I scanned the sea of humanity, frantically looking for Mitch. Chelsea said she’d bring him. No, she said she’d try. I didn’t know what I was thinking, though. I didn’t have a cell on me. There was no way to communicate—
I hurried over to our in-house announcer interviewing Christian and our coach. “Hey, can I use your microphone for a sec?”
The older gentleman who’d been calling local college games for the past twenty years flashed a grin at me. “You sure can! Congratulations on your amazing game, Evan!”
“Thank you, sir. Can everyone hear this?” I asked. A high-pitched buzz sounded when I tapped the mic. I swallowed hard and turned toward the stands. “Mitch, if you’re here, I’m on the field at the end zone and…I’m out. All the way out. And there’s a lot of people here so if you could just meet me at—”
“He’s over there,” Christian said, nudging my shoulder and gently taking the microphone back. “Go get him.”
My heart threatened to burst at the sight of him standing in a halo of light next to Chelsea. He stood out in a crowd with his tight jeans and a sparkly “Rainbow crusader” sweatshirt. Or maybe it was something else entirely. All I knew was, he looked like sunshine. A sparkly, incandescent beautiful man. And fuck, I loved him. No doubt. I was L-word, all caps, head over heels for him.
I sidled through a small opening and raced toward him, pulling him into a fierce embrace. “You’re here.”
“You said it was important,” he said against my chest.
“It is. I did it. I’m out.”
“I heard.” He stepped back and shot an indulgent smile my way and made a circular hand motion around the stadium. “Everyone heard.”
“Good. I want everyone to know. I didn’t mean to do it this way, but it feels…right.”
“I’m happy for you, Ev,” he said in a slightly distant tone. Then he bit his bottom lip and added, “If you ever need anything, you can call me or—”
“No. I don’t need advice. I need you.” I reached for his hand and pulled him close again.
“Evan, I think—”
“I love you. I’m done keeping it inside. I want everyone to know I’m crazy about you.” I turned around and cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled at the top of my lungs, “I love this guy.”
“What are you doing?” He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “People are looking at us.”
“Let ’em look. Let ’em take pictures and post them on social media. Let them tag the wrong person and make up their own stories.…None of that matters. We matter,” I said, gesturing wildly between us. “Me and you. And I can’t wait anymore. I can’t let another second go by without telling you I think you’re the best person on the planet. Let me be the one you lean on, baby. I’m not going anywhere. You’re it for me. I love you, Mitch. And I’m pretty sure this is where you’re supposed to tell me you love me too.”
Mitch’s openmouthed, shocked expression morphed into a wide, glorious grin. He nodded profusely and launched himself into my arms. He held on tightly before pulling back slightly to meet my gaze.
“I love you,” he whispered, caressing my cheek and then sealing his lips over mine.
We ignored the catcalls and cheers, the flashing lights and celebratory music around us. It was a good night for beginnings and a perfect occasion to let go of the past. Somehow I knew the rough road of incredible loss and near death led me here. I wasn’t sad about what was lost. I was grateful for what was found. Maybe I should have been scared as hell, but the sense of hope outweighed fear. The rest was up to us.
Epilogue
“Isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?”—L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables
The smell of freshly mowed grass and roses wafted through the kitchen window. Someone was playing a Mariah Carey classic loudly. If the breeze wasn’t a necessity on a warm summer day, I would have shut the window. Then again, maybe it was just me. It had to be. I plucked at the collar of my T-shirt and wished I had time to run home and change before Mitch arrived. Graduating from college and starting a new job seemed like a walk in the park compared to this. I was so nervous.
A knock on the front door ripped me from my reverie. I swallowed hard and hurried to answer it. I flung the door open wide and smiled at the beautiful man on the front porch and thrust a bouquet of pink flowers at him.
“What’s this for, and where are we?”
“Flowers ’cause you like them and…well, come inside. No—wait.”
I picked him up and carried him over the threshold. Not like a hero in a romance, though. More like a boyfriend who didn’t want crushed roses on his new shirt.