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We walk around downtown a little before we take a car back to the hotel. “Once you live here, we can take our time touring the sights,” he says, my hand clutched firmly in his in the backseat.

“Can’t wait,” I murmur. We’ll have a baby then, and life will be different. But that’s life, right? A series of transitions, and we fumble our way through from one to the next, doing the best we can with what we have.

He squeezes my hand. “I thought about swinging by Luke and Ellie’s so you could see where we’ll be staying when we first move back out here, but I don’t think we have much time to kill since our parents will be getting here around lunch time.”

I glance over at him. “You still want to do that?”

“Move in with Luke?” he asks.

I nod.

“I think it makes sense to make plans to stay somewhere temporary at least until the ink is dry on the fifth-year extension, which should be any day now, but I don’t want you to move out here and feel all alone. I think it’s a great idea to stay with someone I trust, someone who can help with the baby when I’ll be away at camp in July and then in season through January.”

“And maybe February,” I say, offering a smile as I hint that I expect him to win the Super Bowl.

He chuckles. “With any luck. But I don’t like talking about it.” He wrinkles his nose. “It feels like a jinx, you know?”

I nod. “Do you have any other superstitions?”

He laughs. “All players do. It’s a game of rituals, and if something works one time, you stick with it until it grows into this huge thing that must be done at all costs or we will lose. Some guys don’t shave when we’re on a winning streak. Some wear the same shoelaces to every game. One guy won’t sit during a game—he has to stand when he’s not on the field. Another guy will only drink orange Gatorade. Some guys do yoga before a game. But me? I take a lap around the field to center myself before a game.”

“You run?” I ask.

He nods. “I focus on the markers and try to learn the field since every single one feels unique in its own way, like it’s a slightly different surface even if it’s the same physical material. So I run a lap, feel the grass or the turf under my shoes, breathe in the air, and force my mind to focus on the game and making plays.”

The car turns into the driveway at the Venetian, so we’re almost back. “Both home and away games?” I ask.

“Yep,” he says, and the car pulls behind some traffic, so we wait our turn for the driver to pull up so we can get out. “I did it a time or two in high school but it wasn’t a ritual or anything. When we started playing big games in college, that’s when I felt like I needed a lap to get the nervous energy out. And it just evolved from there.”

We move forward, and we thank our driver before getting out. Tristan holds out a hand to help me, and when I glance up after closing the door behind me, I’m shocked at who I see standing on the sidewalk.

“Sara?” I squeal as I rush over to her and squeeze her.

She grins at me. “I wasn’t about to miss my best friend’s wedding!”

“I can’t believe you’re really here!” We dance around with excitement. I told her about the wedding, told her I wanted her there…but I didn’t know if she’d actually be able to make it.

“I’m Tristan,” he says to her, and she giggles nervously.

“Wow,” she says, staring up at him. He’s a tall drink of water, but he’s also gorgeous and he’s an NFL star. It’s a pretty common reaction.

I smack her playfully in the arm. “Hands off, sister. He’s mine.”

“I can’t believe you never mentioned your history with him,” she says.

Tristan glances at me, a question in his eyes.

I shrug a little awkwardly. “It was too painful to bring it up when I thought it was long over. And then we found each other again. Happy ending.” I grin, though the thought that we’re not actually at the ending crosses my mind.

She grabs the handle of the suitcase beside her I hadn’t noticed. “I need to go check in,” she says, and we walk into the hotel with her.

“Where’s Shane?” I ask.

“He had to work today and tomorrow so he won’t be coming out, but I called in sick and figured we could have a huge bachelorette party.” She winks as she glances at my stomach, clearly teasing me.

Tristan chuckles, too. “I actually have plans for a bachelor-slash-bachelorette party tonight.”

My brows arch. “You do?”

He lifts a shoulder. “I’m full of surprises.”

We’re still in the lobby when Sue, Russ, and my mom walk through the front doors. Sue and Russ look like they’ve been here before, but my mom just stares around the place with awe in her eyes—much like I did when I first got here. Much like I still am, I suppose.

I run over to my mom—well, run might be a bit of an exaggeration with fifteen extra pounds all in my stomach—and squeeze her before hugging both Tristan’s parents.

“We’re so excited to be here,” Sue says. “We just couldn’t be happier for you and Tristan.”

Tears heat behind my eyes. She always made me feel like I was a part of their family, but now I actually will be.

It all feels so surreal.

After everyone gets settled, we all head out to lunch at a restaurant in our hotel, and then we all head over to the chapel. We show off the room where we’ll be married, we meet with Gloria to finalize all the details, and I show the ladies the dress I chose.

My mom cries, and so does Sue.

It’s becoming more and more real, and I can’t wait to marry Tristan tomorrow.