Since the moment I kissed her on the field and had to protect her from the sprinkler wrath, I’d known she was different. By our first anniversary, I was mentally drafting proposal scenarios. I was too eager then. That was when she found the ring I’d planned to propose to her with. My grandmother’s and that was when all hell broke loose. The timing was off, things were going crazy with my sister and Jackson. She was nowhere near finishing college, and I was about to be drafted.

I could see it now, and that was why I waited so long for this. For her.

Standing on the field after winning the Super Bowl? It was perfect. Almost too perfect, like a scene from someone else's life.

My eyes scanned the crowded field, searching for her familiar form among the crowd. The box felt heavy in my hand, my palm sweaty against the velvet. What if she thought it was too cliché? What if she wanted something more private, more personal? What if—

“She's over by the twenty-yard line,” Dean interrupted my spiraling thoughts. “Go get her before you psyche yourself out.”

He was right. I'd faced down three-hundred-pound linemen intent on crushing me, had made split-second decisions with millions watching, had thrown the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl less than an hour ago. I could do this.

I spotted Thea and Jackson on the sideline, camera still in hand, both giving me enthusiastic thumbs up. Thea mouthed something that looked like “Don't mess it up,” which was exactly the kind of supportive sisterly love I'd expect from her. Jackson was already positioning himself for the perfect shot, ever the professional content creator even at his girlfriend's brother's life-changing moment.

Then, finally, I saw her—Aster's copper hair catching the stadium lights, her small figure standing slightly apart from her family, observing it all peacefully. I loved that about her. In all the chaos, she was quiet. She was what gave me perspective. She wasn't jumping or screaming like many of the other players' partners. She was simply taking it all in, processing, cataloging the experience in that brilliant mind of hers.

I moved toward her, drawn like gravity, the rest of the world fading into background noise. When she spotted me, her face transformed—the reserved observer giving way to unrestrained joy as she rushed to meet me.

“Tanner!” She threw her arms around my neck, and I lifted her off her feet, spinning her once as I breathed her in. When I set her down, her eyes were bright with excitement and pride. “That touchdown pass was mathematically perfect. The exact angle to avoid the defender's reach while accounting for the receiver's stride length. I've never seen anything like it.”

Only Aster would describe a game-winning throw in terms of geometry, and God help me, I loved her for it.

“All those hours you spent with me analyzing film,” I said, unable to stop smiling despite the nervous energy coursing through me. “You're the secret weapon no one knows about.”

She studied my face, her eyes narrowing slightly in that way they did when she was analyzing data points. “Why are you still sweating so much? The game's been over for twenty minutes.” Her hand came up to touch my cheek. “And your face is all puffy. Are you having an allergic reaction to something?”

I nearly laughed. Trust Aster to notice the physical manifestations of my anxiety and immediately seek a logical explanation.

“I'm fine,” I assured her, though my heart was hammering so hard I was certain she could hear it. “Just... excited.”

Over her shoulder, I saw Thea making frantic “get on with it” gestures while Jackson tried to subtly position himself for what would undoubtedly become content for their social feeds. My sister had her hands clasped under her chin, and my mother was squeezing my father's arm so tightly he might lose circulation.

“Now or never,” I muttered to myself.

“What?” Aster asked, head tilting in confusion.

I took a deep breath and dropped to one knee on the confetti-strewn field, looking up at the woman who had changed everything for me.

The weight of the box felt disproportionate to its size, as if it contained not just a ring but all my hopes for the future.

Aster immediately drew her hand to her mouth, her eyes widening as she inhaled sharply. The surprise on her face was genuine, which amazed me, considering her ability to see patterns and predict outcomes in nearly every situation. But maybe some things were too close, too personal for even her analytical mind to anticipate.

I became aware of a shift in the crowd around us, a ripple of recognition spreading outward, but I focused only on her. On the way her eyes glistened in the stadium lights, on the slight tremble of her fingers against her lips, on the flush rising on her cheeks.

“Aster Abigail Paige,” I began, my voice steady despite the rapid drumming of my heart.

“I love you more than I could have ever believed possible.” The words felt simultaneously inadequate and perfect. “You are the best thing about me. Everything I have is because of you. You’ve changed the way I see the world. The way I see myself. With you, everything is brighter, clearer, louder in all the best ways.”

“Oh, Tanner.” Her voice was soft, but I didn’t let her continue.

“You’re my best friend. My home. My heart.”

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