"I'm serious." Lou's arm tightened around her. "I'm thirty-five. I've got maybe three or four more good years, if I'm lucky. And after that..."
"After that, what?"
"I want to stay home. Coach, maybe, or train the next generation of players. But mostly I want to be here. With you. And maybe..." She hesitated. "Maybe eventually with kids. If that's something you want."
The words hung in the darkness—tentative, hopeful, terrifying in their possibility.
"Kids," Camille repeated.
"Too soon to talk about?"
"No." Camille turned in Lou's arms, facing her in the moonlit bedroom. "Not too soon. But you can't retire yet, Lou Calder. We have a PWHL championship to win first."
Lou's laugh was soft and warm. "Is that right?"
"That's right. I didn't fall in love with a quitter. We take the championship, then we talk about babies."
"Deal."
They kissed again—slower this time, deeper, the promise of forever woven into every breath. When they finally settled back against the pillows, Camille felt something shift inside her. Not anxiety, not the constant calculation that had defined her life for so long, but something simpler.
Peace.
She'd spent years building a life that looked perfect from the outside—the endorsements, the achievements, the carefully curated image. But none of it had made her feel like this. None of it had given her this bone-deep certainty that she was exactly where she belonged.
Lou's breathing deepened beside her, sleep pulling her under. Max shifted at their feet, sighing contentedly.Outside, the moon traced its path across the sky, marking the passage of time that no longer felt like a threat.
Camille looked at the ring on her finger, at the woman beside her, at the life they'd built from the wreckage of their separate fears.
This was love. This was home. This was the beginning of everything that mattered.
And it was more than she'd ever imagined possible.
The End.
