Redemption

THIS IS WHAT YOU'RE MEANT TO DO

There's a blanket of snow covering the field. While the flakes get chunkier, my makeup artist continues misting my face with setting spray, promising the foundation won't budge while I'm reporting. I wouldn't mind if it did. Nothing would ruin this for me. There's nothing I love more than football in the snow.

From my fitting room, I watch fans fill the stadium. The Philadelphia Hawks are on their sell-out tour. For the first time since the early 2000s, the Hawks have sold out every home game. They're projected to win the Super Bowl. It's something they've never done before, and people want to be on the right side of history.

The fan's dedication to their team doesn't go unnoticed. Every win, they fill the streets and celebrate. This team brought back pride to these Philly streets. None of it goes unappreciated.

They've been tailgating since last night. People bring out their grills, firing up food for their neighbors. It's one big get-together. A family reunion. A time when everybody feels equal. It's the reason why I love my job – for just twenty-four hours, we leave our problems behind. Everything we worry about goes silent. For once, we're not in our heads. We're celebrating our home team, screaming our heads off, enjoying life.

Philadelphia represents everything I love about football.

It's also home to Carter James. The number one tight end in the league.

I'm not sure what I expected for us, but after writing that letter, we talked on the phone. He said he blamed himself for what happened that night. After coming to the agreement that separation is what we needed, we haven't talked. All conversation ended. I haven't heard from him since.

Something told me it'd happen. While I'd hope our paths would cross, they never did. And I never fell in love again after that. It felt wrong to. Falling in love with somebody other than Carter never felt right, so I never did. I've been content with the life I created. Even if it meant missing him.

This will be my first time covering Philadelphia.

It will be my first time seeing him in over five years.

"Sawyer," Elliot enters my room. "You're on in forty-five minutes."

I looked one last time in the mirror. I'm nothing like what I remember. I'm the woman I would've looked up to. I'm doing this for the six-year-old girl who thought dying was better than living.

This is for us.

"I'm ready," I turned to my assistant. "Where are we heading to first?"

"We're setting up with Rory," she leads me down a hallway. "He'll get you set up on the mic before we go live."

"We're set to air at noon, right?"

"Correct," she hands me a pair of gloves. "Would you like a coffee? Jeff is at the shop now."

"Please," I begged. "I'd die for a coffee right now."

A hearty laugh fell from her lips. "We can't have you dying before you go on air."

"You're a life saver. Literally," I held onto her shoulder as I adjusted my boots. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'll go see if Rory is ready," she waited until I was done to move. "Stay here. We wouldn't want you to freeze before the heaters are ready!"

I watched her disappear down the tunnel. There's a bright light at the end. I can't see anything beyond the snow, but I know there's something waiting for me. It's the start of something new.

As the happiness builds in my stomach, I look around and realize this is what I get for choosing myself. This is what I got to experience because I chose life. I close my eyes, and in the back of my head, I can hear the little girl giggling. I promised her we wouldn't give up, and we didn't.

"Sawyer! Everything is set up," Elliot calls from the end of the tunnel. "Are you ready?"

I sucked in a deep breath. "Five more minutes, please."

"Of course."

I felt the lump in my throat thicken. All of this felt too real. I've never dreamt of things being this perfect. It's almost too good to be true. As tears welled in the corners of my eyes, I used the end of my coat to dab them away, hoping I could keep it together during this broadcast. With the last of my time, I pulled out my phone. 

"Sawyer? Aren't you about to go on air?" 

I let out a sigh of relief. "Can I not call my brother on Christmas Eve to tell him I love him?" 

"Of course you can," he chuckled. "You know I love hearing from you." 

"Can you believe it? I'm in Philadelphia today and I'll be back in Chicago tomorrow," I fell against the cement wall behind me. "Christmas Eve here and Christmas with you." 

"I'm so proud of you, Sawyer," he murmurs. "I know you've spent so much of your life wondering where you fit in, I'm happy you found your place. This is what you're meant to do." 

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Thank you, Fletch." 

"Now go before you start crying," he teased. "I love you, Sawyer." 

"I love you too." 

He's right. This is what I'm meant to do. Nothing brings me more happiness than being on the sidelines of football games. This is the only thing that, when I do it, I don't feel like I should be doing something else. When I'm on the field, everything goes away. For the next few hours, I'm somewhere else. 

With one last look down the tunnel, I take a deep breath. I let the Philadelphia air chill my throat. I can barely hear my thoughts over the sixty-nine thousand fans cheering for their team. Everyone is ready for kick-off. 

Just as I round the corner, ready to meet my assistant, my body collides with somebody. I nearly fell to the ground. I brace myself for the embarrassment. But while I wait for the impact, an arm is around my waist, steadying me back on my feet. 

My eyes fluttered open, finding a Forrest Green jersey staring back at me. The number 87 was printed on the front in bright white. I didn't need to look up to see who caught me, but I did, and I found the brown-eyed boy I fell in love with all those years ago staring back at me.

My lips parted, a ghost of air entering the atmosphere. "Carter."

"Hello, Sawyer."