Epilogue 2: Maddox

Pride fills my chest as I look down at the field.

As Chelsea predicted, Max got drafted by the Minnesota Biters, and today is his first pro ball game.

Hannah comes to stand on my right, at the front of the private suite we're watching the game from. "Nervous?"

I drape my arm over her shoulders and pull her into my side. "Nah. He's not starting, so he probably won't play."

She rests her head against my chest. "I'm proud of him too."

I tighten my hold on her.

It's September. Just over a year since we found each other again, and my love for this woman has only grown.

I lift my left hand and wiggle my fingers, watching the light glint off the silver band on my third finger.

After I proposed, we started looking at wedding venues. But when I realized how far out they were booking, I told Hannah I couldn't wait anymore. So we went to the courthouse. And with Ruth, Chelsea, Max, Waller, and my parents in tow, we got married.

Tony comes up from behind me and slaps my hand down. "How about you stop reminding me that you didn't invite me to your wedding."

I roll my eyes. "I've told you a thousand times, you didn't answer your phone. But you're already invited to the reception we're planning next summer."

He scoffs. "I'm no horologist, but aren't weddings and receptions at the same time, not a year something apart?"

I slowly turn my head to face him. "A horologist?"

Waller comes up behind us. "Why are we talking about the study of time?"

I stare at my friends, wondering why I like them.

"Down in front!" Chelsea pushes her way past Waller to stand next to Tony. "Chivalry is dead."

Waller clutches his chest. "You wound me."

"Uh-huh." The teen ignores him, used to his bullshit by now.

We stay where we are, standing together as a group, my parents somewhere nearby, as the game starts.

We start on defense, and I can't help but watch how the tackles handle themselves.

The Biters have been building a team for years, getting better the longer they play together.

It's a good news, bad news thing for Max.

Good news is he's on a team with a winning trajectory.

Bad news because unless something happens to the starting quarterback, he won't get field time.

The other team doesn't score, and now it's our turn at offense.

The return on the kick is good, and the Biters line up for their first down at a decent yard line.

The ball is snapped. The quarterback is looking. And a defensive tackle slips through the line.

From above, we watch it happen.

The hit.

The bodies going down.

The arm bending the wrong way.

Our starting quarterback is hurt.

He's out.

And Max is in.