Chapter 52
52
RUBY
Chuck's words from earlier echo in my mind… "I'm tired of pretending I'm not completely, head-over-heels in love with you, Ruby Brooks."
How did I get so lucky?
Actually, the question should be, how did he get so lucky?
Can’t wait to share that with him.
The DJ's voice cuts through my thoughts: "Alright, ladies and gentlemen! Let's get this party started! Everyone, hit the dance floor!"
Before I can even process what's happening, Chuck is standing in front of me, hand outstretched. His eyes are blazing with determination and something else – love, unabashed and unafraid.
"Ruby," he says, his voice low and intense, "dance with me."
It's not a question, not really. It's a declaration, a line in the sand. Is this the moment we stop hiding?
I take his hand without hesitation, a thrill running through me at the contact. As he leads me to the dance floor, I'm acutely aware of the attention we’re attracting. We're the first ones up, and suddenly, it feels like everyone in the room is holding their breath.
Chuck pulls me close, one hand on my waist, the other still clasping mine. We begin to move to the music, but it's like we're in our own world. I can't take my eyes off him, drinking in every detail of his face like I'm seeing it for the first time.
"Are we really doing this?" I whisper, a mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in my stomach.
His smile is soft but sure. "Yeah, we are. If you want to, that is."
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. Of course I want to.
As we dance, I become aware of a low buzz of conversation around us. People are noticing, whispering, pointing. I catch snippets of conversation:
"Is that Chuck Newcomb with Tyler's sister?"
"When did that happen?"
"Oh my god, look how he's looking at her!"
I should feel self-conscious, embarrassed even. But all I feel is a sense of rightness, of coming home. Chuck's arms are strong around me, his eyes never leaving mine, and I know without a doubt that this is where I belong.
"You okay?" he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.
I nod, smiling up at him. "More than okay. You?"
His answering grin is radiant. "Never better."
The song changes to something slower, more intimate. Without breaking eye contact, Chuck pulls me closer, eliminating any remaining space between us. I rest my head on his chest, hearing the steady thump of his heartbeat.
"I love you," I say.
His arms tighten around me. "I love you too, Ruby. More than I ever thought possible."
I lift my head to look at him, and the love I see takes my breath away. Before I can second-guess myself, I rise up to my toes and kiss him.
The world falls away. It's just us, Chuck and Ruby, finally able to show the world how we feel.
When we part, the first thing I notice is the silence. The music is still playing, but the chatter has stopped. I look around and realize that everyone—and I mean everyone—is watching us.
For a moment, panic grips me. What have we done? This is Tyler and Lucy's day. Have we just hijacked it?
But then I see my brother and new sister-in-law. They're standing at the edge of the dance floor, matching grins on their faces. Lucy gives me a thumbs up, while Tyler pretends to gag before breaking into laughter.
Suddenly, the room erupts in cheers and applause. I bury my face in Chuck's chest, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks.
"Guess cat's out of the bag," he laughs.
I peek up at him, unable to contain my smile. "Ya think?"
Before he can respond, we're swarmed by well-wishers. The Aftershocks players are clapping Chuck on the back, while their wives and girlfriends are peppering me with questions. Even Brad-or-Brett from the singles table offers his congratulations, though he looks a bit put out.
"I knew it!" Veronica, the blonde who was trying to set Chuck up earlier, exclaims. "The way you two were looking at each other all night—it was so obvious!"
I laugh, still tucked securely in Chuck's arms. "Was it? We thought we were being so discreet."
He grins down at me. "Guess we're not as good as we thought, huh?"
Before I can reply, there's a commotion at the edge of the crowd. Tyler and Lucy are making their way toward us, and for a moment, I feel a pang of guilt. This is their day, after all.
But when they reach us, Lucy immediately pulls me into a hug. "I'm so happy for you!" she squeals.
Tyler, meanwhile, is eyeing Chuck with mock severity. "So, Newcomb. You and my sister, huh?"
Like they haven’t already had this conversation. I know my brother.
Chuck straightens, his arm still around my waist. "You know it, brother. And like I promised you, I'll do everything in my power to make her happy."
Tyler holds the stern look for a moment longer before breaking into a grin. "Just remember, Chuck—you hurt her, I'll end you. Teammate or not."
"Fair enough," Chuck laughs.
As the excitement dies down and people disperse back to their tables or the bar, Chuck and I find ourselves alone again in the middle of the dance floor.
"Well," I say, looking up at him, "that wasn't quite how I imagined letting the cat out of the bag. But I suppose it worked."
