The commissioner is always working, so as soon as the court has issued my sentence, I expect my league punishment at any moment. It’ll be issued in writing to both my agent and me, and it’ll come from the league commissioner, the man responsible for handling such discipline.

It was a misdemeanor. It wasn’t a big deal. I’m guessing I’ll get a fine from the league and move on, but the threat of more looms overhead.

But I’m also aware that this is a holiday week. I bear that in mind as Evan invites the three of us to a barbecue to celebrate the Fourth of July at his place. I hang onto the moments as Harper sits between my legs on a picnic blanket and I hold Victoria’s hand in mine while we watch the shimmering pinwheels erupt in the sky to the chaotic chorus of loud booms.

I glance over at my wife, and her eyes light up with each new explosion. A small smile plays at her lips as she watches, and I feel like things have been better between us since the sentencing. We’ve grown close again, and Harper is back to spending the night in her own room, so we’re back to privacy in my room…which we’ve used to our advantage even though we’re both exhausted with everything that’s been going on.

I turn my attention back to the sky, and I get a sense of peace like everything’s going to be okay as we celebrate both Independence Day and our one-month anniversary as a married couple.

I don’t hear from the commissioner the remainder of the week despite waiting for the call, and that brings us to the concert we’ve been anticipating for months.

On the way there, both Victoria and Harper bubble over with anticipation about what songs the band will play and what their opening number will be.

I do my best to join in the fun, but with the league’s punishment looming overhead, I’m finding it hard to muster up a whole lot of excitement.

We arrive early, and I buy everyone shirts from the merch stand. We eat hotdogs and have slushies for dessert, and Harper seems like she’s in heaven.

We head down to the main floor and find our seats, and we’re a little to the right of center in the first row.

“This is awesome !” Harper shouts, and Victoria agrees. Harper sits in the middle between us, and once our band takes the stage, that little girl shouts every single word to every single song. And the woman on her other side sings right along with her.

I spend more time during the concert watching the two of them than watching the show.

I’m committing it to memory.

I’m finding a safe space for it in the recesses of my mind.

I’m holding onto it.

Both girls have never looked so happy. They’re dancing and high-fiving while they sing, and it’s the joyful sort of glee that tells me even when I’m away at camp or gone for games, the two of them are going to be just fine. It’s an odd sense of peace mixed with envy. I want them both to be happy, but I don’t want to miss the moments. I want to share in them with the two of them, but I can’t.

I chose this life. I chose to play football.

It’s still my passion, but I’m finding there’s room in my heart for more than I ever thought there was.

They review every song we heard on the drive home, and of course we play a selection of their favorite hits. They’re both animated with excitement, and I wish we could live in this moment forever. I wish we could bottle this feeling and hold onto it as long as possible.

But that’s not the way life works.

By the time we get home, it’s almost midnight. We get Harper down to bed even though she’s still on that concert high, and then we meet up in the kitchen.

“That was some show,” she says. “Thanks for the front row experience.”

I grab the bottle of tequila down from the shelf and hold it up to offer some to my wife. She nods, and I pour us each a small glass. I hand hers over, and she clinks her glass to mine.

“I’ve never had this straight,” she admits.

I chuckle. “The first few sips are pretty disgusting but then all of the sudden they just start to slide right down.”

We take a sip at the same time, and her face puckers as she swallows it down. But then she goes in for a second sip, and then a third, and she nods. “You’re right. It gets better as it kills my taste buds.”

I laugh, but the laughter fades quickly. “You doing okay?”

She shrugs. “Tonight…it was good. We needed that. You?”

“Same. But now I’m dreading the end of this weekend. I have a feeling I’ll get a call from the commissioner on Monday, and I’m nervous about what he’s going to say,” I admit.

“What do you think it’ll be?”

I blow out a breath. “I’m praying for just a fine since I didn’t get any jail time, but historically there have been suspensions issued with this type of thing.”

She winces a little. “Whatever it is, you know Harper and I will be right here with you.”

I nod, and then I toss back the rest of the liquid in my glass and slam it onto the counter before I pull her into me. I move her until she’s backed up against the counter, and I shove my hips against hers. “I appreciate that more than you know.”

She looks a little whiplashed by the sudden move. The tequila hasn’t quite hit either of us yet. She takes down the rest of her liquid like a champ and sets the glass on the counter behind her, and then she turns to face me. She links her arms around my neck, and I tighten my hold around her waist as my cock hardens.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” she asks.

“Always.”

“I felt like we were growing apart before your sentencing, but now that it’s over…I feel like we’re growing back into each other. The last few days have been everything I needed, you know?”

I nod. “I felt it too.”

“We should’ve talked about it,” she says. “You always hear communication is the number one reason why marriages fail, and I know this is unconventional, but…”

I press a soft kiss to her lips. “But it’s still a marriage,” I finish.

She nods, and her blue eyes tilt up to look into mine. “I love you,” she says.

I haven’t heard those words in far too long.

“I love you, too.” I lower my mouth to hers again, a deep warmth filling my chest as the kiss turns passionate. Our bodies are pressed together as we level the kiss up from passionate to intense, the taste of tequila on her tongue sending a bolt of need through me. She tangles her fingers in my hair, and I lift the hem of her shirt as my palms explore the smooth skin of her back.

The heat between us intensifies, and I know I can’t fuck her in the kitchen even though I want to with every fiber of my being. The thought that Harper is upstairs is what prompts me to sweep Victoria up in my arms and carry her through the doorway to her casita.

This won’t take long, and Harper will know we’re in here if she happens to wake and come looking for us, though nine times out of ten she just walks down the hallway to my bedroom and slips into my bed if it’s the middle of the night.

I set Victoria down then shut the door behind me—and I lock it for good measure—and then I turn toward my wife. She practically attacks as she leaps toward me, and she links her legs around my waist as her lips crash back down to mine.

Jesus, this is hot.

We’re both wearing jeans, and eventually I set her back down so she can wriggle out of them. But I’m not missing my chance at stand-up sex, so as soon as we’re both naked, I say, “Climb on me again. I’m fucking you right against that door.”

Her eyes turn heated and hazy at my words, and she leaps back onto me, her breasts smashing against my chest as I settle her into place, reach under us, and impale her with my cock.

I lean her up against the door then hammer into her. She buries her face in my neck as she holds on to enjoy the ride, and the feel of her body surrounding me is everything I need. She moans softly, the sound muffled as she presses her lips to my neck, and as I breathe her in, I realize just how much I need her. And it’s not just this connection between us, or the intimacy, though that’s part of it.

It’s her love.

Her love and support is what will help me through whatever comes next.

As that realization plows into me, my body explodes into a brutal release. I growl as I start coming inside her, my cock thick with need and her pussy hungry for every little bit I can give her. Her moans start to pick up intensity as I come down from my high, and she explodes into her own orgasm as I ride out the wave, never letting up because I never want this moment to end as we’re both lost to ecstasy.

We cling to each other for a few beats, our bodies sweaty and panting as we start to come down from the high, and eventually I pull out of her and set her down.

“Shower with me,” she demands softly, and we head toward her shower to clean up our mess as we kiss some more in the intimacy of the afterglow. It’s another moment I never want to end.

But like all of them, this moment too must come to an end.