parents had gone better than I’d expected. Watching Eva and my mom hit it off was like watching a scene from a feel-good movie. As I park at the stadium, a sense of satisfaction fills me. It’s short-lived, though, as I check my phone and see a text from my dad. He wants to talk. Alone. I know this calm is just the eye of the storm.

Taking a deep breath, I dial his number. “Father?”

“Son, I have to admit, your wife is quite adorable,” he starts, and I can almost hear the “but” hanging in the air.

I frown, bracing myself. “Thanks, Dad. I think so too.”

“I am wondering… In your hasty marriage, did you think about getting a prenup signed?” There it is, the “but” I was waiting for.

I let out a sigh of frustration and resignation. “Here we go… No, we both know I didn’t.”

He’s silent for a moment, and I can almost picture him nodding solemnly. “Would she be willing to sign one now? I incidentally had one drafted.”

Incidentally, I snort internally.

Knowing Eva, she’d sign anything if she thought it would make things easier. But the thought of asking her to sign a prenup, especially now, sits like a stone in my stomach. “Knowing her, she would. Absolutely.” But I don’t want her to.

“Marvelous! I’ll get everything ready.”

“Yeah, and you know what we’ll do, Dad? Give me the one you signed with Mom, and we’ll copy it word for word. Deal?” The silence that follows is palpable. “Oh, wait… You don’t have one with Mom, do you?”

There’s a pause, and I can tell he’s weighing his words. “That’s different.”

I can’t help the bitterness that seeps into my tone. “How is that different, Dad? Mom wasn’t from a wealthy family, just like Eva. So how is that different? Is it because you knew Mom was the one?”

His voice is firmer now, a note of finality in it. “Cole, you know it’s not about that. It’s about protecting what we’ve built.”

I shake my head, though he can’t see me. “I’m not doing that to Eva. I won’t make her feel like she’s another business transaction.”

“Be reasonable.”

“Dad, I’m being more than reasonable. I’m being fair. I won’t ask her to sign a prenup. That’s final.”

The line goes quiet, and I know he’s displeased. But this is one area where I refuse to budge. She’s not a clause in a contract. She’s my wife, and I intend to treat her as such.

“Fine,” he finally says. “But be careful. Love doesn’t always last.”

His words hang heavy in the air as we end the call. I lean back in my seat, feeling defiance and unease. Love may not always last, but I’m determined to prove that ours will. We’re in this for the long haul. No prenups, no doubts. Just us, facing whatever comes our way together.

Exiting the car, I brace myself for the team meeting. The moment I step into the room, all chatter ceases, and the atmosphere turns eerily quiet.

“Hi?” I venture, breaking the silence.

“You’re married?” Peters blurts out, his tone a mix of disbelief and curiosity. I notice Ethan and Liam, both of them hanging on to my response.

I nod, confirming their unspoken question. Instantly, the room erupts into cheers and laughter, the tension evaporating.

“Westbrook’s married,” Peters exclaims, almost in awe. “Fuck me!”

Ethan and Liam move closer to me, their expressions full of astonishment and amusement. “How?” I ask.

“Poppy,” he explains. “I thought I was alone, but Peters was around. By the time I walked out, they all knew.”

Peters grins at me, but I narrow my eyes at him. I wasn’t planning on keeping it a secret, but I also didn’t want to scare her off. I’ve been considering wearing a wedding band, but I want to be cautious about how much I push.

“That was your plan in Vegas?” Ethan hisses, a hint of betrayal in his voice. “That’s what I helped you with? Tricking a girl into marriage?”

I hold up a hand, needing to set the record straight. “It wasn’t a trick. It was spontaneous. And yes, it’s unconventional, but it wasn’t a scheme.”

Ethan’s frown deepens, but Liam claps a hand on my shoulder. “Your impulsivity strikes again. Married in Vegas, huh? That’s one for the books.”

I can’t help but smile despite the seriousness of the situation. “Yeah, it was… unplanned. But it’s not something I regret.”

Ethan, standing nearby, looks at me with disbelief and concern. “Spontaneous is one word for it. I hope you know what you’re doing, man.”