Chuck raises an eyebrow. "Regrets?"
I pretend to think about it for a moment, then shake my head. "Not a single one. You?"
"Are you kidding?" He pulls me closer. "I get to tell the world that I'm in love with an amazing woman.”
We sway to the music, lost in our own little bubble of happiness. From mistaken retreat bookings to secret rendezvous, from denying our feelings to this very public declaration of coupledom, it’s been a whirlwind of ups and downs, of doubts and certainties.
I’m surprised I survived it all.
It hasn't been easy, and I know we still have challenges ahead. But right here, right now, with Chuck's arms around me and the approval of our friends and family ringing in my ears, I am happy.
As the night wears on, we dance and laugh and celebrate, not just Tyler and Lucy's love, but our own. And when Chuck leans down to whisper "I love you" in my ear for what must be the hundredth time, I know I'll never tire of hearing it.
The future is uncertain, filled with potential hurdles—the public scrutiny of dating a sports star, the challenge of merging our different worlds, the everyday struggles that come with any relationship. But as I look up at Chuck, seeing the warmth and determination in his eyes, I know we'll face it all together.
And really, that's all that matters.
EPILOGUE
Six months later…
I never thought I'd see the day when Chuck Newcomb, star hockey player and self-proclaimed ‘sports guy,’ would be the main attraction at a library event. Yet here we are, in the main reading room of the San Francisco Public Library, with Chuck holding court like he was born for this.
"And then," he says, his voice animated as he reads from a children's book about hockey, "Timmy stepped onto the ice for the very first time. His legs were wobbly, like a newborn giraffe's, but his heart was full of determination..."
The kids gathered around him are hanging on his every word, their eyes wide with excitement. Parents and other adults crowd the periphery, many clutching books or jerseys for Chuck to sign later.
I lean against a bookshelf, watching the scene with a mixture of pride and amusement. Who would have thought that my worlds would collide like this? The man I love, bringing the excitement of sports to the hallowed halls of my beloved San Francisco Public Library.
As Chuck finishes the story, applause breaks out. He grins, looking up and catching my eye. Damn him. He still takes my breath away.
Will it always be like this?
"Alright, kids," he says, standing up. "Who wants to learn how to hold a hockey stick?"
The excited shrieks that follow make me wince slightly, and I can't help but smile. Chuck has a way with kids that never fails to warm my heart. As he starts demonstrating proper stick-handling technique, I slip away to check on the autograph line setup.
By the time the event wraps up, Chuck has signed what feels like a thousand books, jerseys, and even a few hockey pucks that enterprising fans brought along. His hand must be cramping, but he's still smiling, still taking the time to chat with each person who approaches him.
The team’s PR guy, Vince Vincent, would be proud.
"That was amazing," I tell him as we leave the library, hand in hand. "I think you might have a future in children's literature if this whole hockey thing doesn't work out."
Chuck laughs, pulling me close and pressing a kiss to my temple. "Only if you'll be my editor, Brooks. You know I'm hopeless with grammar."
I pretend to consider it. "I don't know, your dangling participles might be more than I can handle."
"My participles can dangle for you anytime," he says with a wink.
I groan, shoving him playfully. "That doesn't even make sense, you goof."
As we walk home, I can't help but marvel at how much has changed in six short months.
One year later…
"Okay, so then Ruby realizes that the retreat isn't what she thought it was, and she starts to panic..." I trail off, noticing that Chuck isn't typing anymore. In fact, he's not even looking at the laptop screen. He's looking at me with an intensity that makes my cheeks flush.
"Chuck? You okay?"
He blinks, seeming to come back to himself. "Yeah, sorry. I was just... remembering."
I feel a smile tugging at my lips. "Remembering what, exactly?"
Chuck's grin turns wicked. "Oh, you know. The way you looked when you realized what kind of retreat it was. All flustered and cute."
"It was not cute," I protest. "It was… enlightening. Educational. A learning opportunity."
"Educationally cute," he insists, setting the laptop aside and pulling me into his lap. "In fact, I think I need a refresher on just how cute you were."
I roll my eyes, but I don't resist as he starts trailing kisses down my neck. "We're supposed to be writing, remember? The publisher wants the first three chapters of our book by next week."
"Mm-hmm," Chuck murmurs against my skin. "And we'll get right back to that. After I remind you of that night..."
Needless to say, we don't get much writing done that afternoon. Or that evening. Or, if I'm being honest, for the next couple of days.
