“We have?” He looks equal parts confused and worried as the man whore racks his brain trying to figure out if he’s had any sexual encounters with Freya. It’s quite amusing to watch.
“At The Oakwood Primary school fair.” She smiles sweetly. “You hit on me by the mulled wine.” She teases.
“Badly.” Hannah adds with a smirk.
Scott laughs, his face turning slightly pink. “I like her.”
“Good,” I mutter. “Because she’s not going anywhere.”
His expression shifts slightly at that, something approving passing through it before he nods toward the small boy beside him.
“This is Elliot,” he says. “My son.”
The boy looks up, shy but curious. Theo immediately steps forward.
“Do you like football?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on then.”
Just like that, Theo, Isla, and Elliot disappear into their own little world, already running ahead, their voices blending into the noise around us. Scott watches them for a second, then glances back at Hannah.
“You always this opinionated or just when you’re watching rugby?” he asks casually.
Hannah folds her arms. “Only when I’m surrounded by overpaid men throwing themselves at each other.”
Scott grins. “You’re going to love me then.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Doubtful.”
“Give it time.”
Freya leans slightly into me, her shoulder brushing mine. “This is… a lot,” she says quietly.
I glance down at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she nods, looking out over the pitch, the crowd building, the noise rising. “Just… this is your world.”
“It is.”
She looks back at me. “And now I’m in it.”
I don’t hesitate. “Yeah,” I say. “You are.”
The announcer’s voice cuts through the stadium, the crowd responding instantly, the energy shifting up another level. It’s time. I glance down at her one more time, then at the kids in the distance, then back at her.
“I’ll see you after,” I say.
“You better,” she replies.
I lean in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips again. Then I turn and head back toward the tunnel. The noise builds. The lights feel brighter. Everything sharpens. But this time, as I step out onto that pitch, it’s not just about the game. It’s about who’s watching. And for the first time… That feels like everything.
Chapter sixty-six
Freya
I don’t think I’ve ever noticed a crowd like this before. Not really. Not in the way I am now. Because I’ve been to Rory’s games, I’ve sat in stands just like this, watched him run out onto the pitch with that same focused expression, that same quiet intensity, and I’ve always thought it was impressive, always felt that flicker of pride knowing I knew him beyond this version of him that everyone else sees. But this feels different. Closer to something that matters in a way I can’t quite explain.
