“It means that you can be married to someone who you…”
The confusion on his face was evident, and I didn’t want our son to think we were in a loveless marriage.
The grin on Jax’s face only amplified as he watched me stumble over my words, trying to find an answer for him.
I responded with the only truth I had. “I love him because we made you.”
It wasn’t what Jax wanted to hear, but it was enough to appease him for the moment. I watched as he hauled ass up and down the field. I couldn’t believe his body could still endure the grueling and taxing pressure that was this sport. Seeing him get tackled to the ground was never fun. I didn’t enjoy it then, and that hadn’t changed over the past sixteen years.
“Mom!” Ben shouted from the other side of the box seats. “Did you see?! Dad just made another touchdown!”
I nodded. “I saw.”
Caleb smiled and walked over to stand by me. “How’s it going?”
“Oh, you know. Just peachy keen.”
He chuckled. “You look concerned.”
“I can’t believe he can still take hits like that is all.”
“It’s why they call him the G.O.A.T.”
“When was his last concussion?”
“Two years ago.”
“How many more years can his body take this?”
“We’re talking about Jax Colton. If it were up to him, at least another ten.”
“Ten?” I jerked back. “What’s the average age of a quarterback retiring?”
“Around thirty-seven, maybe thirty-eight.”
“Jax is going to be thirty-five this year.”
He smiled.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s not a nothing face, Caleb.”
“I just think it’s funny that you’re so concerned about his well-being.”
“He’s the father of my son. I’d like to see him be around for a while.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“I don’t know what you’re implying.”
“I’m not. It’s just an observation.”
“Which is?”
“You care about him.”