My Darling Bride(95)

“Graham had dinner sent over,” Andrew tells me as we walk in the den. “It’s pecan chicken salad with croissants and fresh fruit. I put it in the fridge for later. Can I get you anything?”

“I’m just going to make some tea.” As long as I don’t bend and twist much, I’ll be perfectly fine.

I walk into the kitchen and stop, frowning. I feel Jane behind me. “Um, where the hell is our stove?”

Jane pats my arm. “In the dump, I hope. Maybe providing a home for some rats. We didn’t want to raise your blood pressure, darling, but well, Graham sent a new one. He said if you’re going to live here, then you needed a stove to make your meals on.”

“He sent dinner. We aren’t using the new stove.”

“We will. Stop being a Graham meanie.”

I grab my purse and root around for my cell. Jane knocks it out of my hand. “Don’t call him. I doubt he’ll answer anyway. He’s probably busy with stuff.”

I gape at my phone on the floor. “Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?”

She picks it up and hands it back, then tosses an arm around me. “Did I mention he sent someone over to check on the plumbing. He replaced the hot water heater.”

“Ugh,” I groan.

“Come on, relax. Let’s go watch TV.”

An hour later, I’m propped up on the couch reading aloud to Londyn when Andrew and Jane both come into the den.

“Turn on the TV!” Andrew calls out. “ESPN!”

I toss him the remote. “Go for it.”

He clicks it on as I sit up straighter, positioning Londyn next to me. “What’s so important, anyway?”

“News conference about the fall season for the Pythons,” Andrew says excitedly, then sends me a glum look. “I really hope y’all work shit out so I can go to some games.”

I throw one of Londyn’s stuffed toys at him, and he ducks, still focused on the TV screen.

The screen shows a long table with several players and coaches. The Python emblem hangs on a wall behind them.

As Jane calls for Andrew to turn it up, my body tenses. I feel the energy in the room as the flashes from cameras illuminate the area. Graham stands confidently behind the podium wearing a Pythons polo and jeans; his smile is contagious, causing the crowd to erupt into cheers that go on longer than expected. He shifts uncomfortably but accepts their applause with grace.

“Thank you for that sweet reception. I really appreciate it,” Graham murmurs as the people grow quiet. “There’s nothing like New York fans, and there’s nothing anywhere more incredible than the guys and coaches on the Pythons team. I’ve felt at home here from day one, and since last year, after winning the Super Bowl—well, it was one of the greatest highs I’ve ever experienced. There’s no better way to leave football in style than after that win. Today, I’m officially retiring . . .”

I lose track of his words, the shock making my ears ring. I study his face, searching for signs that something is wrong. I search for dread, or dissatisfaction, on his features, but only see . . . relief.

“I suffered a serious injury last season that gave me reason to think about the rest of my life and what I wanted that to look like, and well, it’s about health and family. I’m newly married and now own a bookstore. Formerly known as A Likely Story, we’re renaming it the Darling Bookstore. Check us out on Instagram.”

Several people cheer.

He pauses, and the crowd waits eagerly for his next words. He smiles, a wry expression softening his face. “It’s been a long road to get here,” he begins, “to find the person I need, and once you find them, it’s not hard to figure out the rest.”

“He’s talking about you!” Andrew says with an awed look.

“Arghh” comes out of me. It’s not a word. I don’t know what it is. I’m trying to process if he means what he’s saying.

Graham continues. “I’m so proud to have been part of the Pythons team, and I’m thankful for all the wonderful memories we made together. It has been an honor to be able to contribute to such an incredible team.”

The reporters begin to call out questions, eager for more information.

“What motivated you to leave such a successful football team?” asks one reporter.

“I just want to be around my family. Enjoy them,” Graham says and then stares at the screen. It almost feels as if he’s talking directly to me. “I’m crazy in love with my wife, in case you haven’t figured that out. I loved her before I even knew her.”

A tear slides down my face, and I brush it away. Does he mean it? Is this for show? My mind races in a hundred directions. If this is true, has he given up football to make me happy? I’m not sure that’s okay. I want him to be happy. I want him to make the right choice for him.

“What’s been the most challenging part of owning a bookstore? Do you and your wife work well together?” asks a woman.

Graham laughs wryly. “You think football is wild. Bookstore life is different every day. Also, a shout-out to my friend Hank and his python, Veronica. You’re welcome in the store anytime, but leave her at home, yeah?” He winks into the camera.

“How have your teammates reacted to your decision?” shouts someone.