I glanced back to the stands to look for Freddie and Georgie—a habit I’d acquired after my first game in London. The day after I signed the contract with the team, Freddie announced that he’d purchased season tickets in the front row on the sideline. I’d laughed as he held up the printed tickets in the kitchen, too excited to wait for the official ones in the mail. They had private boxes in the stadium that would have afforded Freddie more privacy, but he’d shaken his head and insisted the sideline was where he wanted to be. And he had been. For every single home game, Freddie and Georgie sat in those seats.
In the beginning, their mom had joined as well, but soccer really wasn’t her thing. She pretended to like it for my sake, but after seeing her squirm on the sidelines in her cashmere sweater, Freddie and I had freed her of the obligation. “Too gritty for my taste, though you are very talented and quite pretty in your uniform, dear!” She was happy to stay home and clip out details of the games from the newspapers. We’d flip through the clippings together over tea on Sunday mornings. Oddly enough, I realized growing up with Christy and Conan Foster had perfectly prepared me for life with a dowager duchess.
Usually after my games wrapped up, Freddie and Georgie would wait for me to finish stretching and we’d meet out back of the stadium to ride home together (with a pizza in tow), but when I glanced up into the stands after the game, their seats were empty.
I knew they’d both planned on attending the game; Freddie had confirmed it in the kitchen just before we’d left.
“I have a feeling there will be a lot to celebrate.”
Apparently not, since he and Georgie hadn’t even waited for me. All the other fans were still lingering in the stands, but Freddie and Georgie’s seats were glaringly empty.
“Why the long face, Foster?” Sasha asked from beside me. We’d moved on to a new stretch and I hadn’t noticed.
I rolled out my neck as our assistant coach continued to lead us through a few final stretches. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, though. Not only were Georgie and Freddie gone, the rest of the stadium hadn’t budged. Normally fans cleared out quickly, anxious to beat the crowds, but not that night. I glanced around to check out the other side of the stadium and everyone was standing up, angled toward the tunnel that led to the locker rooms as if they were waiting for something to happen.
“Do you know what’s going on?” I asked Sasha.
She pressed her lips together and averted eye contact, a universal sign for ‘I know something you don’t know.’
“Not sure.”
I laughed. “Seriously, what’s happening? Are they going to do the trophy ceremony early?”
She turned away and kept stretching, determined that I not see her face.
“Sasha!” I said, trying to get her to turn toward me, but then I saw him.
Freddie. Walking out of the dark tunnel. Half cloaked in shadows and then gloriously lit under the stadium lights. He was wearing a fitted navy suit with brown leather oxfords. He was clean-shaven and his thick chestnut-brown hair was styled back with a smooth wave. I’d gotten used to how devilishly handsome he was day to day. At home, he usually walked around shirtless in a pair of sweatpants that had seen better days. I’d roll out of bed and find him in front of the stove, flipping pancakes, eggs, or bacon. He loved cooking breakfast and I never got tired of watching him from my perch across the kitchen island.
Home Freddie wasn’t the version I saw walking toward me from the tunnel. This was a smooth, refined version of the man I loved. A version that made my hands shake as he continued walking toward me. The stadium erupted when they saw him, and I started to walk toward him with my hand pressed against my heart. I was trying to force it to calm down, but it was too late. Once I caught a glimpse of the line of people trailing out of the tunnel behind Freddie, the first tears were already falling. Kinsley, Liam, my parents (in their summer whites), Becca, Penn, Georgie, and Freddie’s mom; each of them trailed out after Freddie, smiling and waving as I shook my head in disbelief. I hadn’t seen my mom and dad in a few months, and I hadn’t seen Kinsley and Becca in twice as long. Moving to London and leaving them behind had been one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do, but it’d been worth it.
I locked eyes with Freddie when we were only a few feet apart. My heart kicked up a rapid beat and he smiled wider. I shook my head and asked him what was going on. As soon as he reached me, he pulled me into a tight hug and I inhaled his clean, sharp scent. It was the smell that brought me peace at the end of a long day. It was the smell of a man who was supportive, and loyal, and loving. He bent to kiss my cheek and then he pulled back to look at me. His warm brown eyes assured me that everything would be okay.
My family and friends were around us then, circled up and watching from a few feet away as I completely lost it in a fit of tears.
“I can’t stop,” I said with a laugh and a hiccup.
Freddie smiled and bent forward to wipe a tear from my face. “It’s okay.”
“You look cute!” Kinsley shouted.
“Dang, girl!” echoed Becca.
I laughed and then inhaled a shaky breath as Freddie took a knee before me on the turf.
Oh my god.
“Andie Foster…”
Oh, Jesus I could hardly hear him over the sound of my sobs. He took my hand and pressed his lips to the center.