Whistle. Arms up. Officials pointing down.
Try.
I lay on the turf, gulping for air that barely existed, heart hammering so hard, it might burst straight through my chest. The stadium lost its mind. Murphy crashed down beside me, laughing, swearing, slapping my helmet.
“You mad bastard, Wells! You beautiful, stubborn bastard!”
Our teammates hauled us both up, swarming around us. They were all yelling my name, and I raised my heavy, shaking arms in victory.
I finally looked up at the stands, finding them instantly.
Mazzy had her hands cupped around her mouth, cheering for me. Katty was on Nate’s shoulders, her tiny face red and wild as she clapped. My brothers were hugging each other, hugging Mazzy, screaming for me and my team. Bea was waving her arms overhead, and even Sal was there, clapping for us in his own subdued manner.
It waseverything.
We eventually trudged off the field, Murphy’s arm over my shoulders, his weight almost pulling me down. I wasn’t the only one who was tired.
“Next stop, championship,” he said.
I shook my head. “You guys. Might not be me.”
He ground to a stop, keeping me with him. “What’s that mean?”
I shoved my fingers through my dripping hair, dropping my head back to sigh. “Means this is all on you. I might not be making it to New England. I’m needed at home.”
He looked at me like I’d grown three heads. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Not kidding.”
When I’d promised to be there for Kat’s surgery months ago, I never dreamed we’d make it all the way to the championship. We’d never even made it past the semis. Yet, here we were. Part of me was fucking gutted there was a good chance I wouldn’t be there for the final match, but I had no intention of changing my mind.
Neither Mazzy nor Kat would be going through this alone.
Murphy shook his head. “Christ, man. Gotta be something important if you’re willing to miss the championship.”
I didn’t even have to think about it.
“The most important.”
This sucked.
Sucked so bad, I would have given up my left nut to be anywhere else. But Katty wasn’t scared, and Mazzy was keeping it together, so I had no choice but to be brave and act like I wasn’t seconds away from falling apart.
How had Mazzy survived this when Katty was only a baby? She’d already gone through this twice with only her dad to support her. It was supposed to be different this time. We were supposed to lean on each other. But I was a crumpling mess inside. Any minute, Katty’s doctor was going to come into this little hospital room to take her away for surgery.
And I was just supposed to let it happen?
The minutes stretched out like hours, every tick of the clock a hammer to my skull. Somewhere across the country, my team was arriving in the city where our final match would be held tomorrow…and here I was, sitting on a stiff hospital bed with cartoon decals on the wall, trying not to spiral while my daughter watched videos on my phone.
When Mazzy realized Kat’s surgery would fall on the day before the final match, she’d tried to reschedule, and we could have. In six months. Too long to wait when it came to our daughter’s eyesight. Mazzy had tried to get me to go anyway. But I had to be here, not just for her and Kat, but for me. This was my job, and nothing was more important than being Kat’s dad.
I’d made the right choice. I’d make it again and again if I had to. If things went well, if I felt comfortable enough leaving after the surgery, I would. But the only promises I’d made were to Mazzy and my daughter.
The selfish part of me, still new to this dad thing, wished I could bolt—run far and fast until I couldn’t feel this…burning fear.
A gentle knock sounded, and a nurse stepped in, carrying a folded set of blue scrubs and a matching cap. Her smile was kind, practiced. The kind that said she did this dance with terrified parents all day long.
“All right, parents,” she chirped. “Who’s going to accompany Kateryna into the operating room until she goes to sleep?”
