Murph climbed onto his chair to lead a toast, nearly knocking over three water glasses in the process. Tyler started a chant that the entire table picked up. Kowalski produced a flask from somewhere and insisted everyone take a celebratory sip. I still don’t know what vile concoction we drank.
Through it all, Erik sat at the center of the chaos with that same soft, wondering expression, as though he couldn’t quite believe his own happiness.
“Speech!” Murph demanded. “The groom-to-be must give a speech!”
“I’m not giving a speech.”
“Then at least tell us how you knew. How did you know she was the one?” I prompted, wondering if the question was more for him or for me.
The table quieted, everyone leaning in.
Even the guys who usually tuned out emotional conversations were paying attention.
Erik went quiet for a moment.
“I don’t know if there was one moment,” he said. “It was more like . . . a gradual realization. Every time something good happened, she was the first person I wanted to tell. Every time something bad happened, she was the one I wanted there to comfort me. I started planning my life around when I’d see her next, rearranging schedules or turning down plans with other people to spend more time with her.”
He paused, his eyes going distant.
“And then one day, I was sitting in my apartment alone, and I realized I’d rather be anywhere else as long as she was there. The apartment, the city, none of it mattered without her. She was home, and home was no longer a place; it was a person.”
No one moved.
For the first time in all my years on the team, no one spoke.
Not a single word.
Even Murph had nothing to say.
“That’s when I knew,” Erik continued. “When I stopped being able to imagine my future without her in it, when the thought of losing her scared me more than the thought of committing forever.” He smiled, small and private. “So I stopped fighting it. I let myself want what I wanted, and everything got really simple.”
Another eternal moment stretched.
Then one of the rookies seated at the far end starteda slow clap that built into applause.
Erik waved it off, embarrassed, but the smile never left his face.
I clapped along with everyone else, my hands moving automatically while my brain churned.
Every time something good happened, she was the first person I wanted to tell.
I thought about scoring goals and wanting to text Jacks.
I started planning my life around when I’d see her next.
I thought about asking Jacks to lunch before the road trip, about the disappointment when he’d talked me out of it for my own good.
She was home. Not a place—a person.
I thought about Barbacks, about the booth in the back corner, about the way everything felt easier and simpler and right when I was sitting across from Jacks with nothing but tacos between us and nowhere else to be.
The realization hit like a check I hadn’t seen coming.
No.
No, no, no!
This wasn’t—
