The noise from the stadium drifts in the suite’s open door—cheers, the crack of a bat, laughter. Life moving on.
I stand, suddenly needing air. Maybe a drink. Maybe … him.
When I step outside of the room, the afternoon sun hits my face, warm and grounding. The guys are all lined up along the front row of the suite, beers in hand, teasing each other over whose losing money on a bet. Walker’s at the end, his cap pulled low, a quiet smile curving his mouth as he listens.
For a second, I just watch him. The man who’s carried so much guilt but who still managed to show up for me, for Eli. ThenI make my way over, heart pounding in a steady, uncertain rhythm.
He looks over at me as I stand beside him, surprise flicking across his face before it softens into something I can’t quite name.
“Hey,” I say, reaching for one of the drinks on the ledge.
He wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Hey, you. I was just about to come in and check on Eli. Does Eva have her?”
“No.” I take a sip of the beer. “I fed her. She’s sleeping in her crib.”
“Jessie, you didn’t have to—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“What did I tell you about this shit, Walker?”
He chuckles and adjusts his hat with his other hand. “Right. Sorry. My bad.”
“Thanks for doing this.” I look up at his dark, watchful eyes. “You didn’t have to go all out for me.”
“I didn’t do it to go all out. I did it because seeing you smile again … that’s all I want. I’d rent out the whole damn stadium if it meant you’d look at me like this.”
My heart stutters, and I swallow past the lump in my throat. The noise of the crowd fades until it’s just his voice and the steady thrum of my pulse in my ears.
“Walker,” I whisper, shaking my head, “you can’t say things like that to me. I’m still trying to find my footing, and if you keep talking like that … I’ll forget I’m supposed to need time.”
Something shifts in his expression—soft, sad, determined.
He leans forward, voice barely carrying above the hum of the stadium. “Then take all the time you need, Jess. I’ll wait. A lifetime, eternity—whatever it takes. I’m not going anywhere.”
He doesn’t realize how much I needed to hear that. Just to know I don’t have to rush through this cloud of emotions, and yet I won’t lose him in the process.
The crowd roars, and we both turn our attention to the game. Eva and Kylie come out after they have the kids asleep and each find their man in the line. Walker doesn’t leave my side the rest of the game, but he keeps it light.
We all laugh. We eat. We cheer.
It’s everything I needed. And he did it all for me.
When the game ends, we say our goodbyes. Walker clicks Eli’s car seat into place, and I lift myself up into the front seat of his SUV.
I begin to wonder if he’s going to drop me off at my place. It sounds awful, but I don’t want to be alone right now. Eventually, I know I need to face the noise in my head. I’m just not ready.
He grabs my hand that’s resting on his center console. “You want to come over for dinner?”
I let out the breath I didn’t know I had been holding. “I’d love to. Thank you.”
I’m so grateful that he’s willing to be patient with me—to give me time to untangle everything inside of me. He really is an incredible man. After years of carrying this secret, trying to protect me, taking the blame I threw at him, and letting me push him away when I didn’t understand … he still showed up. Healways does. And now, he’s here again—arms open, waiting for when I’m ready.
When we get back to his place, he turns music on in the background and pours us each a glass of wine. We sit out on his terrace while Eli takes her nap in the stroller, our food on its way.
For the first time in what feels like forever, the silence between us isn’t heavy. It’s easy. Comfortable. The kind that says everything words can’t.
I glance over at him—this man who’s carried so much guilt, who tried so hard to do right by everyone, even when it cost him. I used to see his distance as indifference. Now, I see it for what it was. Love. Protection. The kind of love that doesn’t beg to be seen, but stands steady when the world falls apart.
He catches me looking and gives me that small, knowing smile that still manages to undo me. And in that moment, I know. We’ll be okay. It’ll take time—healing always does—but we’ll get there.
