I swear my heart stutters.
He gestures toward the boy beside him. “We’ve got a summer place about an hour from here. My kid missed the tournament last year. No way we could make that mistake two years in a row.” He laughs, squeezing his son’s shoulder.
“This is DJ,” he adds. “And I wanted to thank you. For earlier.”
DJ looks up at Colson, eyes wide. “Thanks, Colson! Can we get a picture before I leave?”
Before anyone can answer, he takes off toward his friends, already calling out, and Darren laughs, shaking his head.
Then he turns back to Colson, expression shifting slightly. Still friendly but a bit more focused.
“So,” Darren says, casual as anything. “Heard we’re meeting next week? I’d love to tell you about how the Wolves are making a real run at the championship next season.”
Colson’s mouth drops open.
“Yes, sir,” he manages. “I mean. Yes. And I want to make sure I give you the full story about everything that happened at my last game and—”
Darren lifts a hand, waving it off. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. I’m looking forward to hearing all about it next week.”
Then he glances around the court again, smiling. “But for now? Enjoy this.”
He reaches for my hand and says, “Great work on this. I heard this was your brain child. You should be proud.”
The kind words wash over me and it makes me feel like this is even more worth it. There’s something special about the opposing parents being thankful, even when they lost, for the opportunity. To build something that people look forward to.
“I appreciate that. Thanks for being part of it. Good luck next weekend.” I say.
He steps back, already turning away. “Colson, hope to see you in those Detroit City Blues next season. Talk soon.”
And then he’s gone. I stand there, stunned, my brain absolutely scrambling to catch up with reality.
Colson turns to me slowly. “Oh my god,” he gapes. “Did that just happen?”
I don’t even think before moving. I grab his face with both hands and kiss him—right there on the court, surrounded by kids still buzzing with adrenaline, parents snapping photos, someone yelling about medals andoranges and where the car is parked. I don’t care. I don’t care if anyone recognizes him. I don’t care aboutanythingexcept the way he freezes for half a second and then melts into me, hands finding my waist like that’s where they belong.
The kiss isn’t careful or quiet. It’s full and feels like summer magic.
When we pull back, he’s laughing under his breath, forehead pressed to mine, eyes shining.
“Everything okay, Coach?” I tease softly.
He exhales, shaking his head. “I’m so happy. With you. Here. All of it.”
I laugh, still holding his face. “So… does this mean I’m never going to see the famous Colson Burke scowl ever again?”
He grins and dips his head to brush his nose against mine. “Baby, I’ll scowl whenever you want.”
My heart feels so full it’s almost unbelievable. I lean in for one more kiss—slower this time, sweeter. He holds me tight to him and I catch a glimpse of the sun, the kind of blue sky you’d see on a postcard.
This doesn’t feel real. This level of happiness. The way Colson and I crossed paths, over pain and grief and tough pasts.
I know it won’t always be easy. Love like this never is. But wrapped in his arms, beneath a sky too blue to be anything but honest, I know one thing with absolute certainty…
If I’m the sun then Colson is my sunset.
The kind of ending you wait your whole life to find. And you know what? This was definitely worth the wait.
fifty-five
