And wait we did.
It’s been weeks since Troy was brought to the hospital. I’ve been here a lot. Probably more than I should have been. But Danny has been incredibly supportive and understanding through it all.
I make my way into the ICU and back to Troy’s room, discovering there hasn’t been any change since yesterday. He’s still here. Still on dialysis due to his ruptured kidneys.
But there has been some significant progress. He was taken out of the medically induced coma and off the ventilator. Breathing on his own for the first time since the overdose is a big milestone. The second was the brain function tests showed that there was in fact function. He will have some physical, emotional, and cognitive damage, but based on his age, with rehabilitation, they are hoping he can overcome most of it. The main takeaway is that he isn’t brain dead. And that, for me, is a huge relief.
Kansas City made it through the playoffs, and they’ve been in LA all week to prep for the big game—a game I definitely won’t be missing. But very early this morning, I kissed Danny good-bye and then headed here.
I’m sitting next to Troy’s bed, flipping through the pages of a women’s magazine and reading random things out loud when there is movement from the bed.
Troy’s arms are flailing.
At first, I think he’s having a seizure, but then I come to the realization that he’s awake and trying to pull his feeding tubes out.
I grab his hand and loudly say his name, which causes his nurse to come racing into the room.
“Troy, it’s okay! You’re in the hospital. It’s Eddie. I’m here with you.”
His eyes are wild, but when I speak, they move in my direction.
And he looks at me.
He actually looks at me.
“It’s okay,” I reassure him.
He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but no words come out.
“We’ll talk after they take the tube out,” I tell him, running my hand down his arm. Relieved tears prickle my eyes. “You’re awake, Troy. You’re finally awake.”
From that moment on, there are a litany of doctors and nurses coming to see him and one test after another. They take the tube out of his throat and offer him a little water, which he’s able to drink.
And, at one point during it all, he turns to me. “Eh-dee.”
I lose it.
Start bawling.
So many times, it was suggested that I take him off life support. But I didn’t. I don’t know if it was stubbornness or my own weakness that wouldn’t allow me to do so. And I worried all the time that I was making the wrong decision. But hearing him try to speak my name is the sweetest of sounds. It lets me know that I did the right thing.
Hours later, a nurse suggests, “Jennifer, you should take a walk. Go get something to eat. The tests will continue throughout the course of the next few days as we assess his situation.”
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I’ll run down to the cafeteria. Grab some coffee.”
I take the now-too-familiar walk to the café and notice patrons raptly watching the television. I look up at it.
Oh shit! The Super Bowl game!
I rush out of the cafeteria and sprint down the hall, back to Troy’s room where I grab my phone.
I have numerous calls and texts from Danny, his kids, Jadyn and Phillip, probably wondering where the hell I am.
I hit Jadyn’s number.
“Jennifer!” she says, sounding relieved. “We’ve been worried about you!”
“I’m so sorry! Troy woke up! And there were tests and procedures, and I lost track of time. I’ll drive back and meet you at the house.”
“The house? Jennifer, the game starts in less than thirty minutes. We’re here. At the stadium. In the suite!”
“Oh my God. I have to get there. I have to let Danny know I’m there. I just have to,” I say, starting to cry.
“You’ll never make it in traffic. But that’s okay. I can get ahold of Carter, have him tell Danny you’re on your way and what happened.”
“I’m an idiot,” I sob hysterically. “I have been spending all this time with Troy, trying to do the right thing, and I’m going to miss this. I can’t miss this. He needs to win. I need to be on his wall.”
“Jennifer, calm down. You’ll be able to get here for some of the game. Wait, what? Hang on, Phillip is talking to me. Here,” she says, “you talk to her.”
Phillip comes on the line. “Remember Melvin, the plumber who worked on Danny’s house?”
“Uh, yeah?” I say, wondering what the heck that has to do with anything.
“His brother, Denny, is one of LA’s finest, and we got him into a VIP party last night with the teams. He told me if I needed anything at all, to call him. I’m calling him now.”
I hear Jadyn talking in the background. “With traffic, she won’t get here for two hours, based on this navigation app, which is usually spot-on.”
I can’t believe that I spent the day with the man I don’t love anymore instead of the one I do. I’m a shit girlfriend.
Hell, after this, I probably won’t even be that anymore.
I hear pieces of Phillip’s conversation. “Phillip Mackenzie … favor. The missus … the cruise even if they don’t win. Uh-huh. Sure. Perfect.”
Phillip comes back to Jadyn’s phone. “Jennifer?”
