I hated having to get on an airplane with a bunch of teammates and fly so far from home.

  I hated staying in a hotel, knowing the rest of my family was sleeping in hospital beds.

  I hated looking out into the crowd and seeing smiling, happy families while mine was falling apart.

  I hated that I couldn’t keep my head in the game. I was trained to keep my head in the game. I was trained to focus. I used to be able to block out everything else. It was one of my strengths. But now? Now the blocks were knocked down, and everything was a distraction. Crowds. Groupies. Media. I noticed everything now.

  “You alright, man?” Deuce asked after we went through team warm-ups.

  “Peachy,” I deadpanned as I picked up a football and started tossing it back and forth with Mason, trying to go through my normal pre-game routine.

  “Why don’t you have your Beats in?” he asked.

  “Can’t find them. Think they’re at the hospital.”

  “Do you want to use mine?” he offered. I avoided looking at him, knowing I was going to see concern written all over his face.

  “Nope. Doesn’t help anyway.”

  “Did you get any more updates today?”

  “Don’t wanna talk about it, Deuce. I’m trying to focus.”

  “Okay,” he said, hands up in a defensive pose as he backed away. “You know where to find me if you need me.”

  I nodded and threw the ball back to Mason, glad that he had taken over as one of my training partners. He never asked me questions or tried to talk to me about the shit-storm that had become my life. He talked shop with me, and that was it.

  I went through the rest of the pre-game warm-ups in a fog. My concentration level was shot, so I just went through the motions. Even Deuce’s attempts at pumping up the team in the locker room didn’t work on me. Usually, I was the first one in the mix. This time, though, it wasn’t happening. I was done. I didn’t have anything else to give except the bare minimum.

  “Hart!” Coach called as we all ran for the tunnel.

  “Yeah, Coach.”

  “You got your head in this game?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You know all that anger you’re feeling right now? How pissed off you are at everything going on around you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You know what to do with it. Focus and use it to your advantage.”

  I nodded and followed my team through the tunnel. The cheers unnerved me. The National Anthem unnerved me. They even ran the Hart to Heart public service announcement at one point, which unnerved me. I knew if I didn’t get my focus back and get some aggression out, I was liable to crack right here. During this game.

  By the second quarter, we were down by seven points. I wasn’t playing as well as I normally did, and I knew it. My teammates knew it too. So did the other team.

  We lined up on the thirty-seven-yard line when I came face to face with their offensive lineman, Brandon Gonzales. He was the same jackass who had insulted Addison a couple of years ago, pissing me off so bad it had led to the play of my life and a touchdown by yours truly.

  I smirked as I felt the aggression boil through me. If anyone could get me riled up and back in the game, it was him.

  “Got any more shit to say about my wife?” I taunted. He kept his eyes focused and wouldn’t look at me. “What’s the matter, douchebag? Afraid you’re gonna just piss me off and give me the energy I need to take you down?”

  He finally looked up at me, and I saw it. He wasn’t keeping his mouth shut because he was afraid it would feed my skill level. He was keeping his mouth shut out of pity.

  And that’s when I finally snapped.

  “What’s the matter? Don’t you have anything to say to me, mother fucker!” I yelled at him.

  I heard his quarterback yelling plays and felt everyone move around me. I knew in the back of my mind that I had a job to do and a play to follow through with, but I couldn’t get that part of me to catch up with the part that was so enraged.

  I went after Gonzales and got him down in a quick tackle. But instead of getting up and going after the quarterback, I stayed down, hands gripping his jersey, shaking him with all my might and screaming in his face. “What’s the matter, you big piece of shit? Don’t have anything to say? Too busy feeling sorry for me to do your job? Talk shit to me, mother fucker! DO YOUR FUCKING JOB!”

  I heard the whistles long after the play was over and finally felt myself being pulled off of him.

  “HART!” Coach yelled from the sidelines. “GET YOUR ASS OFF THE FIELD!”

  I ripped my helmet off my head and walked over to the bench, throwing my helmet at the water cooler before plopping myself down on the bench, head in my hands. I was trying desperately to control my breathing.

  “Mason! Get out there!” Coach yelled before turning on me. “I don’t know what the fuck that was out there, Hart, but if you can’t get your shit together, you won’t be stepping foot on that field. That just earned us a fifteen-yard penalty. You hear me!”

  I nodded but kept my head down. I was losing it, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  I made my way into Addison’s hospital room later that evening. Good thing it had been a morning game in San Francisco. No telling how late I would have been if we had played any later.

  “Hi babe,” I said with a smile as I leaned over to kiss her. “How are you?”

  “Mmm….I’m shaky and restless,” she answered. “But I’m hanging in there.”

  “Magnesium still making you shaky?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “But I’m okay.”

  “Did you watch the game?” I asked as I sat down and brushed her hair back behind her ear. I missed being close to her so badly. I couldn’t stop touching her if I tried.

  “I did,” she nodded. “But I figured I’d wait for you to bring it up before asking why you didn’t play the entire second half.”

