The noise is deafening.

Towels of maroon and gold are waved in circles around almost every fans head, the bump of some hit pop song mixing with the cheers and chants of the home team.

My mouth waters, the scent of sausage and peppers, popcorn, beer and peanuts drifting on the wind. Everywhere you look, some kind of excitement is taking place. Whether it’s the wide-eyed look of a child experiencing her first game, the mascot doing cartwheels down the sidelines, the coaches smacking their players on the shoulder pads, getting them pumped up.

Living in Charlotte for most of my adult life, the one thing I haven’t done at all is attend a Cheetahs game. I think, after obsessing over Paxton’s college career, football was one of the things I had to swear off when he left without so much as a goodbye the day he entered the draft. Anytime we had a wish that required attendance at a game, I sent Farrah. She never asked questions, but I knew that she understood that there was some kind of history there. So, while I knew a bunch of the players, and was friendly with many from hospital visits or signing days or charity dinners, I’d never shown up at a game.

“Demi Rosen, on the field! I never thought I’d see the day. And in heels no less.” Greg Backus, the Cheetah’s running back, stood in front of me in full uniform and pads.

Greg had tried to ask me out at least a dozen times. Not that he wasn’t handsome, heck, I’m sure women in the Charlotte area would cut off their right hand to go out with him, but I stuck to my rule and always turned him down.

I peered down at my favorite Sam Edelman pumps. “A business woman always has to look the part. Plus, these heels are amazing.”

His eyes heat. “Well, they look it. Are you going to let me take you out yet?”

“Hi, Demi. Nice to see you, again.” At that exact moment, Paxton walks up.

It’s bad enough I have to see the jerk who stomped on my heart, but does he have to be so freaking gorgeous? Paxton looks like Thor, before the Thor movies even existed. With an earring. If you’ve never been with a guy with an earring, you’re missing the boat. It’s a surprisingly huge turn on.

“Paxton.” I nod my head.

“Hey, don’t give the new guy all the attention. Remember who was here first.” Greg winks at me before running down the sideline to get his ankle taped.

Paxton narrows his eyes at Greg’s retreating back, and I want to slap him. He has absolutely no claim over me, not anymore.

But clearly, he remembers what we were to each other. He’d made that known when he came into my office and tried to have a jovial conversation. I’m not interested in any of that, and I hope I got that message across. I’m gritting my teeth and bearing this until today is over and I never have to be in the same room as Paxton Shaw again.

“Miss Demi, look at my jersey!” Ryan runs over to me, his bald scalp covered by a Cheetahs hat, a jersey signed by all the players hanging down to his knees.

“That is too cool, you’re one lucky kid to get one of those. And to have so many players look up to you. I heard you scored a touchdown on Connor Ike before!”

Ryan and his family had gotten to spend most of this week’s practice days, and the warm-ups hours before today’s game, with the team. They’d included him in drills, throwing passes, film watching, and running through today’s play calls. I’d laid this all out with Harry, the public relations rep we usually dealt with.

“I did, and kicked the extra point! And now they gave me a headset. Pax is really awesome.” He’s missing one of his front teeth, and my God is he adorable.

We’re down on the sidelines, where we’ll stay for the entirety of the game. The staff gave him an official earpiece, so he can hear all of the plays as they’re being called.

And yes, Paxton had been really sweet with him. I’m not sure why I’m surprised, he’s clearly practiced at media training being in the league for so long. But I silently thanked him for being so good to Ryan. He hadn’t left his side since day one of meeting the little boy, and I knew that in the long run, Ryan would remember and cherish this wish for the rest of his life.

Bitterness and upset have a ball of emotion clogging my throat. The rest of his life. That may not be long. Fuck this fucking disease, and the fact that it took children so young.

“Buddy, watch for my first touchdown, I’m coming to give that ball right to you.” Pax ruffles Ryan’s hat.

“And now, your North Carolina Cheetahs!” The voice booming on the sound system drowns out my thoughts.

The crowd goes insane as the rest of the team runs out of the tunnel, and the players on the sideline wave to the crowd or jump up and down, getting pumped up.

Even when times were best between Paxton and me, a six month stretch during my junior year where we made a semi-go of being exclusive, he hadn’t invited me to attend a game as his girlfriend. One of my biggest dreams was to sit in the family section, next to the other girls wearing their boyfriend’s number, known by all the families as Pax’s girl.

But he never gave me that, and looking back now, my heart aches with sadness for the girl too insecure to dump his loser ass and get rid of the guy who treated me like shit. Because that was what he did, everyone saw it. My friends, Chelsea especially, would berate me for staying in any Saturday night the football team had a game, my eyes glued to the television watching Paxton score touchdowns.

So when, on the fourth drive of the game, Pax soars through the air into the end zone, my heart leaps. I don’t want it to, but old habits die hard.

He runs down the sideline to where Ryan is and thrusts the point-scoring ball into his hands before lifting him up on his shoulders. The video board in the stadium shows the two of them cheering, and the crowd goes wild for this little boy who, in this moment, can forget all about the illness plaguing him.

As soon as it’s socially acceptable to leave the game, I bolt. Another minute inside that stadium and all of the carefully constructed walls I’d used to steel myself against my past would come crumbling down.