The morning after the game, San Francisco was buzzing.
Fans flooded the streets in red and gold, headlines praised Brandon's fourth-quarter comeback, and analysts finally stopped talking about the drama—and started talking about destiny.
But Brandon wasn't thinking about any of that.
He was thinking about Genevieve.
He sat on his balcony, a Book of Mormon in his hands, the sky just starting to lighten with dawn. Scripture after scripture echoed in his mind, but one stood out more than the rest:
"Perfect love casteth out all fear." — Moroni 8:16
He didn't want fear in their story.
He didn't want doubt.
He wanted forever.
And it was time to talk about it.
Genevieve, meanwhile, was at her favorite little chapel downtown. It was quiet, simple, and warm—the kind with soft wooden benches, natural sunlight pouring in through the clear windows, and a peaceful stillness that made her feel close to Heaven.
She knelt quietly, her heart full.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For his game. For the strength You gave us. For the love that keeps growing. I don't know what the future holds, but I trust You with it."
Her phone buzzed softly.
Brandon: Meet me at Serenity Grove. Noon. Just us. And God.
Her heart skipped.
That park was their place. Where they'd first talked about their testimonies. Where they'd held hands while reading the scriptures. Where Brandon had once told her, "You make me want to be more than just a football player."
Noon. Serenity Grove.
The park was quiet, sunlight trickling through the trees. Brandon waited by the wooden bench where they always sat. When Genevieve arrived, he stood and took both her hands in his.
"Hi," she said softly, smiling up at him.
"Hi," he whispered back, eyes searching hers. "You always show up when I need you most."
They sat, her head resting on his shoulder, the scriptures resting between them.
"I've been praying a lot," Brandon said. "Not just about football. About us. About the path ahead. And Baby… I don't want to keep guessing. I want to start building."
Genevieve looked up, eyes wide. "What do you mean?"
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a tiny, silver chain with a small CTR ring pendant—simple, delicate, beautiful.
"This isn't the ring yet. But it's a promise. That no matter where life takes us, I'll choose the right—with you by my side. Always."
Tears filled her eyes. "Brandon…"
He gently fastened the necklace around her neck, fingers trembling just slightly.
"I'm not proposing yet," he said, voice thick with emotion. "But I am promising you this: You have my heart. My prayers. My loyalty. My future."
Genevieve wrapped her arms around him tightly, her voice shaking with joy. "You already had all of that, Brandon. But now you've got forever."
Later that night, they sat in her living room, curled under a blanket with soft instrumental hymns playing in the background.
They weren't saying much—just holding hands, resting in the kind of peace that only comes when love is led by the Spirit.
Brandon glanced over and whispered, "You ready for the next chapter?"
Genevieve nodded.
"Let's write it together," she said.
And with that, a new chapter of their story—one built on love, loyalty, and the Lord—quietly began.