Page 20 of Flag On The Play (Gridiron Warriors #5)
FINLAY
T he morning sun filters through the window in soft streaks, casting a glow over the white sheets tangled around us. Nova’s tucked against my chest, one of her legs hooked over mine, her fingers tracing lazy patterns along my ribs. The silence isn’t heavy. It’s peaceful. Comfortable.
She shifts slightly, tilting her head up to look at me, her voice low and sleepy. “You’re staring.”
“I’m memorizing.” I brush a kiss over her forehead. “Is that a crime?”
She grins. “Feels like flattery disguised as a line.”
“You make me happy, Nova.”
Her teasing fades, replaced with something softer in her eyes. “You make me happy, too.”
We lie there for a bit, wrapped in the quiet truth of that. Then I press another kiss to her hair and ask, “Would you come somewhere with me today?”
Her brow lifts. “Depends. Are we talking somewhere romantic, or are you going to make me suffer through something like axe-throwing again?”
I laugh, tugging her closer. “You were good at that.”
“I almost lost a toe.”
I grin, but then my expression settles into something more serious. “I want to visit my dad’s grave. Then go to lunch at my mom’s.”
Nova’s smile falls into something softer. She nods, her voice gentle. “Yeah. Of course.”
The ride is quiet, but not awkward. My hand rests on her thigh, grounding me. She doesn’t say much, but her hand covers mine, thumb brushing little circles, steady and sure.
I haven’t been back since the funeral.
Didn’t think I could handle it.
Didn’t think I was ready.
Maybe I’m still not.
But having Nova beside me makes it feel like I don’t have to be anything other than honest.
When we get there, I park and take a deep breath before getting out. The air is crisp. Cool enough that Nova pulls her sweater tighter around her.
I reach for her hand, and she takes it without hesitation.
We walk in silence until we reach the headstone.
Graham Reed, Beloved Husband and Father.
The tightness in my chest builds. My fingers flex around Nova’s. She squeezes once, encouraging, and then lets go so I can step forward.
I crouch down slowly, fingers brushing along the edge of the stone.
“Hey, Dad.”
My throat tightens, but I push through.
“I’ve been avoiding this. Coming here. Facing it. I guess I thought if I stayed away, it wouldn’t feel so real.”
The wind rustles nearby trees. A bird chirps in the distance. But the silence still feels so loud.
“I’ve thought about you a lot lately. About how I wish things were different. How I wish I could go back and fix everything. Not just the fights, but the space between us. The pride. The anger.”
I blink fast, staring at the name etched in stone. “I wasted time being bitter, and it took you being gone to realize how much I hated that version of myself. I wish I could tell you that in person. I wish we could talk. Maybe even argue one more time.”
I swallow, as my chest tightens. “But more than anything, I want to say thank you.”
I pause, letting the weight of those words settle.
“Because losing you made me realize I don’t want regrets. And right now, I don’t have any. I’m with the girl I should’ve always fought for. Nova Wilde was a missing piece of me I didn’t know was missing until she was back in my life.”
I let out a breath, voice cracking. “I love her, Dad. And for the first time in a long time, I know who I want to be.”
I look up, eyes burning. “I know things weren’t perfect between you and Mom, but I saw how you looked at her when you thought no one was watching. I get it now.”
There’s a quiet step behind me, and Nova moves to my side. She doesn’t speak just leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek, then slides her hand into mine.
I turn to her and God, she’s everything.
“Nova Wilde,” I say softly, “I love you.”
Her eyes widen, shining with tears. “Finlay.” A tear slips down her cheek, and she smiles through it. “I love you too.”
I squeeze her hand, the pressure grounding, anchoring, everything.
And right there in front of my father’s grave, I know I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
After we leave the cemetery, neither of us says much during the drive to my mom’s. Nova keeps her hand in mine most of the way, and that quiet connection is enough to pull me back down to earth.
My chest still feels raw, scraped open from everything I said at the grave. But Nova’s presence is like balm. She doesn’t try to fix it. She’s just there, and that’s more than enough.
I pull up to the familiar brick house on the corner. It’s modest, cozy, and overflowing with memories. Mom is already at the door, a dish towel slung over her shoulder, her brows pinched like she’s been pacing and watching for us the last twenty minutes.
She waves the second she sees us, then opens the door wide. “About time! I was starting to think you changed your mind and left me to eat all this food by myself.”
Nova laughs, and I swear my mom melts a little at the sound.
“Hi, Mrs. Reed,” she says, stepping forward to hug her.
“Oh, none of that now. It’s Emma. Now hug me like you mean it.” She pulls Nova in tight, and I swear they’ve got some secret woman code already happening. “Look at you, you're even prettier than I last saw you. Fin, how did you pull this off?”
Nova grins at me over her shoulder. “He’s charming when he wants to be.”
I roll my eyes but smile. “Don’t help her roast me, Mom.”
We step inside, and the smell of roasted chicken, herbs, and fresh bread wraps around us instantly.
“You didn’t have to go all out,” I say, glancing at the full spread across the kitchen island.
She waves me off. “You’re my son, and you bring the girl of your dreams and expect me not to make enough food for an army?”
Nova bumps her shoulder against mine and whispers, “Told you she always liked me.”
“Everyone likes you,” I mutter back.
Lunch is perfect.
Mom talks to Nova about her friends, her family, where she got her earrings. Nova answers each one with warmth and just the right amount of sass. It’s like watching two worlds I love collide in the best way.
Every now and then, Nova reaches for my hand under the table. I don’t even care that my mom sees. She just smiles knowingly, her gaze soft and full of approval.
After Mom’s famous peach cobbler, we move into the living room. The sun filters in through the lace curtains, casting a warm glow on everything. Nova curls up beside me on the couch, her legs tucked under her. She’s completely at ease here, which sends a quiet thrill through me.
“So,” Mom says, sipping her tea, “when’s your next home game?”
“Next week,” I reply. “We’ve got a string of away games this month, though. It’s been a grind.”
Nova looks over at me. “You’re killing it though.”
My mom raises an eyebrow with a grin. “He tell you he got player of the week last game?”
Nova’s head whips toward me. “You didn’t tell me that.”
I shrug. “Didn’t want to brag.”
“Since when?,” Nova teases, nudging me. “That’s amazing, Finlay.”
Mom beams. “It is. He used to throw tantrums when he lost at peewee football. Wouldn’t talk to anyone for days.”
“Mom,” I groan.
Nova laughs so hard she nearly drops her teacup. “I remember the days when you were a sore loser.”
“I’ve grown,” I say with a smirk. “Mostly.”
Nova looks up at me, her smile fading just a little. Something more tender slips into her expression. “You really have.”
Her words hit deeper than she probably realizes. Because yeah, I have changed. And it’s because of her.
Later, when we’re getting ready to leave, Mom pulls me into a hug and whispers, “She’s good for you. Your father always thought so, too.”
I nod, pulling back with a small smile. “I know.”
Nova hugs her goodbye, too, promising to come back for peach cobbler any time.
We head out to the car, and once we’re inside, Nova leans across the console and kisses me. It’s soft, slow, sweet.
“I’m really proud of you,” she says.
I look at her, my chest full of things I’m still learning how to say.
“I meant what I said today,” I tell her, reaching to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. “About you being the missing piece.”
She smiles gently. “I meant it too. I love you, Finlay Reed.”
And for the first time in a long time, I feel whole.