A shiver racked through me. "I love you too, D."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

His hand moved from my belly to rest on my cheek. "My second chance with you."

"Thank you," I replied, reaching up to cover his hand with mine.

He frowned. "For what?"

"My second chance at life," I offered, my voice barely more than a breathy whisper.

His green eyes burned with tenderness and he leaned in close. "I'll always save you, Dolly." Stroking my nose with his, he pressed a tender kiss to my lips. "You call and I'll come running. Always."

A shudder rolled through me, and my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest with love for this boy. "We're gonna be okay, aren't we, D?"

"Yeah, Dolly," Daryl replied, kissing me again. "We're gonna be just fine."

Epilogue

Alabama

Nine months later

Molly

"Look, Sawyer," I cooed, bouncing my healthy baby boy on my lap while adjusting the little ear defenders that protected my son from the screaming fans around us. "Look at your daddy go."

Clad in a miniature version of his father's jersey, Sawyer sucked on his chubby little hand, entirely unimpressed with the game unfolding in front of him.

Give it time, I thought to myself with a smile.

I had spent the majority of my life watching Daryl King from the sidelines or stands as he navigated his way through the ranks of his beloved game.

As a child, I watched him play in the peewee leagues, and knew that even at the tender age of nine, he was going to light up the world someday.

As a teenager, I had believed that even more.

But now, as a young woman, I felt pretty freaking smug as I sat in the stands of our college's football stadium, watching on as Daryl King threw one hell of a pass.

Screaming erupted around us, and I beamed with pride.

A mixture of awe and sheer adoration racked through my body as I watched him work his magic.

The spotlight was shining on the man I called my husband.

The man who was barely a boy when he ran into a burning house to pull me to safety, and barely a man when he held my hand in the delivery suite three weeks before our high school graduation when our son was born.

Like his father before him, the football field was a place Daryl always shone the brightest.

But unlike his father, Daryl proved that a person could be both.

Be more.

And have it all.

Watching him now, knowing that he had become everything he promised he would, and still managed to remain the same… well, it was incredibly humbling.

He looked into stands then, eyes locking with mine, and I knew in that moment that I would never not be in love with the boy across the street.

Thank you so much for reading Waiting Game!

I really hope that you enjoyed Molly and Daryl's story.