Page 99 of Pucking Strong

I mean, I’m still me. Hello, I’ve still been chaotic and emotional. I didn’t get a personality transplant in Sweden. No, what I got was a family. Or, more accurately, a family got me. They picked me up and placed me in their lives, desperate to replace their missing piece.

Everyone here is so focused on whether Henrik wants me in his life. But what about Karro? She didn’t even get a choice. She just woke up in a hospital one morning, and there I was, smiling and speaking English, pulling magic bears out of my backpack. My wildly inappropriate crush on her uncle has taken something of a back seat, as we’ve both just focused on making sure she’s happy and healthy and moving through her grief.

“Teddy?”

I turn to my mother, blinking back my tears. “Yeah, Mama?”

She’s wearing her glasses with the red frames, hands folded over her middle. Slowly, she stands. Then she holds out her hand. Heart in my throat, I step forward. Crossing to her side, I place my hand inhers, gazing down at her. With her free hand, she cups my cheek. I fight the urge to pull away. Tears fill my eyes, and I close them quick.

“Look at me, baby.”

Letting out a shaky breath, I open my eyes.

Her hand drops down to my shoulder, brushing my locs back. “Do your sisters have the way of it? Are you indifferent to the man you married?”

Groaning, I try to pull away. “I can’t do this—”

Her hand tightens on my shoulder. “Don’t pull away from me. You are my Teddy. I knit you from scratch.” Shifting her hand lower, she presses it to my chest. “I made this heart, baby. Are you hiding from me now? Are you hiding from yourself?”

“Mama …”

“Does your heart beat for that man and that little girl?”

After a moment, I nod. Then all my breath leaves my chest on a sob. God, I can’t keep stifling this truth. I can’t keep playing pretend. “I don’t know what happened,” I admit. “I can’t make it stop, Mama. I can’t walk away. She needs me. I don’t wanna walk away. Not when I know he needs me too.”

She nods. “You’ve always loved to feel needed, baby. And you’re so good at helping others. You give and give. Lord knows you’d give until there’s nothing left for yourself.”

“I know,” I murmur.

Reaching up again, she tucks my locs behind my ear. “Your sisters are right to caution you, baby.”

“Why?”

She offers a faint smile, dropping her hand from my cheek. “There’s always gonna be someone who needs what you have to offer. But some day, you’re gonna realize that being needed isn’t where true happiness lies. Not for someone like you who loves with his whole heart and soul.”

I sigh, searching her face. “What do I do, Mama?”

“True happiness for you is only gonna come when you’rewanted, baby. So, you need to ask yourself: Does this family just need you … or do they really want you?”

Before I can answer, Henrik comes walking through the door.

“Hey, there he is!” A tall Black man rises from the couch the moment he sees me enter the WAG room. “Great game. Really fun to watch.”

He nudges the Latino man next to him, who also rises. “Uhh … yeah. Hey, yours was the best goal of the night.”

“Thank you,” I say on reflex.

Something’s off. Tension hangs heavy in the air. Have I interrupted some private moment? Their pinched smiles give them away. Ah, I see. They were all just talking about me. I look to Teddy, but he has his back turned, nodding as his mother says something low.

In an instant, all three sisters rise from the nearest sofa and turn as one. There’s a flurry of introductions as I shake the hands of Shae and her husband, Marcus. He’s the taller man. Then there’s Jayla and her husband, Rafael. Jayla is the one who was screaming at the game, telling everyone in their section that Teddy is my husband. Her hair is long and braided, with a few colorful strands woven in to make a rainbow effect. Her complexion is fair, like Teddy’s, while the other sisters have darker skin, like their mother.

The willowy athletic-looking sister is Natalie. She doesn’t shake my hand because she’s holding a sleeping baby. Her boyfriend Darius shakes my hand. He’s short and lean, with a wide smile.

Why do I get the distinct impression that they’re keeping me cornered, buying Teddy time to speak to his mother alone? I can feel the tension flowing off him, even from here. Did they upset him?

“And those are my kids,” says Jayla, pointing across the room. “We have Bastian, the only boy cousin in the family. We all call him Baz. And see the one with the pink beads in her braids? That’s Camila. She’s eight—”

“Wonderful,” I say, extracting myself from her hold. “Please excuse me.” I duck around her, weaving past the other children until I’m free to approach Teddy.

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