Chapter 49 Desiree Dixon

We’ll Know a Year From Now

I head out to my car and sit in the driver’s seat for a minute knowing full well it's too dangerous to make this call inside the house. While I know they respect me and my privacy, I also know they want answers that I'm not ready to give them yet.

I dial his number, and he's quick to answer.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” I blow out a breath.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Did you have a good Christmas?”

“I did. But I also kept thinking how different next year's Christmas will look. And I kept wishing you were with me today.”

“So did I, and I have to tell you something.” I pause and wait for him to ask me what before I continue. “My dad and I always share eggnog with brandy the night of Christmas. It's been a tradition since before my twenty-first birthday. Anyway, tonight when he pushed the glass over to me, I couldn't take it, and, well, my mom put two and two together.”

“You told them?” He sounds surprised, but there’s a hint of excitement there, as if he’s ready for the world to know we’re together—including my parents.

“I admitted to what but not to who. I couldn't blindside you like that, not when we agreed it's not the right time.”

He’s quiet, and then he says, “I gotta admit, Des, I think we should tell them. We're going to have to tell him eventually, so let's get it over with instead of having it hanging over us.”

“No.” My voice is firm. “I get it, Asher, and I would've loved to have spent today with you too. But it's just another month and a half until the season is over.”

“I guess,” he says quietly, and I get the sense he's holding something back.

He’ll say it when the time is right.

I hope.

He has practice and an away game, so our conversations over the next few days are brief. I can’t seem to find a house I want to buy, but I look at a few with my mom and her realtor.

The Aces lose to the Eagles in Philadelphia the next weekend, and I can’t help but think it’s because my dad is off his game. I know I can’t blame myself for a team effort, but the last game of the regular season is at home next weekend, and the Aces have already secured their spot in the playoffs, so Asher is taking it easy since he won’t have as much playing time to make sure he’s ready for the upcoming games that matter.

New Year’s Eve is on a Tuesday night, and since neither one of us is able to be with the other at home, Asher gets a hotel room for the two of us.

I don’t tell my parents where I’m going, but I do tell them I won’t be home until morning. They shoot each other a look that tells me they have an idea of who I might be meeting up with, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they sent someone after me to snoop and figure out who the father is.

My mom has asked me a couple times who he is, and I’ve remained silent—but it’s been hard.

Before our night together, he sends me a text.

Asher: First food that comes to mind when you read this text.

Me: Mac and cheese and pizza. Sorry, can't pick one.

He texts me where to meet him along with the digital room key and room number, and I head to the hotel with my overnight bag.

This is the first time I've ever been in Vegas and gotten to spend the night with him. We only had a few nights together at my apartment in San Diego, and I’m excited that I get the whole night without having to leave early to get home so my parents won't question where I was.

And maybe they’ll question me anyway, but it's New Year's Eve. For all they know, I'm going out with a group of friends and staying out all night.

When I walk into the suite he booked for us, I see that he thought of everything. Two champagne flutes sit on the table beside a bottle of sparkling cider. Pizza and mac and cheese are waiting for me on the table, and there's even little confetti party poppers and silly hats for us to put on as we bring in the new year. I chose a dress with fireworks on it, and it's the perfect complement to his hot pink button-down shirt with Happy New Year written all over it.

He pulls me into his arms and holds me for a few seconds before he presses his lips to mine. “I missed you,” he says. He leans his forehead to mine.

“I missed you too.” Life feels a little empty without him around, and it feels so much fuller when we're together.

I think I realized it on Christmas when he told me he was thinking about how different it would've been if we’d spent the day together. By all accounts, his brothers are a lot of fun, and his mom's a sweetheart. I've heard mixed reviews about his dad, so I already know I'll be tiptoeing around him when we eventually meet, but he's told me stories about his sisters-in-law, and I can imagine growing closer with them as the two of us start our own family together. I’ve always wanted a sister, and I can’t wait for the day when I fit into his family and have three of them.

It sounds so magical, and I wish it felt more within reach than it does.

He tips the bottle of sparkling cider over the two flutes and hands me one. “To all the memories of this past year and all of the joys in the one ahead.”

My eyes fill with tears as I reminisce on the past year. The first six months of it, I didn't even know who this man was apart from watching him during football games, and then, like a whirlwind, June and the second half of the year were filled with him.

The second half of the year was filled with falling in love, getting my heart broken, and him mending it back together. And now, as I grow this baby, it's filled with thoughts of the future and how no matter what happens, our lives are about to change.

It's a scary thought, but it's also starting to sink in. It's starting to feel exciting and right. And it's as if he can read my thoughts as he asks, “How different will our lives be one year from now?”

“Some things will change, but I think some things might not.”

“What won't change?”

The more I think about it, the less of an answer I have for that question. His third year on his contract is up in a month and a half, so his future with the game is unknown. We’ll have a baby. My parents will know who the father is. I'll be part of the Nash family—not in name, obviously, since it's not like he's proposed marriage and we're not there yet even though we're having a baby together, but the child we share will have his last name and the child will be half me.

I guess I can't define that yet…but we’ll know a year from now.