I glance around the circle again, making sure the words don’t just fall flat into the air.
“We’ve got too much talent on this field to waste time on my bullshit. I’m proud to play with every one of you.”
There are a few nods.
“We didn’t get this far to just show up. We’re gonna dominate this season.” I put on my helmet. “I promise each and every one of you that I will give you everything I have this season.”
Everyone claps, and a few hell yeah’s are heard.
“Let’s fucking go! Titans on three.” I clap my hands once.
“One…two…three. Titans!”
I mean every word I said. This is my team, my responsibility on this field. And we’re gonna win.
Once practice starts, I lock in.
First rep in the red zone. Snap, drop back, set my feet, deliver a perfect spiral.
Brody snags it clean in the back corner, then points at me. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
I don’t react, but I nod once.
And we run it again. And again. Each rep cleaner and sharper than the last.
Then movement behind them catches my eye.
At first, it barely registers.
Just another body near the sideline.
But then my brain connects the shape. The posture. The face.
Aaron.
He’s leaning against the fence with a clipboard tucked under one arm, talking casually to one of the assistants like he belongs here. Like he didn’t destroy years of my life with one lie.
My jaw tightens as I stare at him across the field.
All I can see is Sera’s face. Her tiny hand wrapped around my finger. The way she laughed the first time I lifted her onto my shoulders.
And then another image pushes in behind it. Every birthday I missed. Every scraped knee. Every bedtime story I should have been there for.
All the years I didn’t know she existed.
Because of him.
Something inside my chest twists hard.
“Let’s run it one more time,” I say, my eyes still locked on Aaron. “Brody, go left fade, on two.”
We line up, and I call out, “Blue eighty.”
I catch Aston’s eye and see him inching toward the left side of the field.
“Blue eighty.”
I give a subtle nod.
