He’s flying out for an away game — the airport is loud, his duffel slung over his shoulder — you try not to cry.

He cups your face, thumb brushing your cheek, grin crooked but real.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he teases softly. “I’ll marry you right here in baggage claim.”

You laugh through your tears. “You’re insane.”

He steps closer, kisses your forehead, voice dropping. “Insanely in love, yeah. Now go before I really do it.”