“I’m here.”
“In precisely fifteen minutes, an LAPD helicopter is landing at the hospital. Captain Denny Martin, Melvin’s brother, is going to pick you up. He’ll land close to the stadium and have a patrol car take you in.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, but do you have your ticket and passes with you?” he asks. “If you left them at the house, then I don’t know that there’s much we can do.”
“I do! I put them in my purse this morning so that I wouldn’t forget.”
“Thank goodness. All right then, say good-bye to Troy and get your ass here, where you belong!” he says and then hangs up.
I rush to the nurses’ station with Phillip’s words ringing in my ears. “Say good-bye to Troy.”
I’ve gotten to know the staff, and they seem to appreciate the food I keep having delivered to their station.
“Huge favor,” I say to one of my favorite nurses.
“Whatcha need?”
“Do any of you have any makeup I can borrow? Today’s the Super Bowl. I’m supposed to be there.”
“And you’re dating that hot quarterback Danny Diamond.”
“Yes, I am,” I say, praying it’s still true. “I need to get to the game, but I look like a mess.”
The nurse surveys me. “You’ve cried a lot today, as would be expected. It was a big day for you and Troy.”
“Say good-bye to Troy.”
“I’m just going on break. Come to the restroom with me, and I’ll have you fixed up in a jiffy.”
I follow her. When we get in the bathroom, she pulls out a bag full of makeup and brushes. In less than five minutes, she smiles at me and lets me look at myself in the mirror.
“You’re a genius,” I say, standing up and giving her a hug. “Thank you so much.”
“My husband and I have a bet,” she confides. “Two hundred dollars to spend any way we want and some sexual favors. Of course, I put my money on the hottie QB. Maybe this will give me a leg up on winning.”
“He has to win,” I mumble, remembering that day.
“You know how people make dream boards to motivate themselves?” he asked.
“Like, with stuff they want to buy or places they want to visit?”
“Exactly. This is my dream wall,” he explained.
“But there’s nothing on it.”
“That’s because I visualize what I want it to hold. A third mural like the ones over there with confetti raining down, my children by my side, the fans cheering, the team going crazy, the pride and years of playing and practices, the injuries and pain, the pushing my body, the travel, and the missing my family—all culminated in one humbling, thrilling moment of victory. But, when I just closed my eyes, I saw something different.”
“What did you see?”
“You in the picture,” he said, resting his chin on my shoulder.
I clutched my chest, my heart racing, and then turned around to face him. “I’d love to be in that picture, Danny.”
“Do you know how I get to the helipad?”
“Sure,” she says, giving me directions. “Are you going to tell Troy you’re leaving, or do you want me to let him know?”
“Say good-bye to Troy.”
I glance at my watch, noting that I have just enough time to do what I need to do.
“Troy, I have to go,” I say, returning to his room. “It’s been forty-four long days since I dropped everything and flew here. I’ve been by your side since then. Watched you have strokes, seizures, procedures. I’ve considered taking you off life support. I’ve stressed, cried, cared, and loved.
“For one of the most talented men I’ve ever met, you’re an idiot. You’re an addict. But, for some unknown reason, you’re alive. Your brain isn’t fried. Your body still mostly works. I’m going to give you one piece of parting advice that I’m going to take myself from this day forward. We have one life, Troy, and I’m going to start living the life I’ve always dreamed of. You should, too, because I sure as hell know you didn’t dream of this.”
“E-uh-ie,” he stutters.
“Yeah?”
“Th-ak ooh.”
“You’re welcome. Your rehabilitation is going to be tough because you’re going to go through it alone. You’ve alienated everyone. You haven’t had one single visitor besides me and Jason. To the party friends, you’re a reminder of what they could become. The prostitutes you were partying with were afraid of getting into trouble, so they left you unconscious for a while before deciding to call for help. But if it wasn’t for them, you’d be dead. Maybe you wish you were, but I don’t think so. You had it all. Your fans love you. They left trinkets and posters and candles and flowers for you in front of the hospital. If you stay clean and get your life in order, they will support you.” I kiss him on the forehead. “Take care of yourself, Troy. But know that our relationship and whatever friendship we might have had is over.”
“Lub ooh.”
“You always say that, but please, be honest with yourself from here on out. You loved alcohol and drugs more than you loved me. I’m so incredibly glad you are alive. Glad you woke up. And glad you’re going to get better. I just have nothing more to give. You made it this far. Find wherever inside of you that your will to live is coming from and use it to get better. Good-bye, Troy.”
