"Can you believe this actually happened?" Theo asked quietly.
I traced the engraved names on the Cup’s surface. Champions dating back over a century. Legends. Icons.
And now my name would be there too.
"A month ago," I said, "I thought my career would be over if anyone found out I was gay. I thought I’d lose the captaincy, the team’s respect, everything."
"And now?"
"Now I have a championship. Endorsement deals specifically because I came out. A team that supports me." I looked at Theo. "And you."
Theo’s smile was soft. Knowing. "Turns out vulnerability made you stronger, huh?"
"Turns out you were right all along." I leaned in and kissed him. "Thank you for seeing me when I couldn't see myself."
"Always, Cap." Theo rested his head on my shoulder. "So what happens now?"
"Now?" I thought about the endorsement deals. The media attention. The inevitable scrutiny and criticism that would continue.
But I also thought about this moment—sitting on a locker room floor with the man I loved, the championship we’d won together gleaming between us.
"Now we enjoy this," I said. "We celebrate. We rest. And then we do it all over again next season."
"Sounds perfect."
"One more thing." I pulled out my phone. I scrolled to my father’s contact.
Theo tensed. "You don't have to—"
"I do."
I typed quickly, before I could second-guess myself.
Luca:We won the championship. I’m happy. I’m in love. I’m finally myself. I’m sorry you can't be part of this, but I’m done letting your fear control my life.
I hit send. Then I blocked the number.
"Done," I said quietly.
Theo squeezed my good hand. "How do you feel?"
"Free."
And I was. The false belief that had controlled me for sixteen years—that vulnerability equaled weakness, that authenticity would destroy me—had shattered completely.
Being honest hadn't made me weaker.
It had made me a champion.
"I love you," I said, pulling Theo closer.
"I love you too." He kissed me again, tasting like champagne and victory. "Now let's get out of here. I want to take the Cup to bed."
I laughed—bright and unguarded and utterly free. "That’s not how this works."
"Worth a shot."
We stood together. I lifted the Stanley Cup one more time. Its weight felt right in my hands. Earned.
