My dad was at my wedding, sober. A few months after he left Nashville, he came back, took one look at me and Giselle in my penthouse, and wept. I think . . . he saw my happiness, my contentedness, my deep love for a woman who adored me right back. He saw that I had something real, admiration mixed with devotion, respect, and commitment. He never had that. Eventually, a few months later, he let me pay for rehab, got straight, and moved back into his house. He’s his own man and makes his own way. He might slip, yeah, but we’ll deal with it together, me and Giselle and our family.

I walk into our spacious closet, and when I see there’s no mask-wearing wife, I shake my head. “She’s slipping,” I murmur. After throwing on joggers and a hoodie, I pad down the hall and open the nursery door as quietly as I can, tiptoeing in on Gabriel Kennedy, our one-year-old son. His thumb is in his pouty mouth, and I tuck the covers around him, my heart swelling.

After slipping out, I pad into the bright kitchen, my eyes searching for her. Not in the den that overlooks the rolling hills of Daisy. Nerves hit as I grab the pics from a drawer in the desk. I can’t wait to show her. After shoving my feet into sneakers, I head outside and jog the yards to her office, the barn we renovated as we built the house.

When I slide open the doors, her tattoo winks at me from her skinny jeans as she reaches up to a shelf, organizing her books. Three bestsellers for my baby. I grin. Always knew she’d do it. The baby monitor sits next to her laptop, the sound of Gabriel’s soft snores reaching my ears. After easing up behind her, I kiss her neck, and she melts against me, sliding her arms up and tangling in my hair.

“You left me,” I growl.

“I had to get work done before the baby wakes up.” She laughs and turns around, her hair down and thick, the color silver and gold. It’s been a few different colors, but her original is my favorite.

She kisses me, and I’m lost in her all over again, just like the first time.

“I have a gift for you,” I say against her lips.

“And it’s not even my birthday. Is it what’s in your pants?”

“That’s free anytime you want it.” Anxiousness hits as I show her the pics in my hand, then spread them out on her desk.

She gasps. “Devon, is that . . . a villa . . .” She stops, her finger moving to the next house. “And that one . . . where is this?”

“That one’s an apartment in the Saint Jean neighborhood, nice enough at three million. Four thousand square feet and a pool with a view of the lake. The real estate person says the sunsets are spectacular.” I wrap my arms around her from behind. “The villa is my favorite, though, just under five mill, with a view of the Alps, six bedrooms, a renovated kitchen, and a garden—but you get to pick.”

She blinks. “You want to buy a house in Geneva, Switzerland? For just under five million?” Her voice is incredulous. “I mean, you’ve joked about it, but . . .”

Just testing you, baby. And your eyes lit up when I brought it up.

“I have plenty of money, and so do you. I have the best life any man could ask for: a beautiful woman, a baby, and so much love that some days I wake up and have to look around and think . . . damn, is this really me?”

“A villa?”

“Come on, baby, this is a gift. I’m giving you a part-time home in Geneva. If you don’t like these, we’ll pick out more and fly over and make a decision.” I pause. “I’m giving you all your favorite universes.”

“Devon . . . you . . . God . . . I love you,” she chokes out as she turns around.

I kiss her. “You have your doctorate, and Susan has already checked with CERN—”

“What! She hasn’t said a word to me!” She and Susan have become close friends. Giselle isn’t a full-time faculty member, preferring to teach one class a week until Gabriel is older. She goes to every home game, most of the away ones, a laptop bag over her arm so she can write, a baby in her arms. Elena is tagging right along with her, her two girls in tow.

“Don’t blame her; this is on me, my idea. She and I have been talking about how to get you to CERN.”

She gapes.

“She said they’d be thrilled to have you come in, meet the researchers, and check out the place behind closed doors, hug the LHC, make out with it, lick it—that might sting, but whatever gets you hot.”

She shakes her head at me.

I pause, this part really making me nervous. I’m springing this on her, and she can always say no, and that will be cool, but I just want her to have fucking everything. “She mentioned there’s open interim teaching positions there, from January to May, for their winter term. It’s a temporary job, usually filled by students, and that’s where you rock, baby—all those kids adore you. It’s mostly the off-season for me, so Gabriel and I can come with you after the playoffs in January.” I arch my brow and let the words hang for a moment as her mouth opens and shuts.

“What if I don’t get the job? What will we do with a house in Europe?”

I shrug. “Vacation home for us—rent it out, make a ton of money. I can’t play football forever, and as long as you’re with me, any country works. We can settle there someday or fly back and forth between homes. It’s a pretty place to write your next book.” I tangle my hands in her hair. “Where you go, I go.”

She blinks, tears shining in her eyes.

I kiss her softly. “Bring your mama and aunt. I’m sure the whole lot of them will want to come stay for a while. Jack and Elena and their girls, Topher and Quinn, Aiden, Myrtle and John, my dad—we’ll fill it up. We can hang around, check out the city, and if you don’t want the job—I know they’ll hire you in a snap—then we’ll do the regular tour, and I’ll sneak you into the room with your particle accelerator.”

“You are crazy,” she breathes, and I smile at the stars in her eyes.

“Nah, just in love with the smartest, most beautiful girl in the world.”

She laughs. “I’m deliriously happy. I don’t need a villa”—her eyes linger on the pic—“or CERN.”

“Baby, I’d give you the whole world if I could. What’s a house in Europe?”

Several moments pass as we stare at each other, and I smile knowingly. “Level-five gaze. I know what that means,” I say and ease her shirt up and off her head. “Somebody wants my body.”

Five minutes later, she’s undressed, I’m naked, and we’re rolling around in the room off to the side, a place with a big plush bed she had put in here for stolen moments like this. I’m staring down at her under me, her hands pinned above her head as I slide inside her and kiss her. She whispers that she’ll take the villa and that she’ll think about the job. I laugh and promise her that I’ll always be with her, no matter where she is, that she’ll always have my love, my soul, my everything.