Page 85 of Learn the Play
“You know you’re going to get fined for today.” His tone is neutral, not menacing as it was when I walked out of the locker room earlier.
“Yep. Don’t care,” I say, holding his gaze. “There’s nothing on this earth that would keep me from them when they need me like this. I’ll take the fine, the suspension, break my contract…. Whatever the outcome may be, I’ll take it without a fight.” I turn my eyes back to Bellamy. “The only fighting I’ll do is for my family. For my girls.”
We’re both quiet after that. He takes the chair on the opposite side of the bed and just watches her sleep. Her breathing is deep and even, and the baby’s heartbeat on the screen is strong. It’s my constant reminder that they’re really okay.
“I didn’t fight for them,” Coach says, his voice a gruff whisper. “I wanted to, but I didn’t, and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret it.” He pauses, and I remain quiet, letting him process his thoughts. “I wanted to make something for myself, but for them, too. I wanted to give them everything, and in turn, I lost my way. Candice and I tried, but in the end, we both formed a life without the other, and we couldn’t findour way back. Bellamy got caught in the middle, and I took the coward's way out. When she refused to see me, I told Candice not to force her. I didn’t want to cause her any more pain, because her pain sliced through me like a knife.”
Reaching out, he tugs up her blanket, even though it doesn’t need it. “One weekend bled into two, into weeks, months, and then years. I missed so much because I didn’t want to fight, worried it would hurt her even more, but I was wrong.” His voice cracks. “I was so fucking wrong. I should have made her come to her scheduled visits. I could have shown her that she was my world, even if I struggled with how to communicate that. Instead, I let her run, and I lost my little girl.”
“She’s still that same little girl at heart,” I remind him. “Show her now. It’s never too late to fight for what you want.”
“Like you? You fought for her, and here you are, knowing your career could be in jeopardy. Your team needs you, but you’re here.”
“I love the Rampage. I love the guys—they’re family—but these two”—I nod toward the bed—“they’re my heart. My entire world. Nothing compares to that.”
“I want to get to know her. I want to be a part of her life, of my grandchild’s life.”
“You think you can learn the play, Coach?” I tease. I can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. He’s going to fight now, just as he should have then.
He chuckles, and another lull of silence passes between us. “Thank you for loving her. For showing her what that looks like when I never did,” he says quietly.
“I’m going to marry her,” I tell him. I’m not asking for permission because I don’t need it. The only permission I need is hers. “Loving her is easier than breathing,” I admit, just as her eyes flutter open. Her gaze lands on me, and she smiles.
“I love you,” she murmurs. “Thank you for coming to me when I needed you.”
“Never thank me for loving you, Bell,” I say, standing. Not giving a single fuck that her dad’s in the room, I place a soft kiss against her lips. “I love you, too, Bell. You have a visitor. In fact, you’ve had several, but this one, he’s special,” I tell her. It’s more for Coach than my girl. He’s a broken man who thought he was doing the right thing. I get that, and I hope that the two of them can form the relationship they were always supposed to have.
Turning her head, she sees her dad and gasps. “Dad?”
“Hey, Bella. How are you feeling?” His voice is soft and gentle.
“I’m okay. We’re okay,” she says, her hands moving to her belly. “What are you doing here?”
“As soon as the whistle blew, I think half the team ran for the hospital.”
“Did you win?” she asks him, but looks at me.
“I don’t know, baby, I didn’t ask.”
“Reid! You need to know if you’re going to play for the league championship. This is huge. How could you not ask?”
I laugh because when I first met her, she wouldn’t have given a single thought to my career or the game of football. Now that she’s invested, she watches all my games and supports me without a thought.
“We won,” Coach tells her.
“Really?” Her eyes light up.
Coach nods, swallowing hard at her honest, elated reaction. “Can I get you anything?” he asks. There’s a knock at the door, and Dr. Jones steps in.
“Bellamy, I have your bloodwork results. Is it okay to speak freely, or would you like for your guests to step out of the room?”
“This is my boyfriend, Reid, and that’s my dad. You can tell us.”
Coach’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t say a word.
“Right, well, your bloodwork shows that you’re severely anemic. All of your symptoms check out, and that’s what caused you to faint.”
“How do we treat that? Are she and our daughter in danger?” I ask.