  I shrugged, still kind of embarrassed about the whole thing. I wasn’t embarrassed about attacking Gonzales. He wasn’t known for being a nice guy on or off the field, so whatever. What I was embarrassed by was not doing my job the way I was supposed to. The way I was used to. I had let down my coaches, my team, and my fans. And now I realized I had let down my wife as well.

  “Jay,” she said, running her fingers through my hair. “You know they have really good chaplains here at the hospital. And therapists that work in conjunction with the oncology department.”

  I scoffed. “I don’t need therapy, Addison. I just needed to be with my family, okay? It was a bad game, that was all.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I just worry about you.”

  I smiled at her. “Thanks, babe,” I said, kissing her knuckles. “But stop. I’m the one taking care of you right now.”

  “Have you gone to see Jax yet?”

  I shook my head. “Mick is with him, so I wanted to come see you first. Did you talk to Dr. Bates while I was gone?”

  “No,” she said with a sigh. “Bri stopped by to give me an update though.”

  “And?”

  “No change. His counts keep fluctuating, but it’s not even close to where it needs to be.”

  “Shit,” I mumbled as I closed my eyes. “It’s been almost a month. I wonder if we’re gonna be changing his meds soon.”

  “I hope so,” she whispered. I looked at her as her eyes started to well up with tears.

  “Hey.” I put my arms around her and pulled her as close to me as I could get with the bed railing in the way. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

  “I haven’t seen him in a week, Jason. It’s killing me.” That’s when her sobs began. All I could do was hold her while she cried. It was an impossible situation. She was on mandated bed rest. He was too sick to even use the bathroom, so using a wheelchair to get to her was out of the question. There really was no solution for this situation.

  A short time later, Dr. Plunkett came into the room. She shot us a compassionate smile before sitting down.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked Addison.

  “Shaky. Restless. Terrified that I’m missing something important by being stuck here instead of in Jaxon’s room.”

  “Sounds about right,” Dr. Plunkett said. “Any unusual pain?”

  “Nothing I haven’t already told you about. Is there any way I’ll be getting out of here anytime soon?”

  “That’s actually what I came in here to talk to you about.” She pulled up Addison’s information on the computer before continuing her thought. “You’ve been here for about a week, so we’ve had a really good time frame to monitor you.”

  Addison nodded. “Yeah, there hasn’t been much alone time, that’s for sure.”

  “It can get pretty daunting. I recognize that.” She rolled away from the computer and over to Addison’s bedside. “The good news is that the baby seems to be doing well. He’s growing at a healthy rate. He’s not in distress. He’s doing fabulous.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. This was the one bit of good news we’d had in a long time.

  “That’s such a relief,” Addison said. “As long as he’s doing well, I can hang on until he’s big enough to be born.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that,” the doctor said. “The cerclage seems to be doing its job, but the only way it will keep working is if you stay on one hundred percent bed rest until it’s time to deliver.”

  “Is there any way I can be set up to do bed rest in Jaxon’s room?” Addison asked quickly. “I mean, I know that’s not standard procedure or anything, but we can see if they’ll move the recliner out and a cot in or something since the recliner won’t lay flat enough for me. We could do that, right? Instead of me going home?” she asked, seeming pleased by the idea. She had obviously thought it through while I was gone.

  “Well, that’s the thing,” Dr. Plunkett interrupted. “I can’t release you to go back home at this point.”

  “Why not? I…I don’t understand,” Addison said. “You just said the baby was healthy and the cerclage was holding.”

  “But your labor hasn’t completely stopped.”

  “She hasn’t had labor pains in a week, though,” I said, feeling really confused now.

  “That’s because of the magnesium,” she explained. “Every time we decrease the amount of magnesium to wean you off of it, your body shows signs that it’s going right back into labor. With a weak cervix, cerclage or not, we can’t risk taking you off the IV drip.”

  Addison’s head fell back onto the pillow as mine dropped forward. One step forward, three more steps back.

  “So I have to stay here, in this room, in this bed, away from my son, who is going through chemotherapy, so I can save a baby I’ve never met. Is that right?” Addison said quietly, her voice laced with anger.

  “I’m sorry,” Dr. Plunkett said. “I know this is not the news you were wanting. We’re going to start giving you steroid shots to help the baby’s lungs develop faster. I don’t anticipate you’re going to carry this baby to term, so we want to get him as ready as possible.”

  “Thanks, doc,” I said as Addison just stared at the ceiling.

  “You’re welcome.” She stood up and headed for the door. “I’ll come check on you again tomorrow. In the meantime, if you need anything, let me know.”

  I nodded at her as she left and turned back to Addison.

  “I know this is the world’s worst thing to say, and you might hate me for it,” she said, looking at me with a blank stare, “but I don’t know this baby. I love this baby, but I don’t know him. I know Jaxon. I feel like I have to choose between them. Either keep this one safe and lose Jax or be there for Jax and lose this one.”

  I tried to interrupt her, but she stopped me. “Jay, if they make me choose—if I have to choose between the two of them—I choose Jaxon. I don’t know this baby yet. I choose Jaxon.” Then she rolled over so her back was facing me, and I knew she had hit her limit too.

  Seeing her like this—defeated, angry, restless—it confirmed to me what I had to do.

