Page 119 of Pieces

I keep thinking about how this year is like the start of something huge. Seb will be headed to Seattle, and Miles is staying close but still graduating. And me? I’m having a baby.

It all feels very real and grown-up.

The three of us—me, Seb, and Miles—have been through everything together. Early morning lifts, brutal practices, game-day highs, and crushing losses. It’s always been us. And now they’re leaving, chasing their futures, while I’m staying here and living my future.

I’m happy for them. But there’s something about watching your best friends move on while you’re staying in one place that hits harder than I thought it would.

Seb’s laugh pulls my attention back, and I watch as he’s mobbed by the team. This is his moment, and it’s everything he deserves.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Daphne says beside me. I look down at her, those baby blues I love to get lost in pull me in like always.

I move closer to her, the chaos around us fading, as I lift my hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Her belly brushes against mine and my eyes glance down at our daughter. Because I just know it’s a girl.

“I’m thinking how this will be me next year.”

Biting down on her lip, she nods. “It will. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“You have?” I ask, watching her carefully.

She finally releases her bottom lip, blue eyes shining on me. “Wherever you end up, I want us to follow you.”

My heart flies out of my chest and straight into her hands, like she didn’t own it already.

“I don’t care where you end up, that’s where we’ll be. Okay?”

I swear I’m holding on by a thread. “You mean that?”

She smiles, big and beautiful. “Of course I mean it.”

“I love you,” I say, my voice quiet. My fingers brush gently from behind her ear, trailing down her collarbone, between her breasts where I feel the hitch of her breath. My hand comes to rest over her bump, her warm skin radiating through the fabric. “And her,” I add, my throat tightening at the weight of those words.

Her lips part like she wants to say something, but nothing comes out. Instead, her hand covers mine, holding it there as she leans into me.

The noise of the party fades completely. It’s just us…me, Daphne, and this little life we made. Leaning closer to her, I kiss her cheek, letting my lips linger against her soft skin. Her scent, something light and familiar, fills my senses, grounding me.

“I love you too, baby,” she says, her voice trembling just a little. Her hand presses over mine, still resting on her bump, and the connection between us feels unshakable.

I lean my forehead against hers, closing my eyes for a second. These two people are everything I never knew I wanted but now can’t imagine living without.

Seb and Miles might be leaving, and my future might be a giant question mark, but this? This is my anchor. My reason to keep moving forward.

Chapter fifty-one

36 weeks

The problem with being late when you’re more than eight and a half months pregnant and trying to rush to the other side of campus is that waddling is the slowest form of transportation. I’m going to be late for my calculus final. I should make peace with this fact, but I’m no quitter. Hence why my big, fat feet are slapping against the concrete at an alarming rate. If Hudson saw how fast I was moving, he’d flip out, but I have to pass this class. It’s a prerequisite one, so here I go, waddling my way through life.

I glance at my watch. Seven minutes. Seven freaking minutes to get across campus and sit down before my calculus professor locks the doors.

My breathing comes in short bursts, partly from exertion and partly from the baby is pressing against my lungs like she’s annoyed by my decision to speed-waddle. God, even I call them a she now. Hudson has made me believe he’s right.

“Okay, kid,” I mutter under my breath, one hand bracing my lower back, the other resting on my belly. “I know you don’t like this, but just bear with me, alright? Mommy’s got to ace this test, or it’s all over.”

A sharp cramp pulls me up short, and I wince, leaning against a nearby bench. It’s nothing serious—just the usual round ligament pain, my doctor called it—but it’s a reminder that I need to slow down. I can practically hear Hudson’s voice in my head, telling me to take it easy.“Daph, if you keep running around like this, you’re going to end up flat on your ass, and then where will we be?”He says it lightheartedly, but I know him well enough now to catch the thread of worry that runs under every word. But Dr. Carter said that everything looks great; the placenta has shifted, we’re on track with growth charts. Everything is going to be okay.

“Okay, okay,” I sigh, straightening up and forcing myself to walk at a more reasonable pace. “We’ll slow it down. But if I miss this test, you’re explaining it to Daddy.”

A group of students brushes past me, one of them nearly knocking into me. “Sorry!” they call over their shoulder, but they’re already halfway down the path, their energy and carefree laughter fading into the distance. For a moment, I envy them. Finals week stress is one thing, but add pregnancy hormones, swollen ankles, and a human being playing trampoline with your bladder, and it’s a whole other level of chaos.

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