Page 121 of Fighting Chance

Emmy’s eyes widen, darting around in alarm, and I realize as much of an amazing moment this is, our shocked reactions are ruining it.

Quickly kissing the top of her head, I continue cutting her sausages, her speech therapist’s words barreling down my mind, reminding me not to overreact. This is normal. Speaking has to remainnormal.

“How many pieces do you want?” I ask, but even I can hear the emotion thickening my throat.

Emmy holds her hand to her mouth, her little brows furrowing as she stares down at the plate.

Layla reaches over, her hand squeezing my knee under the table, and just that one small touch grounds me. I blink away my tears and focus.

Don’t fucking scare her!

“When’s your next game?” Layla asks, trying to get the table talking again, and I could kiss her for it because Emmy leans into me further, her voice a mere whisper as she says, “Six.”

Despite my best efforts to remain normal I can’t, my eyes burn, my throat right along with it. My baby’s talking to me. She’stalking.

“Six it is,” I whisper hoarsely, trying my fucking hardest not to cry like a baby.

She spoke.

She spoke to me.

And it’s over sausages! Thank you, sausage gods!

I will forever love sausages.

Emmy begins to munch on the said sausages as if she didn’t just reach out and clutch my heart in a vise.

Grayson’s voice is rough as he says, “Next Saturday.”

Bella clears her throat. “You should have Allie look after Emmy and come with us; we’re planning to go to the bar after.”

“Oh yes!” Cindy says. “Please, Layla, it’s so fun. You have to come.”

Layla looks up at me, the question dancing in her eyes and, fuck me, she could ask for anything in this moment and I’d hand it to her on a silver platter.

“Of course she’ll come.” Soaking in the small smile she gives me, I turn to Grayson. “Speaking of Allie and Carlton, how long are they in town for?”

Despite the conversation I’m submerged in I can’t stop a single thought from repeating.

She spoke to me, my baby girl spoke to me.

He rubs the nape of his neck. “Well…”

My brows rise. “No shit, are they thinking of moving here?”

Bella laughs. “How you can always tell what someone is thinking is a mystery.”

“A superpower,” I hear Layla murmur beside me.

My lips twitch at that.

Grayson nods, a spark in his gaze I’m beyond ecstatic to see. “They are. They want to keep their home though, and I agree. I don’t want them to get rid of the house Drew and I grew up in.”

Bella leans over, clasping his hand. “Grayson is thinking of surprising them,” she whispers, keeping her voice low so they don’t hear.

I peer halfway down the table where they’re fully engrossed in a conversation with Lukas Whitman and his wife, one of the older players on the team.

“Weare thinking of surprising them,” Grayson corrects.