  We had officially been backed into a corner. That meant the one thing I swore I would never give up for anything was about to be the biggest sacrifice I had ever had to make.

  “Thanks for meeting me today, Coach,” I said as I sat down in the hard chair across the desk from him. “I know it’s your day off.”

  He nodded. “It is, but frankly, after your performance yesterday, I was already anticipating your call.”

  I grimaced as I rubbed my hands down my face, gathering my thoughts. He was right about my performance. But we’d get to that later.

  “What’s the update, son? Tell me about your family. I need to know what’s going on before we get to the main part of this conversation.”

  I looked up and realized he probably already knew why I was here. So I told him everything.

  I told him about Jaxon’s chemo not working like last time. I told him how every time I went out of town I came back to a child that looked more and more sick. I told him about Addison’s labor, the steroids she was taking, and her mandatory hospitalization. I told him about the recliner I slept in every night and the spreadsheet my mother had tacked to a cork board in Jaxon’s room, telling me who was going to stay with him while I was at work. I told him how sick I was of seeing the pity in everyone’s eyes the minute I walked into the locker room and how much worse it was to know everyone was walking on eggshells around me.

  And I told him how when even Brandon Gonzales, who prided himself on his trash talk, wouldn’t look me in the eye without giving me a look of pity, I lost it. I laid it all on the line for Coach…everything that was happening and everything I was feeling.

  By the time I was done, there were tears streaming down my face and my voice was cracking when I spoke. I felt like the biggest pussy.

  He sat back and absorbed everything I had said before responding.

  “How much time off are you asking for, son?” he finally asked once I had pulled myself back together. He did know why I was here.

  “Ideally? The remainder of the season.”

  He nodded. “You realize you’re under a multi-year contract.”

  “Yes sir,” I answered. “Obviously, at minimum, Addison will be out of the hospital by next training camp. And, fingers crossed, Jaxon will be on the mend too. Don’t have a clue yet about the baby. We’ll take that as it comes.”

  He nodded again, steepling his fingers as he leaned against the desk. “I’ll put in a call with HR about how it affects your pay and all that. Since we’re only talking six weeks and the playoffs, I’m guessing it’ll fall under some sort of family/medical leave act or something.”

  I nodded.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s always possible the organization will want to renegotiate your contract instead, and that might not work in your favor.”

  “I know,” I said, feeling resolved. I loved football. But I loved my family more. After everything we had been through lately, there was nothing I was more sure of in my life. “But I need to be there with them. I’m the head of my household, and I have to do this. I don’t want it to cost me my career. I love my job. But I have to take that risk.”

  “I respect that,” he said, standing up and putting out his hand to shake mine. “And I’ll make sure the organization knows I’m in agreement with your decision. You’re stretched too thin, and this is keeping your priorities straight. Get through all this shit. I want you back for next season.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I said, shaking his hand. “Just have HR put in a call to Adam with any details they need to work out. I trust him with all my contracts. And I’m busy with a few things right now, so I’ll let him take care of that part.”

  “Will do. Give Addison a hug from me. We’ll keep praying, man.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  With that, I walked out the door.

  Next stop, the hospital.

  Where I had to tell my wife her husband was unemployed.

  “The good news,” Dr. Bates said, “is that his counts are relatively steady. They’re low. Much lower than we’d like, but they don’t appear to be dropping.”

  “What exactly does that mean?” Addison asked from her hospital bed. She wasn’t even allowed to leave her bed to go to the oncology wing for meetings about Jax’s treatment. Fortunately, Dr. Bates didn’t seem to have any qualms about coming to the maternity ward as needed.

  “It means that what little immune system he has is trying its darndest to fight the cancer cells,” he answered. “They’re not making much progress, but it’s definitely an impressive effort.”

  “And it gives the chemo a chance to do its job, right?” she asked hopefully.

  “Well, that’s the bad news,” he responded somberly and then sighed. “Jaxon’s body is no longer responding to any of the treatments.”

  “Shit,” I mumbled under my breath as I rubbed my hand down my face.

  “What do you mean he’s not responding?” Addison asked, starting to sound frantic. “So try another drug! There are lots of them out there. You just have to find the right one!”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” I said, reaching over and rubbing my hand down her hair. “Don’t panic yet, okay? Look at me, Addison.” She looked over, and I saw the panic that was setting in. “You know what Dr. Plunkett said about stressing your body out.”

  “But Jason—”

  “I know,” I interrupted her gently. “I know. But we haven’t heard everything he has to say yet. And we don’t want to have two boys in the hospital, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay, take a deep breath, baby,” I instructed, and I took a deep breath with her. “You okay?” She nodded. “You ready to hear more?” She nodded again.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Bates,” Addison said more calmly. “Apparently all the magnesium and everything else they’re giving me is heightening some of my anxiety. I feel so much more emotional than normal, so just ignore me when I start to panic.”

  Dr. Bates smiled at her as he fidgeted with the stethoscope around his neck. “I’m used to heightened anxiety, Addison. Please don’t think I find it a weakness. It’s part of the job when you work in oncology. As I was saying, Jaxon’s body isn’t responding to the chemo anymore. And at this point, we’ve maxed out all the available treatment options.”