I rush out of his room, down the hall to the elevators, and then up to the top floor. I get lost but quickly backtrack and find where I need to be.
A few moments later, a policeman comes through a locked door with his hand held out. “Jennifer Edwards. I’m Denny Martin. Let’s get you to that game!”
Denny leads me to the police helicopter, I get buckled in, and we’re off, flying over the city.
We touch down a few minutes later, on the outskirts of the stadium parking lot in a space reserved for police.
Denny looks at his watch. “We’re cutting it close! Hurry!”
We jump out of the chopper, run to a police golf cart, and take off again.
We’re met at a side door to the stadium by an officer and Phillip, who, even though he arranged for me to get here in time, doesn’t really look happy with me.
“You’ve got to be all in,” he says, shaking his head at me as he rushes me down a tunnel.
“I told Troy it was the last time I’d see him. That chapter is over.”
He takes a lanyard from his back pocket that will allow me to get on the field and throws it over my neck.
“Go,” he says, pointing to the door. “Carter will meet you inside and take you to Danny.”
Danny
Warm-ups are over, we’ve gotten pumped up in the locker room, and we are now back on the field, waiting for the national anthem to begin.
After that, it will be game time.
In what could be the defining game of my career.
My third ring.
I’ve played games while experiencing a range of emotions in my personal life, but the fact that Jennifer isn’t here, well, I can’t say that it doesn’t hurt. I get why she needed to be with Troy, and I’ve been supportive.
But I definitely have my game face on.
I used our time apart to prepare for every aspect of this game.
“Danny!” I hear my agent’s voice from somewhere behind me, and I turn in his direction.
He’s standing on the sidelines.
With Jennifer.
She rushes toward me. “I’m here,” she says. “And I’m so sorry if I distracted you. It wasn’t my intention. The good news is that Troy woke up and it was just crazy with all the tests and I lost track—”
I don’t let her finish her sentence. I just kiss her. Hard.
“The even better news is that I told him good-bye,” she says, pulling her lips away. “I know I barely got here. But that doesn’t matter now. You supported me, and it’s my turn to start doing the right thing for us. And that’s living our life together. Like, if you still want to.”
“Remember my empty wall?” I ask, my face mere inches from hers.
“That’s all I thought about on the way over here.”
“You’re here now.” I kiss her again. “That’s all that matters. And you can be sure I plan on impressing my girl today.”
“Oh,” she says with a sexy grin. “I mean, I’m pretty knowledgeable about the game of football. And I’m not easily impressed.”
“Just you wait,” I say, letting go of her as the singer of the national anthem takes her place on the field. “Just you wait.”
“That almost sounds like a threat, Danny Diamond.”
“Oh, it is. Next time I see you, it will be back on this field,” I say, pointing down, “with confetti raining down on our heads in victory.”
Jennifer
The game is a defensive battle. At the half, the score is tied six to six, the result of a couple of field goals for each team.
The skybox we’re in is filled with family and friends.
Other than greeting everyone and a few high fives after good plays, I haven’t been super social. I’m nervous. A wreck, really. And I’m pacing.
I’ve never felt like this before. Like everything is riding on one game. One event.
The halftime entertainment annoys me. It seems like it lasts too long, although Damon, Chase, and Devaney seem to love it. Phillip and Jadyn are as calm and collected as usual.
Maybe it’s because they are used to it.
Maybe it’s because they love Danny whatever the outcome.
Maybe it’s because it’s not the first championship game he’s played in.
Maybe they don’t think it’s that big of a deal.
Like it is to me.
I want to be in the picture on his wall. I want to be out there with confetti raining down on us.
But, so far, the offense is just not delivering on the field. Danny’s being rushed in the box. When he rolls out, it’s a hurry-up situation, or he’s getting sacked. The offensive line doesn’t seem to be opening up holes for his running backs. The receivers are either well covered or dropping passes.
Jadyn stands in front of me, holding out a beer. “You look like you could use this.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t worry. Danny’s going to win.”
“How can you be so sure? The offense is sputtering. They just can’t get anything going.”
She smiles at me. “Danny is incredibly driven.”
“So’s the other quarterback,” I counter.
“He wants the picture. He wants you. You need to believe in it up here,” she says, pointing first to me and then to the suite we’re in, “as much as he does down there.” She points to the field. “Seriously, Jennifer, you need to enjoy this. Win or lose, it’s probably the last time we’ll all get to see him play.” Her lips move into a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“You’re right.” I nod my head. “Plus, they’re bound to make some adjustments at the half, right?”
