Page 165 of It's Always Us

We watch him warm up, tossing a ball to a trainer. Flashes of him in the middle of a much smaller stadium with thousands of fewer fans zip through my mind. Same guy, but the man on this field and I share a life. We’re more than best friends and lovers. He’s my partner. The father of our girls. The one I’ll spend the rest of my life loving up close. I’ll never take it for granted, knowing exactly what it’s like to not be with the one who owns my heart.

He jogs toward us, removing his helmet and holding it at his side.

He grabs my face, kissing me as if we’re the only two in the stadium, not caring in the slightest that there are people and cameras surrounding us.

“For getting lucky,” he says, grinning like he has a secret.

“You’ve never needed luck.”

His lips move close to my ear. “Baby, I’m not talking about the game.” I shove him, and his grin creeps even higher. He bends down and scoops Bree into a big bear hug. “All right, Breezy. I expect to hear you all the way down here, and when we get home tonight, we’re finishing those next two slides.”

Bree high-fives him. They’ve been working on a comic strip about a brother-sister duo who save kids from the monsters in their closets. I hear them laughing and carrying on through the house, and it’s helped Bree adjust to all the changes.

She’s fallen right in with Maggie and Shane’s crew like they’ve known each other forever. We help her write letters to Linda and make sure that she gets the ones her mom sends back. The stability of having a permanent place to call home and her own room and space has helped her settle in.

“Give me my girls.” Mark lifts Peyton out of the stroller, and I hand over Ellie as he beams like the proudest man on the planet.

He turns toward every camera, snapping away, kissing both of their chubby cheeks as they smile and coo. The man has always known how to play it up, but this is just Mark in dad mode. It’s as if this is truly what he was born to do. It’s obnoxious, and I love every second of it.

He kisses one and then the other as he hands them back to me, pressing his lips to mine. “See you in a couple of hours.”

I smile. “I’ll be there.” Being here when the game is over might not seem like a big deal to some, but to Mark and me, it’s everything.

He jogs away, and I put the babies in the stroller. Bree and I make our way through the stadium and up to the box to join Shane, Maggie, and the kids. When we get there, Bree joins the boys in the seats outside, screaming and yelling as the Big Horns take the field.

Shane scoops up Ellie with one arm, holding his guy in his other, and takes off as I release Peyton from her seat.

“Have you ever seen men more thrilled to have babies in their arms than these dudes?” Maggie says, watching him juggle the two.

I laugh. “I’m pretty sure Mark works the girls into every interview just to make sure everyone knows he’s a dad.”

Maggie rubs her stomach as she sips a Sprite. “Shane’s practicing the double hold. He’s been counting down the days until he could punch them in the face with us having number two.”

“You’re pregnant? Congratulations!” I slide my free arm around her shoulders and squeeze. “Thanks a lot. Now, Mark will be all over me about number three,” I tease.

“We need Andie here. We’ve got to set these men straight that we will not literally be birthing a football team. If Shane had it his way, I’d never not be pregnant.”

“I’m down for whatever kind of intervention we need to have.” I laugh. “Mark is convinced he makes nothing but multiples.”

“Well, I know Andie will join. She’s barely sleeping with their two, and with this being Sean’s last season, she said he’s pre-planning for a celebratory number three. I’m calling the group home to find out what kind of cocktail they were feeding these nutballs.”

“I think Mark got a double dose,” I say, following her to join Shane and the kids.

The coin is tossed, the ball is punted, and Mark jogs out on the field to take charge and call plays.

I spend the next two hours swapping and feeding fussy babies while keeping my eyes glued to the field and Mark. Our group is loud and often on their feet, but I watch calmly and quietly, savoring every moment of the whole experience and getting to be a part of it.

With one minute and twenty-three seconds on the clock, Mark kneels and sets up to kneel a second time, ending the game. He pulls off his helmet and searches for our box, and when he spots us, his fist moves to his chest just like he did after every high school game. My hand finds my heart in return.

Like a mob, we move through the stadium. At an exit, I part ways with Maggie, Shane, and the kids. Bree was happy to join them and get a head start on the after-party, which will involve streaming Sean and Cole’s games. I continue to weave through the crowd with the stroller, eventually showing my badge to get into the family waiting area.

With both girls sleeping, I roll the stroller back and forth, hoping their much-needed nap isn’t disturbed. It’s not long before players filter in. Mark strolls through the doors with a grin plastered to his face wearing a pink T-shirt that says ‘Girl Dad.’ This man is so into fatherhood I can’t help but think about doing it again with him . . . someday.

His shirt is tight across his chest. His jeans are just the right amount of fitted. His hair is a little messy, but it’s the look in his eyes that has me biting my lip and holding my breath.

What Maggie said rolls through my mind, and I can’t help but laugh as he bends to pick me up, lifting me off the ground. I wrap my legs around him, pressing my forehead to his.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for this moment for nine years.”

---