Page 25 of Game Changer
Mia comes to my side, taking my hand. "You've got this," she says. "We'll be right here waiting."
I lean down and kiss Tyler's forehead. "I'll see you soon, buddy. Be good for your mom."
Then I turn to Mia and kiss her properly, not caring that we have an audience. "Thank you," I whisper against her lips. "For everything."
"Just come back to us," she says, squeezing my hand.
I nod, then follow the nurse to the door. Before I go through, I turn back one last time.
"Whatever happens today, with my knee, with football, it doesn't change anything important. We're a team now. The three of us. And that's never going to change."
As they wheel me toward the operating room, I'm surprised to find I'm no longer terrified. Whatever happens in the next few hours, I've already won the most important game of my life. I have my son. I have Mia. I have a future worth fighting for.
The anesthesiologist asks me to count backward from ten. I make it to seven before darkness claims me, but my last conscious thought isn't of football or fame or my career.
It's Tyler's laugh. Mia's smile. Home.
Epilogue - Mia
One Year Later
"Morrison! Two minutes!" the trainer calls, clipboard in hand, headset around his neck.
David doesn't move. He stands frozen at the tunnel entrance, helmet in hands, staring out at the field where sixty thousand fans roar in anticipation. The nervous energy rolling off him is almost tangible. After a year, six months of recovery followed by six grueling months of training to rebuild his body, this is it. His return to the game that once defined him.
I squeeze through the cluster of staff and players to reach him, Tyler's hand firmly in mine.
"Hey," I say, touching his arm. "You've got this."
He looks down at me, doubt clouding his eyes. "What if I can't do it? What if the knee doesn't hold?"
"It will," I assure him, adjusting his jersey collar unnecessarily, just needing to touch him, to connect. "You've always been a genius on the field. That hasn't changed."
"Mom's right," Tyler pipes up, bouncing with excitement in his team jersey—a miniature version of David's, complete with the Morrison name and number. "You're gonna be awesome, Dad."
David kneels down, bringing himself eye-level with our son. "What do you think? Should I score a touchdown just for you?"
Tyler grins, revealing the gap where another baby tooth recently fell out. "Yes! Promise?"
"I promise," David says, ruffling his hair. "More than one, if I can manage it."
"Morrison! We need you now!" The trainer sounds more urgent.
David stands, pulls me close for a quick, hard kiss. "I love you," he whispers against my lips.
"I love you too," I reply, meaning it more than I ever thought possible a year ago. "Now go show them who you are."
With a final wink at Tyler, he puts on his helmet and jogs toward the field, where his teammates await. I watch him go, still amazed sometimes at how much has changed, how much we've all grown.
"Mrs. Morrison?" A security guard approaches us. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you to your seats."
I don't correct him about the "Mrs." part—not yet, anyway, though the ring hidden in David's sock drawer suggests that title might be accurate soon. Instead, I take Tyler's hand and follow the guard through a series of corridors and up an elevator to a private box overlooking the entire stadium.
The door opens to reveal the entire Morrison clan waiting for us. Michael has rented the entire suite just for family, sparing no expense as usual. Ethan, Jack and Michael are there, and so are their beautiful girlfriends. They all rise when we enter, greeting us with hugs and high-fives for Tyler.
"Aunt Mia!" Jack calls me by the nickname he started using months ago, embracing me warmly. "And there's the man of the hour," he adds, lifting Tyler up and spinning him around, making him shriek with laughter.
Ethan offers me a beer from the fully-stocked bar, which I decline in favor of water. His girlfriend compliments my dress. A team-colored number I bought specifically for today, while Michael's girlfriend helps Tyler to the buffet of snacks laid out along one wall.