I’ve never been more sure. I’ve been sure about Eva since I saw her the first time. It wasn’t during senior year. No, I noticed her during the summer session as she sat in the stands waiting for her father, lost in her book.

My heart jumped in a way it’s never done before and still only does when she is around. She is the one. I meet his gaze squarely. “I do. It might seem crazy, but with her, it feels right. You know how it is, right? When you just… know.”

Ethan’s expression softens, but he still looks skeptical. “I get it, but marriage is a big step.”

I laugh. “I see the way you look at Curly—don’t tell me that marrying her didn’t cross your mind.”

Ethan’s face reddens, and he shrugs. “Maybe I am considering it, but definitely not before graduation.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Really? Man, I didn’t know you were thinking about that already. I was just baiting you.”

Ethan runs a hand through his hair, looking slightly embarrassed. “Yeah, well, it’s not something I’ve talked about much. But with you jumping into marriage headfirst, it’s got me thinking.”

Liam nods approvingly. “Good for you, man. But remember, no Vegas weddings for you two.”

We all laugh, the tension easing. As the room empties out, I realize that despite the initial shock, my friends are supportive. They might not understand my impulsive decision, but they’re standing by me. That means more than they know.

“Yeah, no Vegas for me,” Ethan agrees, grinning. “I’ll leave the spontaneous weddings to Cole.”

Shaking my head, I’m amused and grateful for their support. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot to have you both on my side.”

As Coach walks in, the room’s cheerful atmosphere fades. We spend the next forty-five minutes intently studying tapes of our upcoming opponents. Afterward, Coach beckons me into his office.

“Westbrook, is there any truth to the rumors?” he asks, his tone direct.

“That depends on the rumor,” I reply cautiously.

“Are you married?” His eyes search mine for the truth.

“Yes, sir, I am,” I confirm, meeting his gaze steadily.

He nods, his finger rhythmically tapping on the desk. “I went down that road in college myself.”

Surprised, I take a seat. “Really? I didn’t know you were married.”

He gives a dry chuckle. “Not anymore. It lasted nine months. A complete disaster.”

My lips curve into a wry smile. “Quite the pep talk, Coach.”

He dismisses my sarcasm with a wave of his hand. “Look, I don’t care about your marital status. My concern is the team. You’re one of the best strikers I’ve had in a long time, and I can’t afford to have your personal life disrupt your performance.”

His straightforwardness doesn’t surprise me. “I appreciate your concern, Coach. Always pragmatic.”

His expression hardens. “Do we understand each other, Westbrook?”

Nodding in understanding, I lean back into the chair with a sense of resolve. “Absolutely clear, Coach. My personal life won’t interfere with my game.”

Coach’s gaze remains fixed on me for a moment, intense and calculating. “We’re relying on you this year, Westbrook. We have a real shot at the championship, and I need every one of my players at the top of their game.”

“I’m always on top of my game.” I stand up. “But thank you for the vote of confidence.” I can’t help the bitterness in my tone. It may have been impulsive, yes, but it’s like everyone expects us to fail.

He relaxes back in his chair, his features softening ever so slightly. “Marriage is hard, but you’re one of the most stubborn idiots I have ever met. If anyone can make it work, it’s you.”

A dry laugh escapes me. “Coach, if I didn’t know any better, I would say that sounds almost like a compliment.”

He lets out a grunt, the corners of his mouth twitching in a semblance of a smile. “Keep your complexities off the field, then. Focus on the game. That’s what matters now.”

Exiting Coach’s office, I replace the locker room empty, the echoes of earlier laughter long faded. My phone vibrates with a new message.

Ethan: Hey, we’re all hitting up Mario’s for pizza. Come join us.

I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. A part of me yearns for the normalcy of hanging out with the guys, but there’s something else I need to do first.

Me: Rain check, guys. Need to talk with Eva.

Driving to my place, I’m already planning how to present the ring to her. It’s a symbol, a tangible piece of commitment, and I hope it conveys what I struggle to put into words. But as I pull into the driveway, I’m surprised to see her car already there. I deleted the tracking app and removed the tracker from her phone when she agreed to give us a chance, not wanting to breach her trust again.

