Daisy bounces on her toes with a flower crown on her head, while Silas—usually so serious—holds an oversized check, smiling so brightly it lights up his whole face.
“For the new wing of the veterinary clinic!” Tina announces. “Elm Hollow’s puppies thank you!”
Daisy launches herself at him, and he catches her mid-jump, laughing. It’s exactly the happy ending they deserved.
In second place: Lucy and Lars.
They’re the very definition of sweet. Lars, massive in his formal flannel shirt, holds Lucy’s tiny hand like it’s made of glass. The crowd adores them. They’ve won the critics’ award—and probably the heart of every grandmother watching at home.
“BUT NOW…” Tina’s voice cracks with emotion. “For first place overall… for the jaw-dropping charity prize… and for the exclusive contract with our Official Sponsor,Diamond Love…”
The strobe lights go wild.
“THE WINNERS OF THE FIRST SEASON OFLove GoalsARE—”
The camera cuts rapidly between the finalists.
Lucy and Lars, holding hands, calm and happy just to be together.
Silas looking at Daisy like she’s a natural disaster he’s decided to love forever.
And then—us.
On the screen, my face is a mix of shock and adrenaline. Cohen stands beside me wearing that smile.Thatsmile. The one that says,I told you so, Angel.
“…SLOANE AND COHEN!”
The roar from the crowd is deafening.
On the screen, pixelated Cohen grabs my waist, lifts me like I weigh nothing, and kisses me—cinematic, front-page, season-finale worthy. Pedro flies overhead, squawking “Victory!” while Nino tries to hand us a golden trophy almost as tall as I am without getting buried in confetti.
It’s perfect chaos.
It’s the triumph of love, strategy, and Elm Hollow insanity.
It’s the moment when everything feels possible.
Click.
The image freezes.
The kiss hangs suspended midair in a grainy but beautiful still frame. Cohen’s smile is frozen—eternal.
I lower the remote.
Silence fills the room, soft and warm, replacing the roar of the crowd.
I sink back into the couch cushions and take a deep breath.
I’m no longer on that icy stage.
I’m in the Heart family living room.
I turn toward the armchairs by the fireplace, and the sight there squeezes my heart in the sweetest way.
My dad and Cohen.
Not the Coach and his problematic player.
