I flip forward, fanning through the pages. The pool therapy with Brody interrupting. The plane ride where we argued about goalies versus captains. The supply closet.
“This is—” I can’t finish the sentence. My eyes are burning.
I keep flipping. Some of it I recognize. Some of it I don’t. Scenes that didn’t happen but could have. Should have. Moments that feel like wishes made real on the page.
“Roman did this?”
“He hired a writer,” Elliot admits. “Gave them detailed notes. I helped edit it. Got it printed. Goldie had a friend design the cover.”
“The cover photo is actually from a shoot Roman did,” Goldie adds. “We just edited it.”
I’m crying now. “Why?” I manage.
“Read the dedication,” Elliot says.
I flip to the front. There, on the dedication page in simple text:
For Marnie—You said ask you in a year.It’s been a year.
I drop the book onto my lap.
When I look up, Roman is standing in the doorway. Behind him I can see Dex and Brody, both grinning.
“You—” I can’t finish. “You wrote a book.”
“Technically, I hired someone to write it.” He moves closer. “But I gave them very detailed notes. Color-coded them, even.”
“You’re insane.”
“Probably.” He’s in front of me now. “But you said ask you in a year. It’s been a year, Marnie.”
“You remembered the date.”
“I’ve been counting down.” He drops to one knee and the room goes completely silent. “I love you. I love how you take no shit from anyone, including me. I love that you still wear the wind chime necklace every day. I love that you’re stronger than you think you are.”
He pulls out a small box.
“I love that you read terrible romance novels and that you made me read them too. I love that you threatened to bench my entire team. I love that you said yes to dinner even though you were terrified. I love every single thing about you, and I want to keep loving you for the rest of my life.”
He opens the box. “So I’m asking. Will you marry me?”
I’m crying too hard to speak. Just nod frantically, laughing through tears.
“I need actual words, Moxie. That’s kind of how proposals work.”
“Yes,” I manage. “Yes, you ridiculous man. Yes.”
He slides the ring on my finger, then stands and kisses me. I taste salt from my tears and feel his smile against my mouth.
The room erupts. The WAGs are crying and cheering. I can hear Dex’s whistle, and Rodriguez’s filming commentary.
When we finally pull apart, I’m laughing and crying and completely overwhelmed.
“You wrote a book,” I say again. “Our book. With creative liberties.”
“You love romance novels.” He shrugs like this is obvious. “And I wanted to give you a good story. Our story.”
“Can I read the rest of it?”
