Rina laughs and sniffles at the same time. The sound breaks me open before stitching me back together again in the next heartbeat. Her thumb traces the nape of my neck, as if she’s trying to memorize this moment along with this version of us before everything changes.
“You’ve already given me so much,” she whispers. “There was a time I couldn’t imagine being this happy. I used to wait for the other shoe to drop. Now… I’m just learning to enjoy the moment.”
As we bask in everything we’ve built together, I look up at the woman who once hid behind walls.
Home.
That’s what this is.
What she is.
A camera flash used to mean headlines and trouble. Now, the only light that matters is the one that catches the sheen of her black hair. I used to think home was the roar of a crowd after a win on our ice. Turns out, it’s her laughter ringing through these halls, and the tiny life beneath my hand.
I can see our future so clearly. Rina with coffee in one hand, me chasing a toddler down the hall, both of us wrapped in a kind of contentment we never knew existed.
Unable to help myself, I kiss her belly once more before lingering there.
“For the record,” I whisper, “you can be in charge too. Just don’t tell your mom I said that.”
With a shake of her head, Rina snorts out a laugh. “You’re impossible.”
“Yup,” I say, grinning against her skin. “But you love me anyway.”
“It’s true, I do love you.”
Outside, Chicago glows as dusk falls. Inside, it’s just the three of us and the kind of peace that feels like it’ll last forever.
My phone buzzes somewhere in the mess of cardboard and pieces of furniture. It’s probably Hayes or maybe Kia checking in. Or it could be one of the guys.
I let it ring.
Because this—her, our son, this life—is everything I never knew I needed.
I don’t care if he ever picks up a stick or skates a shift. I just want him to see what love looks like when it’s real. When two people fight for it, refusing to let go.
This is my family.
My home.
And I can’t imagine needing anything more.
Epilogue
Evelyn
The conversation in Hugh’s office…
* * *
Rina and Oliver sit stiff-backed in Hugh’s office. The atmosphere hangs heavy, weighted with everything they have yet to say.
Hugh leans back in his chair, arms crossed, tone clipped and cold. “If I bend the rules for you, what’s the point in having them at all?”
Rina sucks in a shuddering breath. Her face is pale, but her chin stays high. “I understand.”
Oliver’s jaw tics, the muscle twitching. He’s seconds away from saying something that will make the situation even worse.
I clear my throat. “Hugh, surely we have some flexibility?—”
