"Can I be in the wedding?"
"You'll be the ring bearer," Logan promises. "If you want to be."
"Yes! I've never been in a wedding before!"
A while later, Logan and I lie in our bed, in our room, in our house, and plan our future.
"A year and a half until you graduate," I say.
"Two more years until you're eligible for unrestricted free agency."
"We could have the wedding that summer. Between seasons."
"Beach or church?"
"Backyard," I say without even needing to think. "Here. With our family and the team and everyone who matters."
"Perfect." Logan traces patterns on my chest. I shiver from the tingles that explode over my skin at his touch. "Honeymoon?"
"Somewhere with gorgeous beaches and no hockey."
"Bora Bora?"
"Amazing."
We talk for hours, planning a wedding that's still years away, thinking about children who don't exist yet, imagining a future that feels as solid as the rings on our fingers.
This isn't the ending of our story.
This is just the beginning.