“This is a big game. Guys who play brilliantly all year can get a little shell-shocked by it. I’m expecting a much more exciting second half. And make sure you have your pass on and ready to go; you’re going to need it.”
“What do we do?” I ask, realizing I don’t even know.
“When the game is almost over, the winning team’s family will go to their designated area,” she says. “We’re lucky because it’s just straight down from the box.”
“Will you be going down there?”
“We haven’t before, but Danny managed to get the three of us passes this year, so yes.”
“They’re back on the field!”
And Jadyn was right; the second half is more exciting, but it’s exciting in a nail-biting way. The offenses for both teams get going, and it’s back-and-forth scoring. With only four minutes left in the game, Kansas City is down by twelve. A score of twenty-four to thirty-six.
Dani is chewing on the sleeve of her sweater, watching every play with anticipation. I have the urge to pace, but I stay in my seat between the kids.
Danny goes three and out, so we punt to the opposing team. Fortunately, the kick is good, and they have to start deep at the seven-yard line.
The play starts, and the quarterback drops back into the end zone to throw a pass. There’s a player wide open downfield, and my heart drops into my stomach.
The quarterback releases the ball, but then one of our defensive linemen leaps up and tips it. Somehow, the ball then drops down into his arms.
“Ahhh!” everyone in the box yells.
Then, it’s, “Run. Go. Go!”
Then, more cheering as he takes a few steps into the end zone for the score. After an extra point, the score is now thirty-one to thirty-six.
“A field goal won’t win it,” Damon says, biting his lip.
“We’ve got to hold them on this drive,” Chase agrees. “Make them punt and get the ball back with enough time to score.”
“That’s what we’ll do,” I say. “Danny’s got this. Kansas City’s got this.”
“Look,” Devaney says, pointing. “The other team’s families are going to the spot we’re supposed to go to for the celebration ceremony after the game. They must be pretty confident.”
“Well, there isn’t much time left,” Damon counters. “I’d be going down there now, too, if Dad’s team were winning.”
“Not to sound catty,” I say, “but we’ll be making them move.”
“You’re awfully confident,” Phillip says.
He and Jadyn have been sitting in the row behind us.
I turn around and smile at them. “Oh, come on, you guys. You know Danny’s going to win.”
And while I’m feeling confident up here in the suite, what happens on the field isn’t very reassuring. The opposing team gets a first down on their second play. And even with time-outs, it’s going to be tight if we don’t stop them. Fast.
“They just keep running the ball,” Damon says. “We could use another interception.”
The quarterback does the same play again, seemingly just trying to run time off the clock by handing off again to his tailback, who runs … straight into one of our linemen. The defender punches the ball out of the runner’s hands as he’s going down, causing a pileup and for everyone to scramble for the ball. We’re all out of our seats, watching the instant replay.
“I think we got it,” Damon says, but then the opposing team starts signaling that they recovered.
The referees continue to pull players off the pile until there’s only one left.
Our team.
With the ball.
The crowd goes crazy. The suite goes crazy.
“Twelve seconds and one time-out. Ball at the twenty,” Phillip says. “No problem.”
But then the opposing teams throws down the red flag, challenging the play. Saying their player’s knee was down before the ball came out.
We watch the replay again. It’s close, but he definitely fumbled the ball, and the call stands.
We all cheer again.
Danny takes the field with his offense.
Chase grabs Devaney’s hand. She grabs mine, and I take Damon’s. I feel Jadyn’s hand on my shoulder.
“He’s got this,” she says. “I know he does.”
Danny lines up. The ball is snapped.
And is promptly sacked.
A time-out is called to stop the clock. Danny gets up, and you’d think he’d be pissed, but the camera shows him in the huddle, talking calmly with his men. I wonder what he’s saying to them.
And if it will matter.
They take the field again.
“This is it,” Jadyn says, “the last play.”
And I know what she says is meaningful. Not only is it the last play of the game, but it’s also probably the last play of his storied career.
Danny lines up on the field.
The ball is snapped.
He drops back to pass.
“He’s open in the end zone!” Damon yells, jumping up and down. “Throw it, Dad! Throw it!”
And Danny does just that.
If you didn’t know it was the championship game, you’d think he was tossing the ball to Damon in the backyard. It looks effortless and lands right in the receiver’s waiting arms.
“Touchdown!” we all yell as time runs off the clock.
Oh my gosh. He did it.
