The contract sits on the table.
Three pages. Clean language. Start date: July 1.
It looks simple on paper. It feels like a tectonic shift in my chest.
I read it again.
Not looking for loopholes.
Looking at what they’re putting on the line.
Housing before I even sign. Budget carved out. Staff slots structured around a head coach who doesn’t technically exist yet.
This isn’t a list of expectations.
It’s buy-in.
They’re building a franchise.
And they’re building it around me.
My future. Right there in fourteen-point font.
"I'd like a few more days."
Nobody flinches.
The GM nods once. "Take the time you need. Walk the town. Sit with it. This isn't New York. It's not supposed to be. But it's real. And if that's what you're looking for, you'll know."
That's the thing about people who are building something real—they're not nervous about a man who takes decisions seriously.
Cam walks me out. Waits until the door closes behind us, until it's just the two of us in the corridor with the cold coming off the ice through the walls.
"You're signing."
"I know."
"Then what's the hold?"
I don't answer right away.
“Mrs. Henderson asked if I'm the kind of man who stays. I am. But staying only matters if I have someone…”
"I want to talk to her first."
Not because the decision depends on her answer. Not because I need permission. But because she's the person I want to tell before it exists anywhere outside my own certainty. Before it's official. Before it's real.
Cam looks at me for a moment.
Then he nods slowly.
"Bring her to Cedar Falls, West."
This time it's not a joke.
Back at the hotel.
I sit on the bed. Pull out my phone.
