Oh fuck, that wicked little grin of hers could set me on fire. “Yes, I mean besides me.”

“Rugby. It’s always been rugby––the only thing that’s ever made sense to me, made me feel like I was where I was supposed to be.”

I shake my head, the ache for the sport curling in my chest.

“Bloody hell, babe, I miss it.” The words scrape something raw inside me. “It feels like there’s a hole in my chest some days. I didn’t know how to move on from it three years ago, and I still don’t.”

Magnolia reaches across the table without hesitation, her fingers curling around mine. Her touch is soft, steady—a touch that anchors you when you’re close to breaking apart.

And the expression on her face… Christ, it guts me. It’s like she’s hurting because I’m hurting, like she feels it all right along with me. She always has. She’s always been in sync with me, without even trying.

And that is what I want in my wife. Not just someone who stands beside me when things are easy, but someone who leans in when it’s hard, when it’s messy, when it would be easier to walk away.

I squeeze her hand, needing the connection more than I want to admit.

“But when you came into my life, I could breathe again. And something other than rugby could make me happy.”

Magnolia’s thumb brushes over the top of my hand. “You don’t know how special that makes me feel.” She gives me this look—half awe, half ache. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said anything like that to me before.”

She looks at me like she’s trying to hold it together.

“I fell apart when I thought we were over. Nothing was helping. Not time, not therapy, not anything. Nothing could get me back to how I felt when I was with you.”

She says nothing, just listens. God, she’s always been so good at that. Not trying to fix anything. Not rushing in with hollow reassurances. Just sitting with me, holding the weight without flinching.

“It’s easier—so much easier—with you in my life. When you’re here, the noise in my head shuts the hell up. You make it better. All of it.”

Her fingers tighten around mine.

I sit back in my chair and stare down at my plate, no longer hungry. There’s something else I’ve been carrying, something heavier. And if I’m ever going to ask her for forever, she needs to know the whole truth.

“I never told you why I picked this surgeon in Dallas.”

Magnolia looks up, brows pinching together. Waiting. “I assumed it was because he was the best.”