Page 152 of Through the Storm

“I’m only wearing leggings because I can’t fit in anything else,” I mumble.

“You look great in them. And give yourself some grace, you literally just had a giant baby.”

Caroline appears in the doorway with Grandma Patty, both ofthem already dressed like it’s the Super Bowl.

“Aww! He’s going to cry when he sees all of you,” Ella announces. “I give it five minutes.”

“He will not,” I say immediately.

Grandma Patty hums thoughtfully. “Men cry when they see their families. It’s healthy.”

“Four minutes,” Ella amends.

I laugh despite myself and look back at the mirror. For a second, I barely recognize the girl looking back at me. She’s tired and a little soft in some places. She’s still learning how to exist in this new version of her body, her life, her heart.

But she’s happy. Very, very happy.

And brave enough, apparently, to take a baby to a football game.

Which sounds a little crazy when I think too hard about it.

The stadium hits me all at once the second we walk inside. I’m suddenly hyperaware of the noise, the lights, and the amount of people here.

I instinctively curl around my baby, one hand resting protectively against his back while my brain tries to track everything at once.

“We can go up to the suite if it gets too loud,” Ella says gently.

I nod. “I know.”

Ben insisted we have one tonight. Between the baby and the fact that apparently starting quarterbacks get special treatment, the athletic department practically forced it on us.

But I wanted to try the family section in the stands first, so Ben could try to spot us from the field.

Mini-Ben squirms slightly but settles again, his tiny head tucked against me.

“Okay,” I whisper. “We’re doing great.”

Ella leans over. “Yes, you’re doing great. But remember, there’s no shame in going to the suite. The food’s better there, anyway.”

The stadium suddenly erupts. The team is running out, and the roar of the crowd rolls through the stands like thunder.

I don’t even have to search for Ben. I just feel him. That strange pull that’s been there since the beginning, like some invisible thread running straight across the field.

Ella nudges me and points. “There.”

I see him then.

With his helmet on, and his shoulders squared. He’s moving across the field with the easy power and confidence that still takes my breath away.

He looks completely in his element. Focused and in charge. Like this whole place belongs to him. For a moment I just watch him, my chest tight.

Then he looks up. It takes him a second to find us in the crowd. But when he does, everything about him changes. The hard game face softens, his shoulders relax, and his whole expression shifts into something warmer, something that only belongs to us.

I lift my hand in a small wave.

He lifts his back. Even from across the field I can see the grin tugging at his mouth. My heart squeezes in the best way.

Ella leans closer to the baby. “Your dad’s gone, kid. Totally gone.”