“Did you talk to Gavin or Brayden today?” IaskedMyla.
She pursed her lips. “Only a little while they were at the airport. I hate that we couldn’t be there.” She rubbed her belly. Her doctor had given her strict rules about not flying this late in her pregnancy, and I knew it was eating her up that she couldn’t be there to support her husband andbrother.
“At least we will be there for gameseven.”
I put my hand on her shoulder as she signed. “Yeah, thatistrue.”
The game wasn’t even close and the Otters had only one more victory standing in the way of them being Stanley Cup champions. As the buzzer sounded for the end of the game, we all leapt to our feet to high-five and hug. Myla was hystericallycrying.
“Honey, are you all right?” Simon pulled her intohisside.
“It’s the hormones. I am just so fuckinghappy.”
Even though the Otters had made it to the playoffs over the last couple of years, this was the closest they had come to actually winning the Stanley Cup in God knowshowlong.
After Myla and I said goodbye to everyone, we crawled intoherbed.
“I am so thankful to have you as a friend. Did you know that?” She sniffled with her head already resting on thepillow.
“You’re so sappy with all those damn hormones swimming around in that tiny body ofyours.”
“Fuck, I know!” she wailed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I am constantly a wreck. Will you please remind me of this if I ever get the awful idea of havinganotherbaby?”
“Sure thing, love.” I turned out the light and made myselfcomfortable.
“Do you love him?” Myla asked beforeyawning.
“Who,Will?”
I could hear her head moving against the pillow and assumed she wasnodding.
“Ido.”
“You need to tell him,” shewhispered.
“Why is that?” Iasked.
“Because there’s no point in waiting. If you love someone, don’t you want them toknowit?”
I couldn’t argue with the sound logic of an overly emotional pregnant lady. “You’reright.”
“You should text him right now andtellhim.”
“Don’t you think I should say it in person for thefirsttime?”
Myla’s hand landed on my side. “You can say it to him again when he gets home in the morning. You can say it every day, all day, until the day you die, and youshould.”
“If I didn’t know better, I would say you were fuckingdrunk,Myla.”
She giggled. “Yeah, I would think the same thing if I heard my crazy ass right now, but you know I’m right. Grab your phone and text that stud of a goalie. Tell him you love him and want to have tons of sexybabies.
“Go to bedcrazylady.”
“Fine, but I better hear you typing on your damn phone within the next minute or I am not going to shut upaboutit.”
“All right,youwin.”
It was something that I had been wanting to say, but I was too chicken-shit to do it. Myla was right. What was the point in waiting another minute to tell the man I loved that I loved him. He deservedtoknow.