We tear out of the suite and race down toward the field. It’s a little awkward since the other family is trying to get back up, but we don’t care.
Moments later, confetti flies as we rush onto the field.
Danny’s surrounded by reporters. He moves them aside and opens his arms as we rush into them. I’m crying. He’s crying. The kids are cheering. Championship ball caps are slapped on our heads.
Devaney whispers into her dad’s ear and then slips something into his palm.
His look is one of astonishment, and I’m dying to know what she just gave him.
Devaney and Damon step back in some choreographed championship winning dance that I don’t seem to know.
I watch as Danny gets down on one knee.
And I wonder what he’s doing.
Is he picking up some of the confetti to save it?
I look at the kids to see if they are doing the same, but they are just standing there, grinning.
Danny looks up at me and takes my hand. “Jennifer Edwards, the love of my life, the woman who has had my heart and soul since the day I met her, will you make me even happier than I am after winning my third championship game and marry me?”
I cover my mouth and nose with my hands, barely able to grasp the beauty of what is happening.
Danny Diamond is asking me to marry him.
At the championship game.
With confetti raining down on us. His picture is going to be better than either of us imagined.
I take a deep breath, letting it out with a shudder as he shows me what is in his palm.
A little pink velvet box.
He opens it, revealing the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen—a big, fat heart solitaire ringed with halos of diamonds that glitter like crazy under the stadium lights.
“Holy shit!” I say, jumping up and down. “Yes!”
Danny places the ring on my finger and then picks me up, twirls me around, and kisses me.
“Jadyn, you’d better order a whole truckload of fried chicken and champagne. We’ve got some celebrating to do,” I yell out even though I know she probably has Danny’s hotel tub already full of ice and chilled bottles.
Danny
When the locker room celebration is over, we all go back to the team hotel and celebrate some more. Eventually, the kids and Jadyn get tired, so Phillip takes them back to the house.
Jennifer stays by my side, having a ball, partying with my teammates until the wee hours of the morning. It isn’t until the last bottle of champagne has been drunk that we get driven back to her house as the sun is rising.
She’s holding my hand tightly as I lead her through the house and to her backyard. Even though it faces west, the colors of the sky are beautiful.
I take her into my arms on her deck with the view and say, “I know we’ll plan a wedding, and I know we’ll say our vows, but I want to do that thing you talked about. I want to recite our promises to each other.”
“Now?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“But I didn’t plan anything.”
“That’s the point,” I tell her. “They are supposed to be raw and come from your heart.”
She nods, leans in, kisses me, and then takes a step back, grabbing both of my hands and looking into my eyes. “We’re easy, Danny. Wonderfully, amazingly easy. You taught me that real love, true love, is nearly effortless. It’s a state of being, not a decision. Call it fate, if you will. But accept it. Accept that it’s beyond our control. That our being together is just plain right. Like the world is now correctly aligned for us. You. Me. Destiny. That rhymes.”
“So do we,” I say. “Your name is poetry on my lips. Your touch glistens over me like the sun on the waves. Your hand in mine both arouses and comforts me. Our bodies mold seamlessly, a perfect fit.”
“Oh, I agree with that one. I think it’s quite possible that you were literally made for me. And I promise you that I will never again let anyone or anything stop us from finally experiencing the kind of life and love we have with each other. But I also have expectations. I expect to be loved. Completely and fully by a man who loves himself and won’t self-destruct the second I look away. I expect to be treated with respect by you, your children, and your ex-wife.”
“Hmm,” I say with a grin, taking her hips in my hands and bringing her in closer. “I appreciate your understanding that I’m a package deal. I expect for us to have fun, to laugh together every single day, and to be reckless in love always. I’m ready to share my life with someone who deserves my love and who will love me back forever.”
“I’ll take your forever and raise the ante with a couple of kids.” There’s a lightness in her voice, but I know she’s quite serious about this. “You’re going to be needing a few more tattoos. Not just another championship one, but at least two of the Roman numeral birthdates, too.”
“I’m not sure I can top that.” I kiss her. “My love for you, um, it rises from the ocean, its depth unfathomable.”
“Now, you’re just being silly,” she says, kissing me again. “My love for you is hotter than the sun.”
“That’s almost as hot as you,” I tell her as I let my hands glide suggestively across her hips.
“Oh, Danny Diamond, what am I going to do with you now?” she repeats the words she said to me that night on the beach, letting out a wholehearted laugh.
“I bet I can come up with a few ideas,” I tell her, leading her back to the house and into the bedroom.
