TWO BONUS CHAPTERS
Extended HEA
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ABIGAIL
A YEAR AND A HALF LATER
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“Are you sure you have everything you need?” I ask my mom as I gather the kids’ toys and drop them in a basket.
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“We’re fine. Go have fun.” She winks at Nick, who’s patiently waiting for me in the doorway of the London hotel room.
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My dad lowers his newspaper where he’s going over the headlines with our daughter Janie, who’s cradled in the crook of his arm. She just turned one. “Where’s the trust?” my dad asks. “Granny and Grandpa have a whole afternoon of fun planned for the kids.”
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“Mommy, where are we going tonight?” Hazel jumps off the bed and wraps her arms around my leg. I swear, I’ll never get tired of hearing her call me that.
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She started calling me Mom last fall when we moved to Houston after Nick was drafted. (And that sportscaster was right—he got drafted in the first round and nabbed the Heisman.)
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At first, I was worried about how Cynthia and Charles would take hearing Hazel call me Mom, but they’ve only been supportive and kind. I told them they were always welcome to tell Hazel about Gemma. Hazel knows her biological mom is Gemma. I told her I’m honored to be her bonus parent.
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Nick scoops her up. “Gingersnap, tonight’s a surprise.”
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We’re taking her to ride the London Eye, which is a giant Ferris wheel that overlooks the city. I kiss her cheek. “I promise you’ll enjoy it. Why don’t you make me some artwork for my office?”
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She smiles. “Do you want some rainbows this time?”
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“That sounds great. You know I love lots of color.”
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As much as I wanted to teach after college, having two small children took most of my focus and energy. I taught that spring semester after I graduated while Nick prepped for the NFL combine and conditioned. I enjoyed it, but the whole day, I found myself waiting for when I could be home with Nick and Hazel.
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Turns out, I’m really good at making educational materials for young children. Some of the moms in our playgroups saw my activity book and asked for copies. So I started self-publishing educational books for kids, and I’m having a blast. The best thing is I can do that from home while nursing Janie. Being home has helped us give Hazel more stability since her dad has to travel so much during the season.
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After I hug Hazel and kiss the baby and double-check she has enough breast milk, Nick drags me out of the hotel room.
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“They’ll be fine,” he assures me as we hop in our rental car.
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I close my eyes because I can’t handle driving on the wrong side of the street. “So you’re not telling me where we’re going?”
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“I’ll give you a clue. It’s an hour and a half away.”
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I crack open my lids to side-eye him. “That could be anywhere.”
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He chuckles, grabs my hand, and kisses the inside of my wrist. “Patience, buttercup.”
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When city streets turn into suburban roads and lush green hills, I realize it doesn’t matter where we’re going. With the windows down and the fresh air breezing through the car, I’m happy. As exciting as Nick’s first NFL season was, as proud of him as I was for getting Rookie of the Year, I’m grateful to have this quiet downtime with my favorite person.
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There’s really no place I want to visit except…
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I gasp. “Are we going to Jane Austen’s house?”
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Nick’s thousand-watt smile makes my heart go pitter-patter. “Yup.”
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Giddy, I hop up and down in my seat. I’m so excited, I forget to be afraid of the oncoming traffic. “Are you serious?”
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“Why do you think I read Pride and Prejudice last year?”
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“Because it’s a great work of literature?”
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“Because I wanted to see what Jane Austen was all about since you love her so much. And since I love you, the things you find important are important to me.”
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My throat tightens. “Nick.” I wave my hand in my face so my eyes don’t tear up.
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He chuckles and laces our fingers together. “It took me a while to figure out what all of her fancy language meant, but it was a pretty cool romance. Not as cool as ours, but how can anyone top us?”
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“No one has a romance as great as ours, but if you’re any sweeter, I might need you to put another baby in my belly, and I think we have our hands full right now, so cut it out.”
I love the smile that puts on his face.
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Nick and I have come a long way since I was his nanny. We both got therapists to work through our baggage, and I’m happy to say we’ve never been stronger as a couple. He’ll probably always be concerned about my safety and our children, so I do my best to reassure him and avoid anything excessively risky. I also talk to him if I’m feeling insecure instead of jumping to conclusions. He knows he can’t control everything, and he’s learning to enjoy life more instead of worrying so much.
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When we get to Jane Austen’s house, Nick has me wait in the lobby while he talks to the tour guide. I think he wants to know where we can do lunch. After that, we take the full tour. By the time we’re done, I’m filled to the brim with interesting details about my favorite author.
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Afterward, we sit on a little bench in her garden.
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Nick has his arm wrapped around my shoulder, and I’m drowsily snuggled into him. “This was amazing. Thank you.”
