I lean forward, elbows resting on my knees, as I speak softly. “I can’t help but look at my wife.”
A hue of pink blush blooms across her cheeks. She bites back a smile, turning to watch the slow, gliding movement of the whale shark as it drifts by the glass.
I let her have that moment before clearing my throat. It’s barely louder than the whirr of the tank’s filters, but she hears it, and her head tilts, those green eyes catching mine.
Fuck, I’m nervous.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this,” I start, shifting until I’m kneeling in front of her. My hand rests on her knee, my thumb sweeping over the seam of her leggings. “But I realized nothing I say is ever gonna be big enough, perfect enough… for you.”
Her lips part, and her eyes dart between mine, searching for where I’m heading with this.
I look up at the tall wall of water behind her, with the whale shark drifting, and I think—yep, this is exactly where I wanted it to happen.
“Amelia,” I say, my voice catching slightly. “When I met you, you were this—” I huff out a short laugh, “—defensive, stubborn, impossible-to-read woman who looked at me like I was either trouble or the punchline to a joke, and I couldn’tstop looking back. Every time you told me to back off, every time you rolled your eyes at me… I just knew. I knew you were it for me.”
She swallows hard, and I catch her fingers in mine, holding on and giving them a quick squeeze.
“You make me feel like a better man just by standing next to me. You keep me in check, but you also make me believe I can do anything other than football. I don’t care where we go, what we face, or how many times we piss each other off; there’s no one else I’d rather do life with.”
Her hand comes up to her mouth, stifling her gasp.
“And I don’t want another day to go by without you knowing that I’m yours. Completely. Forever.”
I pull the ring box out of my back pocket and flip it open to show the emerald-cut emerald. The deep green reflects the tank light—shades of forest and fire flickering across its facets as if made for her, because it was.
She gasps as her hand shoots to her chest, while the other trembles as she reaches for the box.
“Maverick…”
“I don’t want to fake this with you anymore, Amelia,” I say, my voice rougher now, the words coming straight from my chest. “This was never fake for me.”
Her eyes shimmer in the low light, tears gathering beneath her lower lashes and reflecting the shifting blue and silver from the tank behind her. She looks at me as if she’s about to say something, but her throat tightens.
“Maverick, I?—”
I shake my head and squeeze her hand just enough to make her stop. “Don’t say anything, dollface. Just… let me get this out.”
Her lips press together, trembling.
“I wanted you to have your dream ring,” I tell her,glancing at the emerald before looking back into those green eyes. “And I wanted you to know exactly how I feel. Even if you don’t love me—” my voice catches, but I push through it, “—I’ll wait for you. In every lifetime, Amelia, I’ll wait until you’re ready to open yourself up. Until you’re ready to be loved by someone who’s worthy of loving you.”
She releases a broken, muffled sob before shifting, wrapping her arms around me so tightly we nearly lose balance. I catch her, holding her close with one arm around her back and my other hand cupping the back of her head.
Her face is pressed against my neck, her trembling, warm breath on my skin. She doesn’t say a word, and I don’t need her to, not tonight.
Because something settles in my chest, as I hold her there with the glow of the whale shark tank wrapping us in blue light.
I love this woman, even if she never says it back or allows herself to believe it.
I’ll love her anyway.
Back in thisshit training facility, can’t I just go back to being with her without any fucking worries?
The mask straps press into my skin, airtight, with heavy tubing trailing back to the metabolic cart. Every breath I take hisses through the regulator, numbers flashing across the monitor Coach Mike is watching—oxygen consumption, carbon dioxide output, my heart rate climbing higher and higher.
The treadmill vibrates beneath my feet as the belt smoothly moves at the first stage.
“Alright, Hayes,” Coach snaps with his clipboard in hand. “We’re running a structured graded exercise protocol. Speed and incline increase every two minutes until you reach your target. I want your max heart rate, oxygen uptake, respiratory exchange ratio—the works. Got it?”
