❛ 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 ❜ ✓

29

          THE CLINKING OF ——— two glasses resonated in the living room as my mom and I toasted to the Giants' victory. The warm glow of the TV, that replaying our final match, casted a soft ambiance in the dark room.

My mom took a sip from her glass and smiled at me, her eyes sparkling with pride. "You did great today. I'm so proud of you."

I smiled at her, "Thanks, mom. But I really didn't do anything, it was the team," I replied, taking a sip of the wine. I usually don't drink, but this was a special occasion, so why not?

"And you're part of the team, are you not?" She remarked, leaning back into the couch with one arm over the backrest and her legs crossed.

I looked at the floor, "I guess you're right. It's just... surreal, you know? Seeing everything come together like that after so long,"

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. "It's moments like these that remind you why all the hard work and sacrifices are worth it."

I looked at the TV, watching the replay of Ken's home run, the crowd's cheers echoing through the speakers. "Yeah, it really does."

My mom leaned over and squeezed my hand. "You've grown so much. Watching you chase your dreams and seeing you succeed... it's the best feeling in the world."

Her words warmed my heart, and I felt grateful. "I couldn't have done it without your support, Mom. You've always been there for me. Dad, too. I wish he was here," I glanced up to a picture on the wall.

It was a family portrait of the three of us from a few years ago. We were all smiling, and Dad had his arm around Mom, with me sitting in a chair in front of them.

Mom followed my gaze and sighed softly. "He would be so proud of you. He always believed in you, even when things got tough."

I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I know. I miss him every day."

She gave my hand another squeeze. "He may not be here physically, but his love and support are always with us. And tonight, I'm sure he's celebrating with us in spirit."

I smiled through the tears that threatened to fall. "Yeah, you're right. He'd be cheering the loudest."

"I bet he's probably flinging his shirt around," she sighed disappointingly but was smiling.

I chuckled through my tears, the image of Dad doing just that vivid in my mind. "Yeah, he probably would. Always the life of the party." I wiped my eyes with the back of my palm.

Mom nodded, her smile turning nostalgic. "He had a way of making every victory feel even sweeter, didn't he? His energy was infectious."

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both lost in our thoughts. The TV continued to play the highlights of the game, each moment bringing back the excitement of the day.

Breaking the silence, Mom raised her glass again. "To Dad," she said, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "And to you, for making him proud."

I clinked my glass against hers, feeling a renewed sense of purpose and connection. "To Dad," I echoed.

We drank to that, savoring the wine and the shared memory.

As we settled back into the couch, my phone buzzed with a message from Ken.

My mom noticed and laughed softly, "You two just can't seem to get enough of each other since you started dating, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that..." I admitted, glancing at my phone.

Ken 💗 sent 9+ images

"He's a good guy. It's nice to see you so happy now." She mentioned as I swiped through the photos we took together after the match, alone in the locker room.

A smile ran along my lips as I looked at one particular picture, "He is mom. I'm happy,"

fyi i've stalked every one of u