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“I figured next season might be even busier than last year, so I wanted to bring you here before our lives got crazier.” He kisses my forehead. “You know you mean the world to me, right?”
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“I’m mildly obsessed with you too.”
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“Only mildly?”
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“Well, if the truth be known, I’m just shy of stalker-level in love with you.”
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He laughs and squeezes me tight. “Close your eyes. I have a surprise for you.”
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“Another one?” I sit up and look at him. “What is it? I don’t think anything can beat coming here.”
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“We’ll see about that. Close your eyes. Don’t cheat.”
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“Yes, sir.” I comply.
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He scoots away, and a minute later, he says, “Open them.”
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I blink into the bright sun, but he’s no longer next to me.
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He’s holding a Scrabble board as he kneels in front of me. The Scrabble tiles read, “WILL YOU MARRY ME?”
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“Oh my God!”
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Nick sets down the board and takes my hand in his. “In the words of Mr. Darcy, ‘You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,’ Abigail Dawson.” He kisses my wrist again. “You’ve captured my heart and soul. What is mine is yours, starting right here,” he says, putting his hand on his chest. “But can I give you one more thing? Can I give you my last name? Will you marry me?”
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I sniffle. “I’d be honored to be your wife.”
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Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a small, velvet black box.
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When he opens it, I gasp. “That’s beautiful.”
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“A princess ring for my princess.” He slides it on my finger. “I would’ve done this sooner, but I wanted to take you somewhere special.”
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Launching off the bench, I toss my arms around him. “I’m going to make you so happy.”
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Dipping his head, he gently grazes my lips with his. “You already do.”
NICK
SIX YEARS LATER
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“Can we watch it, Daddy?” Janie, our seven-year-old daughter, asks as she tries to gobble down spaghetti.
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Abby hands her another napkin and whispers, “Sweetheart, don’t talk while you’re chewing.”
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“Sorry, Mom. But can we watch it again? You’re so beautiful in that video. And Hazel is so pretty, and I love the dresses and that part where she yells.”
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Ah, yes. That part. I chuckle.
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Hazel buffs her nails on her t-shirt. “I was a pretty good flower girl, if I do say so myself.”
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Leaning back in my seat, I nod. “Hazel was the perfect flower girl, and your mother was gorgeous. She still is.” Abby blushes and gives me that sweet smile I never get tired of seeing. “What do you say, buttercup? Want to watch our wedding for the third time this month?” Our three older daughters are obsessed with it.
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“Sure. Let me clean up the baby and tidy up the kitchen first.”
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“I’ll clean up Emma and deal with the kitchen. Go relax. I’ll bring y’all some ice cream.”
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“Really?”
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I get up and lean over to kiss her. “Yes.” I serve up a tray of ice cream and drop that off in the living room before I grab baby Emma out of her highchair. “Look at you. How did you get spaghetti sauce everywhere?”
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Her little blonde curls are sticking straight up, thanks to a glob of marinara. She grins. “Yum.”
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“Was that tasty?” I kiss her chubby cheek and take her to the kitchen to give her a quick cleanup. She needs a bath, but I wanna hang out with my girls for a bit before we get the little ones to bed. I’ll be gone all day tomorrow for my game, so I try to make the most of family nights.
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When I’m done, Emma and I join Hazel, Lizzy, and Janie, who are curled up on the couch with Abby, enjoying their desserts.
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I drop down to the floor in front of Abby, and she runs her hand through my hair. “We can make room for you and the baby on the couch.”
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“We’re fine.” Emma happily bounces in my lap. Once I get her seated, I grab Abby’s hand and kiss it. “Who’s got the clicker?”
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Someone passes the remote, and I cue up our wedding video.
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“Doesn’t Daddy look so handsome in his tux?” Abby asks as she pets our dark tabby cat, Knightley.
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“Super handsome,” Lizzy says.
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“Thank you, ladies. It’s nice to have a personal fan club.”
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They giggle, but it’s true. Wherever I go, whatever I do, I know my girls have my back, just like I have theirs.
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The camera pans to the back of the church where Cynthia and Gail walk down the aisle, carrying Janie, who was almost two at the time. Cynthia joins her husband and my father on one side, and Gail and Janie sit on the bride’s. My dad’s smiling so wide.
I finally got the old geezer to retire, but since he wouldn’t let me buy him a house, we built him a casita in our backyard. He loves being so close that he can see his granddaughters every day. He’s back there right now, lounging in my pool and enjoying a beer.
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Our two-year-old waves at the videographer.
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“Aww,” Abby says. “Look at our little Janie.”
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The bridesmaids traipse down the aisle, and finally Hazel tosses flower petals.
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I shoot her a grin and hold up my hand for a high five. “Look at that perfect flower distribution.”
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“Thank you. I practiced for a week.”