A part of me is apprehensive as I enter the house. The fear that she might have changed her mind, ending this whirlwind as abruptly as it began, is gnawing at me. I realize it’s a fear that might never fully go away.

I replace Eva in the living room, looking comfortable yet out of place at the same time. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m here. It was cold, so I borrowed Poppy’s key.”

“Of course not,” I reply, relieved. I reach into the bowl for my own keys. “We should go make a copy of the keys for you right now. I want you to have one. I’ve got one of yours, after all.”

She raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “One that nobody gave you.”

I can’t help but grin. “I’m crafty.”

“Uh-huh,” she replies, the skepticism in her voice not quite masking the affection underneath.

Taking a few steps toward her, I hesitate. “Is something wrong?” I ask, and I’m pleased with how steady and calm my voice sounds despite all the scenarios running through my head.

“Yes, I…” She chews at her bottom lip. “I really like your mom.”

I’m quite positive she didn’t come here to say that, but I play along, knowing that she’ll tell me when she’s ready.

“Yes, she’s a big fan of yours too.”

She nods again and looks around the apartment, wringing her hands together. My girl is nervous.

Closing the last remaining steps between us, I rest my hands on her hips and brush my lips against hers. I feel her relax, and fuck do I love being the one able to do that. It makes me feel like a damn superhero.

“Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.” I grab her hand and start making my way upstairs to my bedroom.

“Is it your penis?”

I laugh. “Obviously. This one always wants to come out and play when you’re near.”

She laughs and lets out a sigh, and I know that she’s almost totally relaxed now.

“Sit,” I say, pointing at the bed and opening my underwear drawer to retrieve the black velvet box there. I sit beside her and hold the closed box in my hand. “We’re going to make a deal, Angel.”

“Another one?”

“Uh-huh.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“I’m not going to ask you to marry me or open the box. You know my feelings for you; you know I’m all in, and I want this marriage to be a permanent thing.”

“I know,” she whispers, keeping her eyes on the box.

“So this is how it will go. I’ll leave the box on the dresser… closed.”

She turns toward me, one eyebrow raised. “Closed?”

“Uh-huh, and if you open it, you wear it.”

“And if I wear it?”

“It means that the trial is moot, that you are mine. That we’re in it for the long haul and that we’re a forever kind of thing.”

She looks at the box with such intensity that I feel the excitement burst in my chest as her fingers twitch. I see it in my head. She’s reaching for the box, opening it, and sliding the ring on her finger. I’ll then be able to wear mine and make love to my wife. But she doesn’t, and I can’t help but feel a little deflated.

She grabs her plump lower lip between her teeth and nods. “Okay, that’s fair.”

I want to pry and ask if it means she’ll look at it or is not planning to look at it at all, but I don’t. Instead, I stand up and put it on the dresser, in full view of the bed.

Settling back beside her on the bed, I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Why did you come, Angel, really?” I ask, my voice soft, inviting her to open up.

She hesitates, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. “I’m overwhelmed with everything… the doctor for my hand, in a few days… I just… I don’t know. I wanted to see you.” Her voice trails off, revealing her vulnerability.

My heart swells at her words, and I pull her closer, lying down and bringing her head to rest on my chest. “It’s a good reason,” I murmur, running my fingers through her hair. The world outside our bubble fades away, leaving the two of us in this moment of shared vulnerability and understanding.

“I love you, Angel. So much.” The words come out easily, a simple truth that resonates deep within me.

“I love you too,” she whispers back, her words barely audible but filled with emotion.

We lie there in silence, the only sound being our synchronized breathing. I feel her gradually relax against me, the tension ebbing away. It’s moments like this that remind me why I took the leap, why I chose to marry her, even in the most unconventional way. Despite the chaos, the uncertainties, and the fear, at the core of it all, there’s a connection that’s undeniable.

I close my eyes, loving the feel of her body against me, her gentle perfume. I tighten my hold on her, feeling hope, love, and a fierce protectiveness. No matter what challenges lie ahead, I’m ready to face them with her. She’s my wife, my partner, my love—and I’m determined to prove that every single day.

And before I realize it, I’m asleep, holding my world in my arms.

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