I laugh, heart swelling. “Wow. Nice. I didn’t expect this.”
She retrieves two crystal flutes from the cabinet, and I grab the bottle, twisting the foil. The cork pops with a loud crack, launching straight into the ceiling with a soft thud.
“It almost took out the light,” she says between giggles.
“Would’ve been a good story,” I reply.
I pour the champagne, bubbles fizzing up like fireworks. I hand her a glass and raise mine.
“To us,” I say.
“To us,” she echoes, her voice sweet and certain.
We clink and sip. The crisp and cold champagne cuts straight through whatever lingering alcohol fog we carried home from the Fire Station.
Miranda leads us into the living room, where we settle on the plush rug in front of the couch, our backs resting against the cushions.
“Okay,” she says, turning toward me with eager eyes. “Tell me everything. Every moment. I want the full play-by-play. Howyou felt, what you saw, what was running through your mind… all of it.”
I chuckle, stretching out my legs. “All right. But it’ll take a while.”
“I have time.”
I start from the beginning, telling her about the warm-up, the locker room energy, and the way Coach paced. She leans into me, hanging onto every word, her smile softening as I describe the moment the buzzer sounded—when everything inside me exploded into pure joy.
“When Max scored that final goal,” I say, shaking my head with awe, “I swear, the sound in that arena could’ve cracked the foundation.”
“I believe it. It was intense,” she whispers.
“My favorite part was looking up to the VIP box to see you,” I say.
She chuckles. “No, it wasn’t. Seeing that you’ve been working your whole life for the moment, winning was probably the highlight.”
“Okay, yes. Winning the Stanley Cup was the pinnacle, but seeing you cheering me on was a close second.”
“I’ll give you that.”
Her head rests against my shoulder, and we fall into a comfortable silence as we sip champagne.
The living room glows from a soft table lamp. Miranda hums softly, then lifts her head. “Can I tell you something?”
“Anything,” I answer instantly.
She looks thoughtful, reflective. “Tonight was… surreal, obviously. It is an experience I’ll hold close to my heart for the rest of my life. But, besides the game, something else dawned on me. I felt so whole and happy in that VIP box because I was a part of it. As much as Anna has included me in every aspect of her career, I never felt like I belonged. Tonight, though, I feltlike I was with my people, my family. Everyone in that VIP box loves a Crane hockey player, and more than that, they love each other… and me.” Her fingers trace idle patterns over my thigh. “I’ve never had that. Being among a group of people and feeling like I truly belonged.” Her voice cracks slightly, and the ache inside my chest is immediate.
I turn to her fully, taking her hand in mine. “You do belong, and you are loved.”
She swallows hard. “I didn’t know it was possible to have a life like this.” The emotion in her voice nearly knocks me over. “I always felt like I was standing outside of things, watching other people build futures and families and happiness. I wanted it, but I also felt like I wasn’t allowed to have it—I didn’t deserve it.”
“Sunshine,” I whisper, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You are my favorite person in this world. You deserve everything.”
She blinks rapidly, then releases a shaky laugh. “Sometimes, I still can’t believe this is my life. It’s too good, and I have a hard time trusting it.”
I press a kiss to her temple. “Believe it. It’s you and me and this crazy beautiful life forever.”
Our foreheads press together, and for a long moment, we just breathe each other in. The room is quiet, soft, glowing. It feels like the world has shrunk to just the two of us.
Miranda playfully nudges my shoulder. “Okay, continue your story. I want the post-game details.”
