Chapter 140: Hundred and Forty

Saturday mornings were supposed to feel easy, but somehow they never did.

Noah’s soccer games had become the main event of our weekends lately, just half an hour of chaos. I loved it, though. Watching him throw himself into the game with so much earnest energy made me proud in a way nothing else could.

Still, today felt strange. It was our first game since we separated. There was a lump in my throat. Maybe it was because Jacob was the one carrying the fold-out chairs, his jaw tight, his silence thicker than usual. Maybe it was because I couldn’t stop thinking about Declan, and how Noah had practically invited him with that little-boy enthusiasm earlier in the week: “You should come see me play next time! I’m really fast.”

I hadn’t thought Declan would actually show up.

But then, midway through warm-ups, I spotted him at the far end of the field. Hands in his pockets, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, scanning the chaos until his gaze landed on us. On me.

My heart stuttered.

Noah saw him a split second later. His whole face lit up like fireworks. “MOM! DECLAN CAME!! HE REALLY CAME!!”

And before I could stop him, Noah bolted across the grass, nearly tripping over a ball in his rush to throw himself at Declan.

Jacob followed the scene with a sharp inhale. His grip on the chair handles tightened, knuckles white, but he didn’t say anything.

Declan crouched down, catching Noah in an easy hug that looked far too natural. “Of course I came. You think I’d miss your big game?” His voice carried enough for me to hear. “I had to see those famous moves you’ve been bragging about.”

Noah puffed up with pride, cheeks flushed. “They’re not bragging if they’re true.”

Declan laughed, ruffling his hair. “Touché, champ. Show me what you’ve got.”

When they jogged back together, Declan shot me a quick glance. Not pushy, but just… steady, claiming. I shot him a small smile back.

Jacob’s silence was making me fidgety, and I almost said something, but then Noah beamed at him, practically vibrating with excitement, something shifted. His shoulders dropped just slightly.

“He came for Noah,” Jacob muttered finally, almost like convincing himself.

I nodded, relief slipping through me. “Yes. For Noah.”

The game started, and Noah was everywhere at once. He was running too far ahead, forgetting positions, but pouring his whole heart into every kick.

And then there was Declan, on the sidelines, cheering louder than anyone else.

“Go, Noah!! Show them what you’re made of!!”

“Nice hustle! That’s my guy!!”

At one point, when Noah tripped but popped right back up, Declan cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “That’s resilience, baby! You’re unstoppable!”

Parents turned their heads. Jacob pinched the bridge of his nose. I covered my mouth to hide a laugh.

Noah groaned from the field, shouting back, “Declan! You’re embarrassing me!!”

Declan just grinned, unfazed. “That’s my job!”

The whole exchange was ridiculous and heartwarming all at once. Jacob’s lips twitched like he was trying not to smile, and I caught the faintest sigh escape him.

By the time Noah’s team scored, thanks to a half-accidental kick that sent the ball rolling just barely into the goal, Declan was on his feet, fists pumping in the air like it was the World Cup.

“YES! THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!”

Noah tried to look unimpressed, but his little grin gave him away.

And in that moment, with the three of us watching him from the sidelines, something almost like peace settled in my chest.

After the game, Noah came tearing toward us, his hair sweaty, uniform grass-stained, but his smile so wide it could split his face.

“Did you see that?! Declan, did you see my goal?”

Declan crouched again, holding up his palm. “I did. High five for that, bud.”

Their hands smacked together. Then Declan leaned closer, stage-whispering, “Don’t tell anyone, but I think you carried the whole team.”

Noah puffed up with pride, then ran off toward the snack stand, waving over his shoulder. “I’m getting juice! Don’t leave!”

That left the three of us.

Declan straightened, facing Jacob now. The air shifted instantly, taut and careful.

Jacob’s eyes were unreadable. He folded his arms, exhaled slowly, then said in a low voice, “Look… I’m not going to fight with you.”

Declan stayed quiet, waiting.

Jacob swallowed hard. “He’s my son. I’ve been there since the start. But I’m not blind. I know what he means to you.” His gaze flicked to mine briefly, then back. “And I know what you mean to him.”

My throat tightened.

Declan’s tone was steady, respectful. “I don’t want to replace you. I couldn’t. I just… want to be here for him. However I can.”

Jacob studied him for a long moment, as though measuring every word. Then, finally, he nodded. “As long as Noah’s happy, that’s what matters.”

It wasn’t warm, not yet. But it wasn’t hostile, either.

Declan inclined his head, like he understood the unspoken boundaries. “Fair enough.”

I stood there, my chest aching. And then Noah came running back with two juice boxes, one in each hand. “I got one for you, Declan!” he announced proudly, thrusting it up at him.

Declan blinked, surprised, then smiled as he took it. “Wow. Perks of being your number-one fan, huh?”

Noah nodded solemnly. “Exactly.”

Jacob let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Kid’s already got favorites.”

I glanced at him, startled. But there was no bitterness in his tone this time. Just… resignation. Maybe even a hint of acceptance.

For the first time in a long while, I let myself breathe.

That night, after Noah was asleep, I replayed the day in my mind. The cheers, the laughter, the awkward conversation, the juice box pressed into Declan’s hand.

There had always been so much chaos around us, anger, guilt, longing, fear. But today, for one fleeting hour on a muddy soccer field, it felt different. Things were changing, and so was I.