Grabbing Lorenzo’s arm before he had a chance to respond, they both hurried out.

“I’ll see you there, Rose.” Grace called out. “Good luck, and don’t worry. You got this!”

Rose jumped in the back seat and started with her shin guards and socks. “I can’t believe I forgot. But I guess this week has been a crazy one.” Rose had given up trying to rid the dull ache from her heart. She’d accepted now. It was never going away.

“Was your coach mad?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “He’s always mad.”

She rummaged through her bag looking for the right color socks and jersey. By the time they got to the stadium, Rose was in her complete uniform. Over the years she’d gotten pretty good at changing without ever having to be completely naked or show skin. She could slip her jersey over her shirt then pull the shirt out from underneath. She was even able to change from her regular bra to the right-colored sports bra the same way.

Stuffing her things in her bag quickly, she jumped out of the car as soon as Lorenzo pulled over. “Thanks so much,” she stuck her head in the passenger side window. “Will you be at the game?”

“You bet. You better kick some ass.”

She smiled, wondering how long it would be, if ever, before Lorenzo’s smile and the twinkle in his piercing eyes stopped reminding her of Vincent.

Just as she began to pull away from the window, Lorenzo called out to her. “Rose.”

She turned back and looked at him. “Remember, think positive.”

Taking a deep breath, she smiled. “I will. I promise.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The crowd was probably one of the largest they’d ever had. Sadly girl’s college soccer never drew in large crowds, but being the finals, there was a full house today. Rose’s family took up a better portion of the bleachers.

They’d all come out to see her game again. It surprised Rose that Sal was okay with letting the managers do their jobs and actually manage the restaurants, so the owners didn’t have to be there all the time. Grace said he was getting better about letting others handle things. Now that he was going to have two kids, Rose could see him changing. It was a gradual change, but it was progress.

Rose concentrated on the game though inevitably her mind would wander off to thoughts of Vincent and where he could possibly be. Was he still alive? Was he injured? She’d gone over all the horrible possibilities all week. But she’d promised Lorenzo, and she really did want to believe that if she thought nothing but positive thoughts, it really would help. It seemed so farfetched—that he was alive and well and coming home to her.

She played harder than she ever had, giving it everything in her. Taking advantage of her angst, she used the game to let out the pent-up anger—releasing all the emotion she wanted to just scream out, because life was so damn unfair. She even got a yellow card for slamming one of the forwards down too hard. It was another one she thought she’d played fairly—all body. But she admitted she probably didn’t need to slam against her that hard.

By the time it was over, she felt more drained than she typically was after a game. They won, and she sat in the middle of the field on the grass with her other teammates now as the coach gave them the after-game speech and talked a little about the next game in the finals.

Rose had looked over on the sidelines and saw everyone waiting for her anxiously earlier. The coach better hurry up. Grace hadn’t mentioned it, but she was certain there’d be some kind of gathering they’d all be anxious to get to and start celebrating. Even though as good as it felt to win, she was still in no mood to celebrate. She was even worried Lorenzo might be insulted by their celebrating because of the circumstances. She looked up from the grass she’d been pulling away at when she heard Alison gasp.

“What?” Alison and now Candace were both staring behind Rose, so Rose turned to see what had them so startled.

Her jaw fell open, and she was immediately choked up. At first she thought it was a vision. She stared at him for a moment before shakily standing up. He was far, but it was him. She wasn’t seeing things. Vincent stood on the sidelines in his fatigues staring at her—waiting for her.

Rose’s trembling hands were now at her mouth, and she fell apart crying into them as she started toward him. “There is a God,” she whispered to herself as she began walking faster. “There is a God!” she said even louder now. His arm was in a sling, but otherwise, he was a glorious sight. Walking even faster, she broke out into a sprint as she got closer. Mindful of his injured arm, she wrapped her arms around his neck as soon as she reached him, sobbing against his chest. Holding on for dear life—she’d never let go again.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” she told him in between sobs over and over again.

“I love you, too, Rosie.”

She continued to cling to him, crying like a baby and holding on to his clothes with clenched fists, afraid he’d disappear if she didn’t.

Still barely able to catch her breath, she pulled away to look at him, wiping the tears now streaming down his face, too. Then she wiped her own because they were completely blurring her vision. “Let me look at you, Vincent,” she said swallowing hard. “It’s really you. You’re really here.” She leaned her face into his chest, unable to contain the emotion that just poured out. It felt so unreal she had to look up at him again. “But how? When did you get here?”