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Abby squishes her in a hug. “You were the best flower girl in the history of flower girls.”
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“Thanks, Mom.”
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But the woman who steals the show is my wife. When she steps to the back of the church with her dad, my heart kicks in my chest, almost the same way it did that day. Her blonde hair is piled high on her head with lots of curls, and a beautiful veil trails behind her. She’s wearing a big, poofy white dress that makes her look like a princess. No lie, she looks like she jumped out of one of the girls’ fairy tales, she’s that beautiful.
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I’m such a lucky man. Because not only is she a gorgeous woman, she’s the best mother to the girls and a phenomenal wife. My life is what it is because I married my best friend.
She must know how I’m feeling because she wraps her arms around my neck from behind and rests her head against mine. “I’d marry you all over again,” she whispers.
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I turn and kiss her. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
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As we watch ourselves say our vows, I hear a few sniffles behind us. I glance back and see Lizzy wiping her eyes. “Y’all are just so cute!”
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I chuckle and hand her the box of tissues. She has her mama’s soft heart.
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In all the years we’ve been together, Abby’s never had another rash of bad luck like she did the semester she nannied for me. I don’t know if it was thanks to Baylee’s sage ritual or God or a turn of good luck, but I’m grateful. Abby says all of those bad incidents only pushed us together, which is true.
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“This is my favorite part,” Lizzy says.
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I smile when the minister asks me, “Do you, Nick, take Abby as your lawful wife?” and little Hazel shouts, “Say yes, Daddy!” which makes the audience crack up.
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But my favorite part is where I dip my wife and kiss the daylights out of her. Then I scoop her up in a bridal hold, whisper in her ear, and walk back down the aisle while everyone cheers.
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“That’s how you do it,” I tell my girls. “But remember, no one’s dating ’till you’re forty.”
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“Aww, Dad,” Hazel grouses, and her sisters giggle.
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Janie nudges my shoulder. “What did you tell Mom? When you picked her up?”
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I smile at Abby. “I told her, ‘In your books, this part is called the happily ever after.’”
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“Your dad is so swoony,” Abby says before she leans down to kiss me.
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Lizzy sighs. “That’s dreamy. I wish I could’ve been in your wedding.”
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“Me too,” says Janie.
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“But you were there,” Lizzy says.
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“I was there, but I wasn’t in it, like a flower girl. I was two. I don’t remember anything except Mom’s white dress.”
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I turn to smile at my wife. “Maybe someday Mommy and I can renew our vows, and then you can all be in the ceremony.”
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Abby’s eyes go shiny. “Oh, honey, I’d love that.”
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My daughters all agree it’s a great idea and immediately start planning their outfits.
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That night, we scurry around the house bathing children and getting them tucked into bed. By the time we’re done, we’re both tuckered out.
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“Want to take a bath with me?” Abby asks. “I know how much you love washing my hair.”
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This is her way of telling me she’s too tired to wash it herself. I lean down and kiss her. “It’d be my pleasure.”
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By the time I’m done, her eyes are so heavy, she can barely keep them open, so I scoop her out, dry her off, and tuck her into bed. Bathtime used to mean hot sex, and now it means taking care of this beautiful woman after long days with the kids. Of course, we still find time just for ourselves.
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My father helps out a lot, and Abby’s parents sold their home and moved down the street, so they babysit often. Sometimes Cynthia and Charles visit and take the girls out to dinner so Abby and I can have a quiet night.
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After I crawl in bed and spoon my beautiful sleeping wife, I remind myself about tomorrow’s game and think through our offensive plans. It’s funny that football used to be my entire life. Now my wife and children are my whole world, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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The next day, I’m at the stadium, warming up for our game, when I spot my little crew. My girls are all decked out in Silva jerseys. I trot over to the sidelines to greet them.
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Abby holds up Emma, and I kiss her cheek. Then I lean down to hug Hazel, Janie, and Lizzy before I smooch my wife. “Hello, buttercup.”
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She glares at my opponents. “It’s a good day for football, darling. Take no prisoners.”
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“Kick booty, Dad!” Janie shouts.
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Lizzy throws some shadow punches. “Go for the jugular.”
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Hazel nods. “Stomp them into the ground.”
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“Vicious.” I chuckle.
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“That’s right,” my wife says as she grabs my jersey and presses up on her toes to kiss me again. “Go hard or go home.”
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I lean down to whisper in her ear, “Oh, we’re going hard later.”
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Her face turns a bright red as she bites her lower lip, but her eyes go flirty. “It’s a date.”
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When I win my game, of course I’m elated, but I know that’s not what gives my life meaning. It’s my five beautiful women at home who appreciate me whether or not I get the victory.
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And when I make love to my gorgeous wife that night, I know nothing compares to what she and I have. Not even football.
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