Chapter 9

Tuesday morning arrived with the calm after the storm. The rumors were still floating, but Brandon and Genevieve's bond had only grown stronger—proof that love rooted in truth and God could weather anything.

At Levi's Stadium, Brandon walked into the quarterback room with a quiet confidence. His teammates glanced up from their tablets, then looked at him with something new in their eyes.

Respect.

"Yo, B," one of the linemen called out. "Saw the chapel post. That was real, man."

Brandon gave a nod. "Love's gotta be built on something real, right?"

The coach clapped him on the back. "Now let's get that focus back where it belongs—playoffs are coming."

But even as he dove back into game film and formations, a part of Brandon's heart stayed with Genevieve. He kept thinking about her courage… her faith… her strength when the spotlight turned harsh.

Across town, Genevieve sat in a cozy nook at a quiet café, a Book of Mormon open in front of her. She sipped herbal tea and highlighted a verse from Alma that spoke straight to her soul:

"Behold, I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass…"

She smiled to herself. That's what their love was—simple things. A prayer in a pew. A rooftop talk. A text that said "I love you." And yet, somehow, it was growing into something great.

A soft buzz came from her phone. A text from Brandon.

Brandon: Can I see you tonight? Just you. No noise. Just… us.

Genevieve: Always. You're my calm in the chaos.

Brandon: 7pm. Lakeside Park. Bring a jacket. It's cold, Baby Girl.

Genevieve: I'll bring cocoa. You bring that smile I love.

That night, the lake shimmered under the glow of string lights strung between trees. Brandon had set up a little bench with blankets, two mugs, and a mini speaker softly playing their favorite church hymns.

Genevieve walked up, bundled in a coat and scarf, her cheeks pink from the chill. Brandon stood when he saw her, pulling her into his arms instantly.

"No cameras," he whispered. "No press. Just you and me."

They sat wrapped up together, sipping cocoa, watching their breath dance in the cold.

"I've been thinking," Brandon said, looking out at the water. "This next game… it's a big one. If we win, we clinch the division."

Genevieve nodded. "You've got this."

He turned to her, eyes serious now. "But I need to know… are you really ready for everything that comes with being with me? The pressure. The travel. The fans. The faith we'll need to keep strong?"

Genevieve didn't hesitate.

"I've already decided, Brandon. I'm in. All in. I'm not scared of the spotlight. Not when I have God guiding me—and you holding my hand."

Brandon smiled, heart full.

"I love you."

"I love you more," she whispered.

He kissed her—gentle, warm, and full of everything they'd prayed for.

Later that night, as Genevieve walked into her apartment, she knelt beside her bed, folded her arms, and whispered a quiet prayer:

"Heavenly Father, thank you for the love You've placed in my life. For Brandon. For the strength to stand in truth. Help us stay close to You—and to each other. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

And somewhere across the city, Brandon did the same—kneeling in gratitude, trusting that even in the chaos of the NFL… love and faith would always lead him home.