But that's okay. We have a lifetime to tell our story. And in the meantime, well... I'm more than happy to do some hands-on "research" with my favorite co-author.
Eighteen Months Later…
"Are you sure about this?" Chuck asks for what must be the hundredth time. "I mean, I support you one hundred percent, but I don't want you to feel like you have to do this."
I take a deep breath, looking at the imposing campus of San Francisco State University. "I'm sure," I say, and I mean it. "It's time."
He squeezes my hand. "Okay then. Let's get you registered, college girl."
As we navigate the maze of administration buildings and registration lines, I feel a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling up inside me. It's been a while since I was last in a classroom, and the thought of being a student again is more than a little daunting.
But it's also exhilarating. When I told my boss at the library about my desire to finish my degree, I expected resistance. Instead, I got nothing but support. They even agreed to let me cut back my hours to part-time, assuring me that there would always be a place for me at the library.
"You're going to make an amazing reference librarian," my boss said, her eyes twinkling. "Just don't forget us little people when you're running the whole library system, okay?"
Needless to say, my BFF Matthew is doing backflips, he’s so psyched for me.
Now, as I fill out form after form, I feel a sense of purpose that's been missing since I left college. I'm not just Ruby Brooks, sister of a hockey star or girlfriend of a hockey star. I'm Ruby Brooks, future reference librarian extraordinaire.
And with Chuck by my side, cheering me on every step of the way?
I’m killing it.
Two Years Later…
"I'm going to be an aunt," I say for probably the millionth time, still not quite believing it.
Chuck laughs, pulling me closer on the couch. "Yes, you are. And I'm going to be an uncle. Tyler's going to be a dad. The world's a crazy place."
I snuggle into his side, my mind whirling with possibilities. "Do you think it'll be a boy or a girl? Oh god, what if it's twins? Can you imagine Tyler with twins?"
"I can imagine Tyler fainting in the delivery room, twins or no twins," Chuck chuckles.
I swat his arm lightly. "Be nice. He's going to be a great dad."
"Yeah, he is," Chuck agrees. "And you're going to be an amazing auntie."
I look up at him, seeing a wistfulness in his eyes that makes my heart skip a beat. "Yeah? What about you, Uncle Chuck? Ready to spoil this kid rotten?"
Chuck's smile is soft, a little shy. "Absolutely. And maybe... maybe someday we could have a few of our own to spoil?"
The question hangs in the air between us, both sweet and intimidating. We've talked about the future before, about marriage and kids, but always in vague 'someday' terms. This feels different. More real.
"Yeah," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'd like that. Someday."
His arms tighten around me, and I feel him press a kiss to the top of my head. We don't say anything else. We don't need to.
Two and a Half Years Later…
"Do you have enough blankets? I can get you more blankets. Or maybe another pillow? Are you sure you don't want to take the recliner? It's really comfortable, and ? —"
"Dad," I interrupt gently, placing a hand on his arm. "I'm fine. I have everything I need."
My dad looks around what’s soon to be my former bedroom, now mostly empty except for a few boxes we still need to move. His eyes are suspiciously bright, and I feel a lump forming in my throat.
"I know, I know," he says, his voice gruff with emotion. "It's just... it's a big step, moving in with Chuck. I want to make sure you're ready."
I smile, pulling him into a hug. "I'm ready, Dad. I promise."
He hugs me back tightly, and I feel a few of his tears dampening my hair. When we pull apart, he wipes his eyes, trying to compose himself.
"Your mom would be so proud of you," he says softly. "She’d be so happy you found someone worthy of your big heart."
I feel my own eyes welling up. "Thanks, Dad. That means a lot." I love hearing stories about the mother I lost when I was just a baby. Sweet… and bittersweet.
He clears his throat, clearly trying to lighten the mood. "Just remember, if he ever hurts you, I may be old, but I can still throw a mean right hook."
I laugh, the tension breaking. "I'll keep that in mind. But I don't think you need to worry. Chuck's a good man."
"He is," Dad agrees. "And I hope... I hope you two have the kind of love your mom and I had. The kind that lasts, through good times and bad. Even when life cuts it short. It’s still worth it all."
I think about Chuck, waiting patiently downstairs to help with the last of the boxes. About the way he looks at me like I'm the most precious thing in the world. About how he supports my dreams, makes me laugh even on my worst days.
"If I have a fraction of what you tell me you and Mom had, I’ll consider my life a success."
As we head downstairs to where Chuck is waiting, I feel a sense of completion. This isn't an ending, far from it. It's the beginning of… so much.