Epilogue
LYDIA - TWENTY-SEVEN MONTHS LATER
“This is getting way too close,” Angie tells me.
“Tell me about it.”
“Maybe next time they get here, you can tell them to make it a little easier on us,” Troy says, nudging my shoulder.
“We can only hope.”
Toronto’s NHL team has been crushing it this season. I couldn’t be more proud of Delaney and all her hard work with the Sixers.
With each win that got them closer to the finals, the time the two of us spent together became more limited.
It was hard with the Rosebuds in the playoffs, but it was worth it.
Because we came home with the Cup. And now, I want Delaney to bring one home.
I want her cup to match mine.
“Do you want me to take him?” Troy asks.
“No. It’s the only reason I’m keeping it together.” I hold my new nephew on my lap as he snoozes in my arms, despite the crowd noise.
While I was sad that my brother didn’t make it further in the playoffs, Maverick helped to soften the blow for everyone. Glancing at the clock, my nerves ratchet up even higher.
Two minutes left. Almost every fan here in the arena is on their feet. It’s a hard-fought game, the puck going back and forth between the teams with the goalies working hard to block numerous shots on goal.
“C’mon. C’mon,” I whisper under my breath.
Florida’s center grabs the puck and takes off down the ice.
“Fuck. C’mon. Stop him!” Troy shouts from next to me, standing.
My heart is in my throat as he is chased down the ice. “Oh my God.”
The crowd erupts as the goalie blocks the shot off his stick toward one of the Sixers players. He doesn’t hesitate, knowing the urgency as he moves down the ice.
“Here, let me take him.” Angie takes Mav from my arms.
“Thanks.”
I stand, trying to keep it together as the wingers pass the puck back and forth. Florida’s defense is setting up, but with a quick flick of the Toronto player’s stick, the puck is sailing over the goalie’s shoulder and into the back of the net.
“Yes!”
If I thought it was loud when our goalie stopped the puck, it’s nothing compared to now as the lamp lights and the horn sounds.
“Fuck yes!”
Troy and I are jumping up and down, high-fiving people in the crowd around us. The players are jumping on top of each other at one end of the ice as my gaze flits to my wife, standing on the bench. Delaney and the head coach look as calm as ever.
I cup my hands around my mouth and shout, “Let’s go, Delaney!”
I don’t know how she keeps her cool. I’d be a basket case. As the lines change and the guys head back to the bench, she’s whispering things in their ears.
There’s less than a minute left now. I wring my hands together, as Delaney’s mom squeezes my shoulder from behind.
“She’s got this. We’ve got this.”
I glance back over my shoulder, giving her a worried smile.
The action moves toward Toronto’s goal, and Florida pulls their goalie in favor of another player on the ice.
Players are swarming as they fire shot after shot at the goal.
“Keep it up. C’mon! You’ve got this!”
I’m shouting my encouragement, even though they can’t hear me from up here. The entire crowd is cheering them on.
Twenty seconds left.
Nineteen.
Eighteen.
Florida fires a shot that is a little too close for comfort, but our goalie blocks it. “Thank God!”
I cover my face with my hands as they keep fighting and pushing.
With ten seconds left, the crowd starts counting down.
“Ten more seconds! Come on!” Vanessa yells from behind me. “Let’s go, Sixers!”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I mutter into my hands. “Oh my God! C’mon!”
“Three, two, one!”
“Your Toronto Sixers are Stanley Cup Champions!”
The announcer’s voice echoes through the arena. It’s hard to hear him over the sounds of cheers. Tears are pouring down my face as the guys are jumping on top of one another on the ice.
My eyes find Delaney. She and the coach are hugging. When she pulls back, her eyes are wet as she shifts her gaze to where our suite is.
I know it’s hard for her to see us up here, but I can feel her stare. My ears are ringing with the noise. Pride is bursting from me at watching my wife coach her team to a Stanley Cup victory.
“They did it!” Vanessa pulls me in for a hug as I try to control the tears.
After Delaney was fired from the Rosebuds, Troy, through the NHL grapevine, found out that Toronto was looking for a new assistant coach after failing to make the playoffs. With a little bit of luck, Delaney was able to secure the position.
Thank God. She didn’t have to leave Toronto, and before my second season started with the Rosebuds, Biscuit and I moved in with her.
It hasn’t always been easy with our schedules, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
It’s not long before all of us are being ushered down to the ice for the Cup presentation and postgame celebrations.
Watching as the Sixers are presented the Cup, my heart swells with pride. Delaney deserves every moment in the spotlight. She is one of the most incredible coaches, and everyone on this team respects the hell out of her.
As the players take their turn with the Cup, Delaney spots us and comes over to us.
“You did it!” I sweep her into my arms, peppering her face with kisses. “Could you have made it a bit easier on us?”
“You?” She laughs. “I don’t know how I kept my cool.”
“Because you’re amazing, dear,” her mom says, coming in for her own hug.
“Thanks, Mom.”
Everyone is showering her with love and praise. It makes the tears start again. Watching her have her moment is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
“What?” She turns to me, eyes glistening with her own unshed tears. Happiness is radiating off of her.
“I love you.”
“I can’t believe we did it.” She comes back to me, wrapping me in a hug.
“Couldn’t be the only one in the family that hasn’t won a Cup.” Delaney drops a sweet kiss on my mouth.
“Technically, I have three now,” Troy jokes from his spot next to me.
“Really, Troy?” Dad laughs.
“Hey, watch out. I’m coming for you,” I tell him.
“You know, I really hope your kids aren’t like this,” Mom says.
“I’d take them having kids,” Vanessa says.
Delaney groans, burrowing her head into my shoulder. “Can’t they just let us enjoy the win for more than a minute?”
I toss my head back in laughter. “Then they wouldn’t be them.”
“I can’t believe we won,” Delaney confesses, so only I can hear her.
“I’m so proud of you. You’re the best coach, and you deserve your moment in the spotlight.”
She smiles down at me. “And now we have a matching set.”
“There’s that.” I press a soft, easy kiss to her lips. I can’t wait for the celebrations to continue later tonight. But not right now.
There will be time for that later.
Because Delaney and I have all the time in the world together.
And it’s fucking perfect.
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