The roar that followed felt different this time.
Meadow’s knees almost gave out. The kids grabbed her legs, still yelling, still jumping. She wiped her cheeks with the backof her hand, heart hammering and returned to their cheering section.
Down on the green, Zaire heard her. He heard everything ‘cause even surrounded by thousands of people, his ears and heart was synced with hers.
He heard his name. Full…whole…real.
He turned and found only one face.
Meadow stood at the edge of the stands, fingers wrapped around the rail, eyes on him like he was the only thing that existed in that stadium.
He started walking, purposefully with one destination…one person in mind.
He didn’t stop for the cameras…didn’t stop for the officials trying to hand him the trophy… Didn’t even stop for the sponsor representative in the blazer who reached out to shake his hand.
He moved straight by all of them, past the ropes, toward the people who’d been with him on days that didn’t involve cameras or record-breaking putts.
Lesha reached for him first, grabbing his face and kissing both his cheeks. “That’s my child. That’s my child right there!” she shouted, laughing through tears.
Ray slapped him on the back so hard it rattled his lungs. “You showed out, son. You showed out!”
Tia hugged his neck and cried into his shoulder while Blain rubbed his back. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered. “So damn proud.”
The kids screamed his name over and over. “Coach Z! Coach Z! Coach Z!”
Zaire’s chest broke open at the sight of them in those shirts that read GREEN DRIVING RANGE across the front as if this whole world didn’t think their little patch of land mattered.
But he only pulled one person all the way in.
Meadow tried to reach for his hand and ended up swept off her feet, literally. He grabbed her around the waist, lifted her against his chest, and spun her around on the edge of the green. She laughed through tears, hands locked around his neck, their foreheads pressed together because they always wanted to be in each other’s skin.
“You did it,” she smiled, voice shaking. “Zaire, you did it.”
He felt his own eyes sting. “WE did it,” he corrected. “You stood ten toes down with me. You and this whole village. I ain’t never had that.”
Her lips trembled. “I love you.”
He nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. I feel it every day.”
Behind them, the crowd roared like they were witnessing history, because they were.
And then Meadow remembered…
She reached into her tote bag, hands shaking, and pulled out the blue L.A. fitted. The one she’d tucked into her purse “just in case,” even though she never said why. Even though he hadn’t worn it since the day everything went left.
She held it up, voice cracking as she whispered, “Baby…here.”
Zaire froze and the world went quiet.
He stared at the hat the way a man stared at something that once hurt him but never stopped belonging to him. When he took it, his fingers trembled just a little. Meadow saw it…felt it…loved him harder for it.
He lifted his chin, and slid the hat on with a slow, deliberate pull.
The crowd erupted.
But Zaire didn’t look at them.
He looked ather.He looked at herlike she had just returned something to him, he didn’t know he needed back.
