Page 75 of Final Down

“What’s going on, Wy?”

I gnaw at my bottom lip as I drop my hands into my pant pockets and glance out at the wide-open space that spans the vista. This land is Peyton’s family’s, and it goes all the way to the edge of the mountain. It’s where our kids are going to grow up exploring, learning about horses, about desert creatures, and a little bit about football too.

“I don’t want to miss this,” I finally breathe out.

My head pivots, and I meet his waiting gaze.

“So, you won’t. You’ll be home a lot. And Peyton will come to you, and maybe you guys buy a house when we land a longer contract, and?—”

“This is her home, Bryce. She wants to raise our kids here. She wants more. I want more. And I don’t want her giving that up for football. I don’t want to miss out on the little things that happen when I’m not home. I just . . . I can’t live that way.”

“Ahh,” he sighs, folding his hands behind his neck as he slowly spins in place, looking out at the same horizon I did.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

“I’m so sorry, dude.”

He shakes his head.

“Nah, don’t be sorry. You’re not wrong. And I can’t argue with a damn thing you said because if I were you, I wouldn’t want to give up any of that, either.”

I swallow hard, glad he gets it. Doesn’t take away the knot in my diaphragm, though. I feel bad leaving him in a lurch. And Whiskey—I love playing with that guy. But I love Peyton more. And I love our son. And his future brother or sister. And my mom, and Jeff. And this place.

“What if?—”

Bryce stops mid-sentence, but I turn to face him and tilt my head, drawing his eyes to mine.

“Go on,” I urge.

“What if I get you the perfect storm?”

I marinate on his words, not asking exactly what he means.

“It’s not a money thing,” I say, though if he came to me with big money, it would be hard to walk away from that. I couldn’t.Wecouldn’t.

“I know what it is, Wyatt. I’m asking you . . . if I get it, does that change things?”

I match his stare and fast-forward through this potential life. Football until I’m into my late thirties. A home of my own, built exactly the way Peyton and I want it, but on this land. Being able to watch my son grow up. His sister or brother grow up. My mom retire and find happiness. To stay home, where my wife’s heart is and will always be.

“The perfect storm?” I ask him, our eyes locked in a silent agreement.

“Yep. All of it.”

I take a deep breath and let my mouth curve up on one side.

“Well, hell, Bryce. That changes everything.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

January, the last game of the season

Inever thought a speech in front of my hometown school board would turn into an Etsy business, but here we are. It’s more Ellie’s business, but since she’s still in junior high, I offered to help with the logistics. I should have anticipated the volume before I said yes.

“I think that’s the last one,” I holler from my mom’s pantry-turned-shirt-storage room. I slide the small box I finished slapping a label on out the doorway and lean my back against the wall, blowing up at the small hairs sticking to my forehead.

“I’m printing out a new list!” My sister’s voice reverberates down the stairs and into the kitchen.

I drop my head and huff out a hard laugh.

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