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"To Alaska," she explains. "She convinced Kent to put her on the team—rush the hire, all the things. She's gonna take my spot there."

My mouth drops open.

"And because she's leaving…" she continues, leaving room for me to finish.

It clicks, and my pulse quickens. "A spot just opened up for a nurse in Golden City?"

She nods, grinning. "For the three months she's gone. I'll try to find something more permanent while I'm still here, but…" She swallows. "It buys us time."

Us.

My eyes wander the stadium, letting her words sink in. Somehow they land on the once empty seat next to my parents. It's filled now—a guy wearing a Gators hoodie and a backwards hat with a bucket of popcorn in his lap—but it feels filled in other ways too.

Ones much more significant.

I bring my eyes back to hers and kiss her again. "That's awesome, Len. How the hell did she pull that off?"

Lenny huffs out a breath and shakes her head. "Ya know, with Dylan, I've learned it's sometimes best to not ask questions."

"I really like that girl," I chuckle.

She laughs back, and then a whistle from the dugout calls me in.

I look over my shoulder to find Skip waiting, giving me a look a Dad would give his son.

I nod in understanding, but before I go, I face Lenny again and tug her closer. "So, just to be absolutely clear… You're definitely—"

"I'm staying."

"Because you want to?"

"So much."

I cock one brow. "And not just for me…"

"For me," she says definitively, tipping her chin down. Then, she puts her hand on my cheek. "But also for us."

Peace washes over me that I haven't felt since I was a kid. Happiness. Wholeness.

"I love you, Lenny girl," I say, leaning into her touch. "I never stopped fucking loving you."

Her hand slides to the back of my neck as she smiles. "I changed almost everything about me, Jace. But the one thing that never wavered was how in love with you I am."

I press my lips to hers one more time—finally feeling like I don't have to make it last.

She's not going anywhere.

I squeeze her hand one more time before fully letting go, and backing toward the dugout.

Lenny laughs, smiling—shaking her head like all of this is still a little unreal.

Because it is.

"I'll see ya, baby," I say, before I turn around.

I take two steps before I reach the stairs, then glance at her again before stepping into the dugout.

She's still there.