Page 100 of Force Play

“That depends on what Indie wants. There are a lot of big decisions, but none of them need to be made today.”

“I already know,” Indie says, shocking us both. My mouth opens to argue, but Dr. Smith is right, this is Indie’s show now. I just hope she decides to fight like hell because I can’t lose her.

“Take some time. Nothing needs to happen today,” Dr. Smith tries again.

Next to me, Indie shakes her head, brushing away the tears and sucking in a shaky breath. “I want to schedule surgery.” There’s resolve in her voice and I’m so fucking proud of her for fighting, but she needs to be sure. These surgeries have life-changing impacts.

“Baby—”

“No, Dom, it’s what I want.”

Letting go of her hand for the first time since she got out of the car, I turn her chair so she’s facing me. “This is your decision, and we’ll do whatever you want. I’m not trying to talk you out of anything. Fuck, you’re so goddamn strong. I want to fight right alongside you, but I need you to be sure.” I pause, making sure she’s listening before I emphasize, “I’ll be here for all of it. No matter what.”

“I’d like to just impress one more time that you don’t need—”

Indie turns back towards her friend and colleague. “Maryann, I know. But I’m telling you, I won’t change my mind,” Indie says, her voice stronger now. “My mom never got this chance. She fought with everything she had, but she didn’t have this. And I do. Give me the best chance to have the future I want. Let me fight.”

“Okay. Well, what about freezing your eggs? Have you given that any thought?”

I hold my breath waiting on Indie’s answer, but it doesn’t come. She looks back at me and then back at Dr. Smith. “Can you give us a moment?”

“Yes. Take as long as you need. Text me when you’re ready for me to come back.” She squeezes Indie’s hand before she stands, giving us the room.

When the door shuts, Indie stands from her chair, moving to my lap. “I’m not ready to have babies yet. But that means you’ll never be able to have kids with me without help from IVF or a surrogate.”

I pull her down so our foreheads are touching. “As long as I get to keep you, the rest is just icing on the cake.”

“Are you sure about that?” Her fingers sink into my hair, holding us together.

“Yep, and I’ve got a plan.” Let’s just hope she doesn’t hate it.

“A plan?”

“Yeah, Baby, a plan. I’ve been researching for weeks. I meant what I said, all these decisions are yours, but I’ve got a few thoughts if you’re willing to hear them—willing to do this together.”

She texts Maryann and we talk through the next steps, get a recommendation for a fertility specialist and a surgeon for when the time comes.

Maryann wraps Indie in a hug, and we walk hand in hand out to the car. The rest of the afternoon is filled with chaos as we check things off our to-do list. Researching insurance options—all of which suck—and looking at calendars to plan out how we can make this work, all of it needs to happen quickly if I’m going to be there to help her through this first obstacle, seeing a fertility specialist with just a week left in the regular season.

It takes me pulling a few strings, and a vague call to Lara who knows just about everyone in the city, but she’s able to help get us in to see one of the best fertility specialists in the area.

The next afternoon, after a conversation with Coach and filling him in on the latest developments, I’m able to sneak out between meetings and pregame warmups to meet Indie at the fertility specialist for an ultrasound and more blood work. It’s the first step so we can start the process of freezing her eggs.

It doesn’t take long for me to realize that this whole process would be nearly impossible on her own. The paperwork alone is enough to leave you seeing double, then there’s the information overload and the bills you know are coming. Indie is smart as hell and more driven than most but this all would have been a huge burden to deal with alone.

Our game that night clinches our place in the postseason, something I’ve chased my entire career. But it’s not what’s on my mind when I leave the stadium. No, the only thing I want is to get back to Indie and Ronnie, who are watching the game together at her place.

“Are you coming out to celebrate at Draft?” Xavier asks, surrounded by Dean, Mia, Poppy, Cruz, Hendrix, and Delilah.

“Not tonight, I gotta get home.” It’s not exactly a lie, but none of them know the reason behind why Indie’s not feeling well. They all just assumed she’s got a bug and since Indie’s not ready to tell anyone, I haven’t corrected them.

“I hope she’s feeling better,” Delilah says.

“Are you sure we can’t bring her anything?” Poppy asks for the third time, sounding a little hurt.

“I’ll ask her again. She’d probably love a text to let her know you’re thinking of her,” I add.

“Or maybe we’ll all just show up at the door, soup in hand,” Mia threatens.

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