Page 92 of Hail Marry
And yet…Luca also saidThat’s not the sort of person you let get away, sir.
What does it mean?!
I almost asked him yesterday, almost admitted everything just to keep myself from going crazy. But he was on his way out to the hotel, and it seemed selfish to try to have a serious discussion about our relationship when he’s trying to focus on his first NFL game ever.
Or maybe I’m just grasping for excuses not to put myself out there. Being dumped by Ryan crushed me; I can’t imagine how it would feel if that happened with Lucaandwe still had over a year and a half of marriage to do together.
I shower and do my hair and makeup, then open up the closet and halt.
Hanging there in front of all my clothes is a light-blue Admirals jersey. There’s a sticky note attached to it, and I pull it off.
In case you need something to wear today.
I unhook the hanger from the bar, my eyes on the big, white number 19. I turn it around to seeCallahanwritten in all-caps on the back.
It’s his name. But it’s also mine.
I’ve grown really fond of it. It’ll be hard to give it up when the time comes. I’ve wondered how Luca feels about me using it, because the truth is, he didn’t give it to me willingly. He was forced into it.
But he wasn’t forced to give me this jersey.
I stare at the name a little more, then pull the jersey off the hanger and over my head. If any part of Luca wants me to wear his name, I will wear the heck out of it.
I drive to the stadium and park, and even though I get princess parking as a spouse of a team member, my family is already waiting at the stadium entrance. They’re decked out in Admiral colors: light blue, white, and black. The men in particular have gone fully front-row-fanatic. Jack has his face painted blue, with a black-outlined number 19 on one cheek. Troy has sprayed his hair blue and is holding a sign that says Callahan for Rookie of the Year. Baby Eden is wearing an Admirals onesie and sucking on a football-shaped pacifier. Austin has zero shame, wearing an old-school bicorne admiral hat with gold trim like he just got off the set ofMaster and Commander. Even my dad has put blue stripes under his eyes to match his Admirals shirt.
“You’re all dorks,” I say, but I hug each one of them extra tight. I’m so grateful for a family that will show up for Luca. Every single one of them insisted on coming, including Siena, who’s finally past her morning sickness but is now in full third-trimester discomfort. I make a mental note to talk to her about pregnancy pillows.
We take our seats in the family section, and the stadium starts to fill. I went to a couple of football games in college, and they were fun, but this? It’s totally different.
When the team runs out, my family goes wild. Jack pulls off his shirt to reveal his entire upper-body painted in blue.
“I married a Smurf,” Siena says resignedly, reaching for the popcorn he bought her.
Mia leans over and kisses Austin on the cheek. “Proud of you for keeping your shirt on, babe. I know how hard that is for you.”
I’m vaguely aware of the talking going on amidst the screaming, but I’m jumping up and down, cheering, my gaze fixed on Luca as he jogs out from the tunnel. This is my first time seeing him in uniform, and it does…things…to me. Things I can’t explain.
I’m hot and bothered but also teary-eyed. We women are complicated creatures.
When Luca lines up for the kick-off, my heart goes berserk with nerves and anticipation. It continues to beat quickly the entire game, with surges of activity whenever the offense is on the field and the ball is snapped.
It’s excitement and terror and nail-biting anxiety as I mostly ignore the ball and watch Luca’s every move. I cringe whenever he and another player make contact. When he makes his first catch of the game, I shout like a lunatic as he charges downfield.
Until he gets rammed by number 24 on the opposing team. My cheering cuts off abruptly as if I’m the one who just got barreled into. I go on my tiptoes, trying to see what’s happening in the heap of bodies around Luca, my anxiety going full-throttle.
Is he hurt? What am I thinking?! How could henotbe?
“Come on, ref!” I yell. “Throw 24 out of the game!”
“Tori,” Troy says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “It was a clean hit.”
“Clean?” I say incredulously. “He almost killed Luca!”
“He’s fine. See?”
Sure enough, the bodies begin to disperse, and Luca gets up, the football still cradled in his arms.
I let out a massive sigh of relief.
