“Why are you smiling?” I ask.
“I’m not.”
“It’s a half-smile.”
“You being worried about me is all. It just feels nice.”
“Of course I care, Bryant. As a matter of fact, I more than care.”
“Yeah? You saying you love me, Coach?”
I lean across the middle of the car. He meets me there with a smirk on his face and then presses his lips to mine.
“I love you to the moon and back, Quarterback.”
— Epilogue —
Bryant
WHEN I ASKED ZHANNA to marry me again it was our fourteenth date. I lit a fire at Hale’s Row and got down on one knee. It was across from a huge bonfire that I first saw the woman of my dreams. I knew the minute I saw her sitting on the back of a tailgate sipping beer out of a red solo cup that she was the one. And when she called me a chicken shit while giving me the best advice I’ve ever received, I had to have more. She was a football princess made to be my football queen.
As I stand at the makeshift altar in the middle of a field at Hale’s Row, I look over to the officiant, Leslie, and silently thank him for all the times he’s had my back and pushed Zhanna and I together. There was never a question of who would marry us. We both agreed that it should be our friend and cheerleader from the very beginning, and he gladly accepted the honor, wasting no time in becoming ordained online.
Zina walks down the aisle in a hunter green floor-length gown with lace arms. Her blonde hair is up in a complicated style, and her blue eyes shine with joyful tears. She carries a bouquet of white lilies with her as she walks toward me and my best man, Ben. I wish Zina and Ben would follow our example and reunite. I miss the foursome we were.
The carriage and horse I hired brings Zhanna from the cabin just atop a hill that leads to our location. As I look across the wide open land, a bittersweet feeling overtakes me as I watch the candles flickering in the four empty chairs we left at the front. There’s a candle for my dad, her dad, Grandma Rose, and Phillip. We felt Rose and Phillip helped us fall in love, and we wanted to honor their contribution.
When the horse stops the carriage at the end of the aisle, Otto waits to open the door and help Zhanna step down. And my future wife steps onto the aisle in a boho, ivory, lace dress with bell sleeves and a flowy skirt. Her blond hair is curled and her makeup is perfect. In her hands is a bouquet of lilies and orchids. She’s gorgeous.
Otto walks her down the aisle to me and with her mom, they give her away to me.
“Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Bryant and Zhanna,” Leslie starts as Zhanna and I turn to hold hands and face each other.
I miss most of what he says until I’m to repeat after him. I’m so lost in her that it’s hard to breathe. The ceremony goes by as I stare in her eyes and remember all the things it took to get us here today. There was a lot of pain, most of it caused by me, but in the end, we came out stronger and better for everything we’ve gone through. I couldn’t ask for a better woman. I couldn’t ask for a better wife, and I’m beyond grateful for her.
Zhanna and I still have moments where we struggle. Sometimes, she’s insecure, and I do my best to reassure her that she’s the only woman I’m remotely interested in. Trust isn’t so easily earned back when it’s shattered to a million pieces, but I often put myself in her shoes and know she handles the hard days better than I would if the roles were reversed. With the help of continued counseling, we’ve learned to communicate, not just on the easy days, but on the hard ones too. It’s made us a stronger couple than we were before the divorce. I think it’s taught us to be grateful for each other each and every day. For my part, I’ve learned to tell her everything and by involving her in all of my decisions, I ensure we’re always a team.
For her part, Zhanna is no longer a runner. When she’s feeling insecure or having a hard time trusting, she asks questions and I do my best to reassure her. She’s really embraced the open communication we’ve established.
“You may kiss the bride, Suga,” Leslie says and I snap to it.
I smirk at Zhanna, and she grins back. It’s time to show anyone who’s watching what Zhanna and Bryant Hudson are about. I pull her to me, press my lips to hers, and kiss her softly. Then I press my hand between her shoulders and dip her back as I kiss the hell out of her. The guests cheer me on, so I go for it. Zhanna breaks the kiss by laughing at me and the crowd, so I stand her up and put her to rights. There’ll be plenty of time to kiss my wife, although I’m quite impatient to be inside her again as her husband.
Leslie turns us to the crowd and introduces us. “I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Bryant Hudson.”
We walk down the aisle to congratulatory cheers and hugs. And then we wait by the horse and carriage on Ben and Zina.
I kiss my wife again. “I love you, Coach.”
“I love you too, Quarterback.”
Beside the altar and ceremony area is a huge tent ready for a party, and we do just that. We eat, drink, and dance. By midnight Zhanna is dead on her feet and holding her lower back like it’s killing her. I speed the goodbyes along and get my baby out of there.
Tonight, we’ll stay at the new cabin we had built at Hale’s Row. It’s much bigger than the smaller cabin we’ve spent years in. It’ll allow us to grow and all be here at once. We spend a lot of time here in the offseason, but we’re still in the Quarter at the house Leslie renovated within an inch of its life for us. Plus, I spent a mint on a giant fucking tree for Punter. Zhanna has gotten accustomed to its large, looming presence.
“I have a wedding present for you,” she says as we pull up to the new cabin in the horse and carriage.
“I have one for you as well,” I say and waggle my brows.
