Page 77 of The Game Plan
“I wasn’t going to lose her. No contract is worth it, not when the alternative is not having a life with the woman I love. While you might not understand that because coaching football is your passion, she’s mine.”
The emotion in Grant’s voice has me whipping my head in his direction. The air is sucked from my lungs as I blink fast to keep the dreaded tears at bay. Without thought, my hand is reaching out. I grip the side of his face, turning until he’s facing me, and lean in to kiss him. It’s a sweet kiss, nothing more than a lingering peck on the lips, but it’s enough to convey how I feel for him in this moment.
“I love you,” I murmur against his lips. And I do.
A smile spreads across Grant’s face as he presses another soft kiss to my lips. “I love you, too.”
Our love isn’t the kind of love you hear about. It’s not the kind of love where two people meet, date each other, fall in love, and stick together for years. Ours was chaotic and messy. Fear of the unknown kept me paralyzed from giving this man all of me from the start. But while my fear of commitment kept us from being together in the traditional sense, he stole my heart a long time ago. It’s taken years for the fear to subside, the worry and self-doubt to dissipate. All this time, I was waiting for my brain tocatch up and give in to what my heart had given away so long ago.
I brush my fingers against my lips as I sit back in my chair. A blush warms my cheeks as I bashfully glance around and offer a tight-lipped smile. But as I glance at this dad, he’s watching us, and whatever he sees, he must like, because his features soften as he looks at us.
“At the end of the day, you made a choice. I may not agree with it, but I’ll stand behind you. You might be an adult, but you’re still my son, and I’ll have your back. That’s what fathers do. All I’m asking is that you give this a moment before going public. Let’s get ahead so we can control the narrative.”
Grant nods. “We can do that.”
And it’s like the dark grey clouds that were hanging above us made way for bright blue skies. The storm had disappeared, giving way to a perfect, clear day.
“For what it’s worth,” Emily starts, tapping the top of my hand before gripping it. “This was never about you, Savannah. It was the shock of it all, the secrecy. Derek and I want your marriage to work. We want you both to feel loved and supported.”
I manage a smile as my throat thickens. “Th-that means a lot. I’m sorry for the emotions. I wasn’t raised with”—I gesture around the table—“a family that gave a damn about each other. I promise it isn’t an excuse, but I’m still learning.”
Her expression softens. “You don’t have to apologize. Showing emotion isn’t a weakness. It means you care. But you don’t have to worry about not having a family, because you have one now. You and your baby.”
“Speaking of,” Derek cuts in. “Any chance you’re having a little wide receiver? I know a pretty good coach.”
I chuckle, smiling brightly at the man who looks like an older version of Grant. “It’s a girl.”
“Oh, how exciting,” Emily gushes. “Do you have a name picked out?”
Uneasiness settles over me. I don’t have a name yet. Like everything else, it’s been shoved to the back burner. Still, I’ve been keeping a list—names I hear and like. Nibbling on my lower lip, I shake my head.
“That’s okay, sweetie. Sometimes it takes seeing your baby for a name to come to you.”
I nod without answering, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
“Do you have everything ready? For the baby, I mean. No one’s ever ready for the actual baby.”
“Getting there. I spent all day yesterday washing laundry and doing some light nesting. It doesn’t feel like anything is ever crossed off my to-do list.”
“You’re going to be a great mom, Sav,” Bret says. As terrible as it is, I almost forgot that she and Crew were here. It feels like all the attention has been on me and Grant, and I feel guilty about them having witnessed everything. But part of me is grateful they’re here, even if it’s only for moral support.
Once again, I’m blinking back tears. I will not miss this constant need to cry once my hormones are back in check.
“I hope I’m not overstepping,” Emily begins, looking at her husband with a wistful smile. “If you need anything at all, Savannah, please call us. If you need someone to babysit so you can attend classes, someone to hold her while you find time to shower, or if you want a break or advice, I’d love to be there for you. Derek and I both.”
“I’d really like that,” I whisper. She might not bemymom, but she’s Grant’s. And maybe, someday, she’ll be like a mother to me, too.
“And I hope when the time is right, we can be grandparents in every sense of the word. Spoil her, love her—”
“Teach her to throw a football,” Derek adds.
Bret scoffs. “No way. Teach her how to shoot a jump shot.”
We all chuckle as Derek and Bret stare each other down.
As rocky as the night started, I can’t help but feel at ease. This is what family is all about. They support each other, no matter what. Even when they aren’t thrilled with each other, their love never wavers.
As we settle into the truck for a drive home, I’m hit with another tightening in my stomach. It’s almost a crampy feeling that has me sucking in a deep breath. Luckily, the music is on, and Grant doesn’t notice my discomfort. Braxton Hicks contractions have been happening more and more. Each time, they get a little stronger, and I know it won’t be long until Jellybean arrives.
