Chapter 34

Izzie

I can’t believe I’m at the Super Bowl!

I’ve always loved watching the game on television, but there’s nothing like being at the stadium for the big event.

Every seat is filled, which makes me even more grateful that Brady invited us to share his big day.

Liam looks really excited. When the announcer introduces the San Antonio Rangers and the New York Bulls, he jumps out of his seat and cheers.

This morning, I presented him with an official Brady Thomas jersey to wear to the game, and he told me he couldn’t believe he knew a real football player with his name on a shirt.

How cute is that?

“Is he going to win?” Liam asks me.

“I hope so. But even if he doesn’t, it’s exciting just to be in the Super Bowl. Some players spend their whole careers trying and never make it. Brady is really lucky.”

“He’s not lucky, he’s the best!” Liam seems to have inherited his father’s competitive spirit, and while I hope he won’t worry too much about the outcome of this one game, I have to admit that his enthusiasm is contagious.

While Liam and his friend compare Cracker Jack prizes, I offer to get Alex another drink.

We’re in one of the fancy VIP boxes that come with a dedicated snack bar and beverage cart. This is way better than sitting in the nosebleed section and having to climb down a mountain to get to the concessions stand.

Plus, I have an unobstructed view of Brady. He looks so amazing in his uniform, with his broad shoulders and muscular thighs. All the men on the team are fit—I’ve made sure of that—but he’s really something special.

When will it be my turn to tackle him?

For a brief moment, I imagine that Brady and I are married, and that Liam and I always come to Brady’s games. In this fantasy, I’m one of those football wives who shows up on the jumbotron so often, that her makeup is always perfect, and she doesn’t even get nervous.

But I can’t think about that right now. It’s enough that Brady has invited Liam to watch him play. I can’t expect him to sign up for parent-teacher conferences and trips to the dentist’s office right away.

Baby steps.

The game begins, and Brady has never been more focused on the game than he is right now.

Playing against his old teammates seems to be working out for him, because he anticipates almost all their moves. The scoreboard lights up with every touchdown and field goal.

For a brief moment, Brady appears on the jumbotron, larger than life and ready for action, and my heart flutters.

“Do you see Brady up there?” I ask Liam.

“Whoa,” he says. “He’s a giant!”

During the halftime show, a woman in a stadium uniform approaches our row. “Is there an Isabella Williams here?”

I raise my hand. “That’s me.”

The woman reaches into her bag and pulls out a football. “This is from Mr. Thomas. He says to give it to Liam.” She looks at the little boy sitting next to me, his eyes lighting up with hope. “Is that you?”

“That’s me!” he agrees happily. The woman hands Liam the football, and he squeals when he sees that it’s been signed by every member of the team.

Then she gives me a handwritten note. Brady’s signature is at the bottom, and the note reads, So far, this is the best game of my career. You must be my good luck charm. Even coach can’t deny it.

I burst out laughing at the last part. After a rocky start in the season, it’s good to see Brady back at the top of his game.

“What does the note say?” Liam asks me.

“Brady says you’re his good luck charm. He can hear you cheering for him up here, and it makes him feel really good.”

I know the note is meant for me, but Liam is having so much fun being a sports fan that I want to let him soak up every joyful moment he can.

This is the kind of childhood memory I’ve always wanted him to have, and I am so glad that Brady is the one who’s given him that.

The second half of the game is even better than the first. Some fans are so nervous about their team winning that they can’t stand it when the other team scores, but I like a little bit of a challenge. I’m glad the Bulls aren’t making it too easy for the Rangers to win.

In the last quarter, the quarterback for the Bulls is moments away from making a game-winning throw when Brady intercepts the ball and runs it all the way down the field. He’s tackled, just short of the ten-yard line, but with a few seconds left on the clock, the Rangers can still win the game.

If Brady can kick a field goal.

With the camera focused tightly on his face, he turns and—I swear it—winks at me. But this time, instead of being distracted, he seems even more motivated to score.

In one powerful motion, he makes contact with the football and sends it soaring through the goal posts just as the buzzer sounds.

The roar of the crowd is deafening.

Brady’s teammates surround him in the happiest bro hug I’ve ever seen.

Coach McGoy has to stop and wipe his face off with a towel. I’ve never seen him so sweaty, and that’s saying a lot. I hope someone dumps Gatorade on him soon.

Once again, the woman in the stadium uniform approaches our row. “Isabella Williams?”

“That’s me.” What gifts did she bring this time? Another signed football would be okay, but a signed jock strap might be a little much.

“Mr. Thomas has invited you and the rest of your party to come down to the field to celebrate with him.”

I gasp. “Really?”

“Really. Right this way.”

“Thank you so much!”

“No, thank you. Now I get to go, too.” She gives me a big smile and then leads the four of us down the stairs.

Once we’ve reached the bottom, she pushes the barrier aside and lets us onto the field.

We’re immediately swarmed by cheerleaders, football players, and camera crews.

When we find Brady, he’s already talking to a news reporter, a distinguished gentleman in a suit.

“Brady, how does it feel to win against your old team?”

“Wow. Before I joined the Rangers, I was afraid to leave the Bulls. I seriously didn’t think I could play without them. But now I know that every player in the NFL is a champion, and if you can just respect your teammates, no matter what city you’re playing in, you’ll always feel at home.”

“Wise words from a key player in tonight’s Super Bowl.”

While the reporter is wrapping up his interview, Brady catches me watching him and smiles. I melt right on the spot.

“Brady!” a second reporter shouts, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him in front of her camera crew.

He’s stunned by all the attention, but he doesn’t seem to bind. “Yes, ma’am?”

“What do you want to do now that you’ve won the Super Bowl?”

He stops for a moment to consider his answer. It’s a question that reporters have been asking Super Bowl winners, since the beginning of televised football, but it must be different when it’s your turn. When it’s happening for real.

“Well, I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment. I’ve worked so hard and made so many sacrifices. And don’t get me wrong, it’s every bit as rewarding as I hoped it would be. I’m thrilled right now. But now that I’ve checked winning the Super Bowl off my bucket list, there’s only one thing I’d like to do.”

“And what’s that?”

“I’d like to go home and play video games with my son.”

The reporter gives him a solid “Aw!” in response, but she has no idea what this means for Liam.

I can’t stop the tears from streaming down my face when Liam looks at me and says, “Did he just call me…”

“Yes, Liam. Brady’s your dad,” I confirm through tears, “and he wants to play video games with you.”

Meanwhile, the reporter is making her closing remarks. “And that was Brady Thomas, quarterback for the…”

“Wait just a minute. I have one more thing to say,” Brady interrupts, grabbing the microphone. “Izzie? Liam? Will you step forward? I have something I want to ask you.”

I hold my breath, grab Liam’s hand, and walk toward the man I love.

“When you first joined the team as our nutritionist, I had no idea just how good for me you’d really be. You’ve taken such good care of me—and of my son—and now, I want to take care of you. Both of you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. All I want is for us to be a family.”

Then, right in front of Liam, our friends, the Rangers, the reporters, and everybody else watching the game, he gets down on one knee and takes my hand. “Isabella Williams, will you marry me?”

I don’t even have to think about it.

“Yes!”

This is like a jumbotron proposal on steroids. The cheerleaders wave their pompoms, the marching band plays, and Brady’s teammates lift the three of us on their shoulders and carry us away to the locker room.

Brady has won Super Bowl, and Liam and I have won his heart.

This time, everybody wins.