Declan

One Year Later

It’s surreal. Standing here for the second year in a row, watching as the confetti floats down on the screaming stadium. Someone just dumped an entire cooler of Gatorade over Dad’s head on the sidelines. The whole thing is so intense. We were the underdogs when we won the big game last year. No one expected us to win. In some ways, it’s easier to go into a game where you’re expected to lose because you can only go up from there. The Philadelphia Kings do well when we’re the underdogs. In the locker room before last year’s big game, Dad called it fate.

Amor Fati.

We won that day.

I kept my promise to Sam Beneventi last year, and I bet he’s fucking ecstatic to see us do it again today.

Two days after the win, Belle and I closed on a house a few minutes away from my dad and Katherine’s. It’s a five bedroom and now has a fully finished basement with a home gym on one side and a dance studio area on the other. We also made sure it was soundproofed.

I got my tattoos a few days later. Everyone’s been talking about them this season. One bicep says “Amor Fati” with the Sinclair family crest beneath it. The other bicep has an olive branch wreath with “Memento Mori” written inside. I like to think fate brought me to Belle, and I want to cherish every fucking minute of the life we have because it can all end too soon.

Nothing’s promised. It’s earned.

“Declan. Declan.” One of the female sideline reporters grabs me. “How does it feel to win two championships in a row?”

“It feels amazing, Cindy.” I look around at the crowds starting to make their way onto the field.

“When you were first drafted to Philadelphia, there was a lot of talk about you playing for your dad and whether you earned your spot. What do you want to say to the people who questioned you now?” she asks as she shoves the microphone back in my face.

“I say, I hope they enjoyed the game.” I see Belle running toward me. “I’m sorry. I see my wife.”

Reporter forgotten, I open my arms as Belle walks into my embrace. She’s wearing a new Mrs. Sinclair hoodie since the one I gave her last Christmas had to be cut off when she was in the hospital. Her long hair is up in a ponytail. One hand is holding Tommy’s hand. He’s totally decked out in his Sinclair jersey and Kings hat with Rex clutched close to him in matching gear. Belle’s other arm is wrapped around the older of my two baby girls. Everly has on a mini-Sinclair jersey with black leggings covering her chunky legs, pinks socks, and a pink tutu because... well, that’s how my wife dresses the girls. Nattie is next to her, holding Gracie, who puts her arms out to me, immediately wanting her daddy.

Yeah. They’ve got me wrapped around every single one of their fat little fingers.

Gracie is younger by two minutes and much quieter than Everly. They’re like night and day—two gorgeous little baby girls with their momma’s emerald-green eyes and blonde Sinclair curls. Coop likes to joke and say they look more like him and Nattie than me, but I don’t care. As long as they look like Belle, I’m thrilled. The girls have special-ordered noise-canceling headphones on their little heads and are looking around with wide eyes at this spectacle.

Annabelle stretches up on her toes and kisses me. “Nice job, number thirteen. I got a little nervous for a hot minute there. Way to bring it home.” She leans into my ear and whispers, “You know what you get tonight?”

I wrap my hand around her neck and hold her face to mine. “What do I get tonight, baby?”

“Anything you want.” She bites my ear and smiles that smile I love more than life.

The guys walk out onto the field, offering their congratulations. My brother pounds my back. “Thanks for making it to the big game this year. It was really nice of you to play it in Cali this time.” He hugs me. “Seriously. Great game, man.” Cooper being stationed in California has been challenging. He just qualified for the SEALs and now has another year-plus of training to undergo.

The quarterback from the other team walks over to me. “Good game.” He shakes my hand. “You’re a lucky man, Sinclair.”

“Thanks.”

It’s nice to win.

It’s great to be able to play football professionally.

And he’s right, I am one of the lucky ones.

But what makes me truly fortunate is in my arms right now.

It’s the people who are standing here with us.

It’s my family.

It’s this woman whose love I’ll never take for granted.

Whose love I earned one inch at a time.

THE END